Page 18 of Soothsayer

“Yeah.”

He sighed. “Gotta say, I’m real tempted to pop you in the mouth for what you pulled in the car, but I don’t start shit with guys who can’t fight back.”

“Not to mention you had it coming.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “Come on.” We went in and were seated fast inside the overly bright, overly neon restaurant. We got water and ordered burgers, and then Andre started pulling things up on his phone.

“So, this is your guy’s warehouse.” He showed me a picture of a two-story brick building with high, opaque windows. “It’s huge, twenty-thousand square feet, and he had some big-ass skylights installed before he moved whatever contraband he’s got into there. It’s also guarded.” He swiped a few more pictures across the screen. “Four people are always on site, two outside, one just in the door, and another on the roof.” I quickly checked the pictures for Sören, but he wasn’t there.

“What I’m getting at,” Andre continued, “is that you’re not gonna get into that place. Not the way it is now, not without major backup that I don’t think you’ve got.”

“Great,” I muttered, grabbing my pain meds from my pocket and popping one out. I washed it down with some water and grimaced. “What else?”

“Well, Egilsson himself? He’s not staying at the warehouse. He’s in a hotel, checked in as Ollie Venkin. He got two suites, one for some bodyguards and another for him and a guest.”

A guest…it had to be Sören. If something strange was going on, he’d want to keep Sören close. “Which hotel?”

Andre grinned. “Glad you asked. We happen to be one block from it. It’s the Omni.” He looked at me. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a nice suit in your bag, huh? Sports coat, maybe? They’ve got a bar?good place for some recon?but it’d be easier if you looked the part.”

I’d left most of my nicest suit in the club, and the pants had been unfixable after sliding through broken glass. “Shit.”

Our burgers came, and we lost a couple minutes of conversation to hunger as my appetite caught up with me.Marisol’s chicken and rice had been delicious, but it had also been yesterday, and I hadn’t eaten since. It was almost one now.

“Never mind,” Andre said after most of the food was gone. “I can go in and do the initial sightseeing.”

“No, you can’t. Your wife’s about to call.”

“My—what?” His phone rang a moment later, and he stared at me unblinking. I carefully avoided his eyes, and he finally answered the phone. “Hey, baby. Yeah. Really? No, I can do that, sure…yeah. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up and stared at me. “My sister-in-law just went into labor. I’m supposed to meet the family at the hospital as soon as I can.”

“Fancy that.”

“Did you do this?”

I laughed?I couldn’t help it. “Did I what, jumpstart your sister-in-law’s labor? How the hell would I do that?”

“How the hell do you do any of the stuff you did?”

“Good question, one for the ages.” I didn’t say anything else, and he looked away after a moment.

That was fine. It was better I be alone for the next part anyway.

Chapter Ten

Far be it from me to confess to a fault, but if I had to name one off the top of my head, it would be vanity. Used to be pride, or maybe arrogance, but after you got kidnapped, tied up, and threatened with death enough times, the arrogance bled out of your system. Literally, in some cases. So, while I might be confident in my abilities, I wasn’t arrogant.

Vanity, though?well, fuck it, I knew I looked good. I had my mother’s eyes and nose and her rail-thin build, but my naturally dark hair, the square cut of my jaw, and my height all came from my unnamed sperm donor. I might look like a tattooed punk, but they werenicetattoos. They should be?I had put a lot of thought into them. Each one had a meaning, a little slice of purpose inked into my skin.

I’d met a British guy named Steven once, back when I was fifteen and invincible, who could actually pull his tattoos off his body into the objects they represented. He had a stiletto along the inside of his forearm, a gun at his hip, and lock picks alonghis thigh. He had to keep getting them done, he told me when we were drunk one night, because eventually his trick wore the ink away, and eventually there was nothing but blank skin.

He’d been there when I’d had the work done on my throat, a winged Eye of Horus spreading out across my Adam’s apple and around my neck. He’d kissed me afterward to distract me from the pain. He’d been one of the only people smart enough to know what I did andnotask for a glimpse into his future.

I kind of wished I had looked anyway. I could imagine him enjoying himself, living large, an ever-changing palette of color and design.

My tattoos were noticeable because I liked them that way, and also because by in large, I tended to hang out with a more, shall we say,relaxedcrowd than the business-elite happy hour contingent I was going to find at the Omni. Most of my ink could be covered up by a well-tailored suit, though, and that was what I left to find after I finished my burger.

I had to hand it to the guy in the shop?he didn’t bother with a double take when he saw me, just stepped right up. “Good afternoon, sir. How may I assist you today?”

“My last decent suit just met with an unhappy accident,” I said, casting my eyes over the tasteful displays behind him. No racks, just well-dressed mannequins representing a handful of upscale designers. “I need something as close to fitted as you can manage in the next hour.”

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