Page 21 of Veil of Dust

He hesitates. “I wanted to see how bad it was.”

“You thought I’d be dead?”

“No. I thought you’d be mad.”

“You guessed right.”

He steps back a little, gives me space.

Then, he moves to the body. Crouches. Lifts the guy’s jacket sleeve.

There’s a tattoo on the inside of the arm, a dog skull with three claw marks running through it.

“He’s with the pack,” Tiziano says.

“Alfeo?”

He nods. “Low-level. Meant to take a hit.”

“Then why send him?”

“To see what you’d do. If you’d freeze.”

“I didn’t.”

“I noticed.”

He stands and pulls a handkerchief from his coat, wiping his hands like the blood bothers him.

“I’ll send someone to take care of this,” he says.

“I thought you said I needed backup.”

“This is it.”

I laugh. It’s short, dry. “You think backup means cleanup?”

“I think it means you focus on what matters.”

“And what matters?”

He doesn’t say it, but he doesn’t have to.

He wants me closer.

In the system. On his ledgers. On his side.

“You think if you mop the floor, I’ll owe you.”

“I think the debt’s already there.”

I shake my head. “You’re full of yourself.”

“You’re still bleeding.”

There’s another pause, tight.

Then, without warning, he reaches out and lifts the edge of my shirt. Just enough to see the tape job underneath.

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