Chapter 5: In Servitude - The Night Market

PART II

* * *

3 months later

The lift was silent but for the soft hiss of rising air and the groaning pull of machinery that wasn’t quite as smooth as the building’s glamour suggested. Leroux Tower liked to pretend it was all clean lines and modern sheen, but behind it all, Pepper could still hear the tired bones of the thing. Eighty floors tall and constantly hungry.

She ignored the evening view of the falling city from the window and leaned back against the mirrored wall, phone in hand, thumb hovering above the keyboard. She read and reread the message, letting out a tired exhale.

v tired go in 2 sleep speak l8r

Above it, the time. 11.01 a.m.

Beneath that one from herself.

OK. Love you.

11.29 a.m. Unread.

Her fingers danced hesitantly over the screen. She tapped:

How did you sleep?

It joined the others.

10.13 p.m.

She sighed, pocketed the phone, and tried to flatten her reflection in the mirror. She adjusted the collar of her green felt coat. Smoothed her hair after catching a strand out of place. She found herself breathing sharper and closed her eyes to wrestle it back under control. Where she was going, nerves were a liability. She could only pretend so much, and the slightest mistake would doom her in all the ways people didn’t speak aloud.

Floor 19 pinged past. Then 21. 27. 34.

She swallowed and watched the numbers tick upwards, each one feeling like another lock clicking into place behind her. She felt her shoulders tense and forced herself to roll them back. She knew her job. Drop the worry. Keep it simple.

She felt the lurch as the lift slowed.

The bell pinged.

Floor 50.

And when the doors slid open, he was there.

The Enforcer from the Night Market.

Only now he wasn’t all black shadows and burning eyes. No monstrous second skin. Just the man beneath it – tall, pressed into a dark jacket sharp enough to cut glass, arms folded, face neutral. But the memory of what he had become clung to his presence. He stared at her as if he’d been waiting. Like he always knew exactly when the doors would open.

‘You’re late,’ he said.

‘And you’re annoying,’ Pepper replied, stepping out, stack of manila envelopes under arm.

‘Be on time and I won’t have reason to be. Or to have to come find you.’ He followed along behind. ‘Are you going to be much longer?’

‘Depends how many of these I’ve got left,’ she muttered, adjusting the bundle in her possession.

The legal floor was vast and almost too quiet – straight lines of glass and polished stone, where whispers carried and footsteps echoed with authority. Panels of frosted glass bore gilt-lettered department names: UTILITIES, NEGOTIATION, ANCESTRY and INFLUENCE. Through the clear sections of glass, Pepper could glimpse tailored figures moving like clockwork, some discussions mundane, others loud and direct to the point of threatening. The Cavendish Family’s dealings were all wrapped in glossy civility, but she could feel the predatory undercurrent beneath it all.

A gaunt man pushed along a squeaking trolley of parcels and files between departments, completely ignoring them. The scent of hot toner, polished oak and wash of air conditioning filled the floor. Everything felt deliberate – no clutter, no sound out of place.

‘Smile,’ the Enforcer beside her said as they walked. By that point Pepper had learned his name was Laik, pronounced exactly like the body of water. It felt oddly fitting, though not for the reasons he probably would have preferred. There was certainly something dark beneath his surface, something difficult to measure, but mostly it just meant she’d spent the better part of their time together resisting the urge to throw stones at him whenever he opened his mouth.

‘I am smiling,’ she replied flatly.

‘You’re scowling.’

‘I’m nervous.’

‘Still? It’s been months.’

‘Yes. Months here. It’s enough to put anyone out of sorts.’

He smirked faintly, though the look barely reached his eyes.

‘You know,’ she continued, glancing through a frosted pane marked LITIGATION AND HUMAN AFFAIRS, ‘this isn’t exactly what I imagined I’d be doing when I was brought on board. Then again, according to Viola, I’m trusted to handle such sensitive documents after being made a Domestic Affiliate, which she makes a point of saying, all the bloody time. Which is weird, isn’t it? I’ve only been here a couple of months and already people are put out by how much I’m trusted.’ She gave him a glance, one eyebrow raised. ‘Why would that be, I wonder?’

‘You should be thankful you’re here at all,’ Laik replied, scanning the corridor ahead with his usual soldier’s precision. ‘People like you shouldn’t even be in this building. If anyone knew—’

He cut himself off as a woman in a slim charcoal suit turned the corner, tablet in hand. Pepper nodded courteously as she passed, prompting a returned gesture. Laik showed no such display of respect. Pepper waited until she disappeared into another office, placing a thick envelope on a shiny desk before saying quietly, ‘I’m fully aware of the consequences.’

‘For both of us.’

‘Obviously.’

‘Good,’ he said, not looking at her. ‘Then act like it.’

They stopped at a door labelled REQUISITIONING AND OVERSIGHT. Pepper pressed the call panel, waited for the click of locks, and stepped inside to deliver an envelope to a tall man with silvering hair and a pocket square precise enough to cut. She murmured her pleasantries, received a curt nod, and retreated into the corridor again.

The next office was labelled INFLUENCE. The frosted glass didn’t quite obscure the silhouettes within – elegant figures in hushed debate, one idly stirring something from a jug into his tea that was clearly not milk. Pepper’s step lingered a moment, watching, and something about the practised calm of it all unsettled her. She cleared her throat, refastened her smile and made her delivery. Then left.

A soft chime rang down the corridor – an elevator on the far end opening to reveal another worker with a cart of files. Pepper stepped aside, clutching the last envelope to her, a chunky package of paperwork that attempted to fold under its own weight. She rubbed the aching wrist that had been taking most of the stress.

‘You know these aren’t exactly light. You could have offered to carry them for me.’

‘And give up our pretence? Not a chance.’

She shot him a glare, and for just a heartbeat, he gave her a look of acknowledgement. It wasn’t kind, exactly, but it was almost human.

They reached the end of the corridor, and she handed off the last of her envelopes to a secretary sitting behind a desk marked AUDITS AND CONTAINMENT. Pepper flexed her wrist as they walked back toward the lift.

‘Finally,’ she said, blowing a small sigh of relief.

He pressed the lift button. The doors parted to welcome them. He stepped inside, assuming the rigid stance of a stone sentry.

‘Come on. We can talk over lunch.’

She followed him in, arms folding, suspicious. ‘Why the sudden generosity?’

‘You deserve a treat.’

Laik reached out and jabbed a button on the panel, causing a light to pool beneath a finger. When she noticed, Pepper frowned at him.

‘Thirty-one is the restaurant,’ she pointed out.

‘That’s correct.’

‘It’s free,’ she reminded, as if this fact had somehow escaped him.

‘Which is why I’m treating you. You’re welcome.’

The lift doors slid closed on her exasperated sigh.

Floor 31 opened into something else entirely – not sterile glass or silent order, but a broad, open restaurant filled with warm light and muted chatter. Booths lined the walls, circular tables occupied the centre, and servers in dark uniforms moved with professional grace. Conversations hummed between the patrons: talk of contracts, acquisitions, negotiations and murder, all delivered with polite attitudes.

They stepped aside as a pair of Enforcers passed them, laughing under their breath about some recent assignment, until they noticed Laik and promptly hushed. Pepper was struck by how everyone here looked immaculate. Flawless hair, flawless skin, perfectly pressed suits.

Someone approached them with an efficient bow, offering a table for two. They followed along, the vast windows overlooking the night’s glittering sprawl of the city. Outside, the lights of passing cars and the faint rise of the horizon cast a gentle glow through the glass, the view interrupted only by a man dressed in a tailored charcoal suit with an open collar. His hair was the colour of desert sand, cropped short at the sides but left a little long on top, and there was an easy charm in his smile that didn’t quite manage to be convincing. The kind of man who could blend in at a business dinner and break someone’s jaw before dessert.

‘Evening, Swan,’ Pepper greeted, a smile slipping onto her lips. ‘How’s the arm?’

‘Better. Came out of the sling yesterday,’ he replied, rolling his shoulder. ‘No thanks to your brother. Need me to save you from him?’

‘You’re sweet. I’ll let you know if he gets too much.’

‘It was a tap,’ Laik said. ‘You got caught in the crossfire. You’ll get over it. He’ll get over it,’ he insisted as they continued.

‘Not likely!’ Swan called after them, returning to his own table as the pair made their way to theirs.

‘See?’ Laik said. ‘Water under the bridge.’

‘That’s a lot of water,’ Pepper murmured.

‘Lucky it’s a bloody great bridge, then.’

The waiter pulled Pepper’s chair out and offered them a pair of leather menus, then stood attentive with a poised smile. ‘What can I get for you this evening?’

‘Glazed duck breast,’ Laik said, glancing at the menu as though he already knew. ‘Medium, with plum reduction and saffron potatoes.’

‘And for you, miss?’

‘Gong Bao chicken and chow mein,’ she said, offering the menu back. ‘Without the green onions, please.’

‘And for drinks?’

‘Lemon gin, ice, and a side of Red Garment.’ Laik leaned back in his seat, searching about for familiar faces. Swan was eating with other Enforcers, and whatever they were discussing was so funny, it made him roar with laughter.

‘And for you, miss?’

‘Just a Coke, please.’

‘Anything to add?’

‘No, thank you.’

The staff didn’t react. Didn’t blink. Still, Laik watched his colleague a second longer than necessary before turning back. Pepper could sense it, how Laik was always assessing risk, always thinking two moves ahead. He was untrusting, even among his people.

‘Gong Bao?’ Laik arched a brow as the waiter left. ‘Exotic for the likes of you.’

Pepper met his gaze evenly. ‘You’ve never met the likes of me. I’m full of surprises.’

He huffed, half a laugh. ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.’

When the waiter returned with their drinks, Laik poured the miniature bottle into his glass. Its contents elegantly clouded the gin like ink through water. He tapped the last burgundy drops out on the lip of the glass, staining a red trail to their destination.

Blood.

Pepper didn’t mean to stare as she sipped her Coke. She just always did.

‘Did you want some?’ he said dryly, knowing the answer.

‘Don’t be absurd.’

‘Then stop staring.’

She traced the curve of condensation on the outside of her glass with her nail.

‘It’s just . . . difficult to get used to.’

‘Fake it, then. Just make sure you’re keeping up appearances. I don’t want you to get caught out by such an obvious oversight.’

‘I know, I know. I always thought you would need, like . . . more of it.’

‘Common misconception, and one in your favour: you don’t have to pretend to feed on some poor sucker in an alleyway, or whatever you think we do. There’s kegs of it behind the bar there. An entire industry even, to provide—’

‘Alright,’ she interrupted snippily, ‘I get it.’

‘I’m glad you do.’

He raised his glass, and this time she didn’t bother pretending to join him. When he realised that he would be left wanting, he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. For a moment, the pair sat like that. Not enemies. Far from friends. Just two individuals looking out across the city that had been transformed by the night, a city that had decided to throw them together as the collective punchline of some sick joke. When the food came, they barely spoke, the silence sitting between them like an unfinished question while they ate. Until Laik finally became impatient enough to ask it.

‘I’m guessing,’ he said as he sheared through a slice of meat with his knife, ‘you are still pissed at me.’

Pepper’s face fell immediately, jabbing at a ball of chicken with a fork so hard that the cutlery went right the way through.

‘You told people that I was your sister . . .’ Her voice sounded pained, though hushed.

‘First of all, I saved your ass; let’s not forget that little fact. And yes, I did – I didn’t have much of a choice, remember?’

‘I don’t need a stranger pretending to be my sibling. I have a sister, thank you very much. And she’s a damn sight nicer than you.’

‘So you’ve told me, like, a million times. I get it. What did you want me to say?’ he hissed. ‘Oh, right, I caught this human snooping around with her hands on a Relic of all things? How do you think that would have gone? For both of us?’ Laik checked around them to make sure they weren’t being too loud.

‘Badly, obviously.’

‘Badly. It’s the only way I could get you in here, pulling a few strings, calling in a favour with Mortis. If they didn’t believe the commotion was caused by me defending my sister from being attacked, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.’

‘It’s not like you left anyone alive who could tell different.’

‘Sorry for not sharing your sentimental view of the troublemakers who were intent on killing you. But please, tell me what I should have done instead. Be my guest.’

She glared at him, lips pressed into a line, knowing full well there was no comeback. Instead, she retreated to her drink.

‘Exactly,’ Laik bragged. ‘You’re welcome, by the way. I’ve got you where you needed to be.’

‘Let’s not pretend it’s just for my benefit,’ Pepper added.

‘You’re right. It’s not. So let’s touch on that. How goes the planning?’ he asked, dropping a slice of duck into his mouth.

‘Not well,’ Pepper admitted, twirling a collection of noodles together. ‘I don’t have permission to go to sixty-five and I couldn’t blag a convincing excuse. If I made a straight line for it, that’d be far too suspicious.’

‘Give it time,’ he said. ‘Sixty-five might be locked up, but you’ll have your moment.’

‘Yeah, but I don’t have time, do I?’

He gave a low hum of amusement, tilting his glass. ‘Who knows what wondrous opportunities will come knocking at the door?’

She gave him a look. ‘You sound like an idiot.’

‘I’m an optimist.’

‘A positive idiot, then. You’ve still not told me why you need the Rose. You know my reasons.’

‘What?’ Laik looked blankly. ‘You think I like having a monster inside me?’

Pepper was scraping up the last of the noodles from her plate as Laik’s attention went from the flickering city skyline to a figure cutting between the tables and making a beeline toward them. Her blue uniform was sharp, pressed and precisely tailored, accented with a trailing series of flowers from lapel to hem. A pair of thin-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, sharp eyes framed by shoulder-length dark hair. The eyes scanned those seated at their tables. The woman approached with purpose, heels snapping on the tiles.

Laik shifted in his seat.

‘Pepper,’ the woman said, looking between them. ‘There you are.’

She met the woman’s gaze whilst finishing off the last of the chicken. ‘Here I am.’

‘This is where you’ve been.’

Laik, still reclining in his chair, raised his glass with all the laziness of a man determined to provoke.

‘She’s on lunch, Viola. Do join us,’ he offered, full well knowing the answer.

‘We don’t take lunch. Not ones of our position,’ Viola said, barely flicking her gaze at him. ‘You especially should know that.’

‘Still on one. Sit.’ He nudged the closest chair away from the table with the shove of a foot.

Pepper cleared her throat gently and leaned forward, eyebrows raised.

‘Ignore him, he’s being . . . him. What can I do for you?’

‘Actually, it’s what I can do for you,’ Viola replied, stepping closer, her voice lowering into something more pointed. ‘It has been determined by powers greater than myself that you are to be bestowed with a considerable honour, and I need you to come immediately with me. We have a special task to perform. And promptly.’

‘Sounds ominous,’ Laik muttered, sucking an ice chip into his mouth and theatrically crunching it.

‘Not really. Word has come down that Pepper has been approved for integration for the upper floors. She is going to be formally introduced to the heirs.’

Laik straightened slightly, less out of surprise and more to draw breath for another barb.

‘Then you could have just said that. You didn’t need to be all mysterious about it. We’re not the bloody Mafia.’

‘Thank goodness your sister has enough tact and responsibility for the pair of you.’

‘Mmmmhmm. I don’t think I’ll lose sleep over that.’

‘Unlike you, I prefer those I work with to maintain a professional standard.’

‘Was there a point to all this?’ He waved his hand dismissively.

‘The point was that I am retrieving Pepper and we are leaving at this moment to accommodate this incredible opportunity. You just happened to butt in. With that resolved, we shall leave you alone to drink. May I suggest ordering another one for your ego? Best make it a large.’

Laik smirked, raising his glass in mock salute.

‘Funny.’

‘I wasn’t trying to be.’

Pepper rose, easing her chair back in with a squeak. She gave Laik a look with not a small amount of warning, then turned to follow Viola without another word.

As the two women disappeared back into the interior of Leroux Tower, the balcony fell quiet again, save for the faint clink of ice in Laik’s glass and the low hum of the city far below.

It would have remained that way, if Swan hadn’t approached him, thumbing over the screen of his mobile phone.

Laik quirked a brow.

‘You talking to me now?’

Swan gave a tut, dropping his phone into his inner jacket pocket.

‘You done eating?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Good.’ Swan cracked his neck to the side. ‘We’ve got a job.’