Sam risked a glance over his shoulder. The Elf had raised his hands above his head, a flickering nimbus of ruddy light forming into a sphere around them. The killer mage was readying a spell. Fear lent speed to Sam’s pistoning legs.

Then he felt a strange surge inside. Somehow he knew the spell had been completed. Heat scalded his back as the trees around him washed in flame. The hot air seared his lungs and he fell, burning.

17

The Mitsubishi Nightsky gleamed elegantly in the setting sun. The limousine’s sable bodywork drank the light to form deep, distant reflections in contrast to the immediate glitter and shine of the chromed highlights. The rear door gaped to offer access to the cool, dark interior, a counterpoint to the oppressive heat of the day.

A woman and a man walked down the steps of the Jarman Building. Their manner and total indifference to the pedestrians passing between their corporate sanctuary and the luxury vehicle at the curb marked them as the likely owners of the Nightsky.

She wore a conservative suit of the most exquisite tailoring and materials. From the sparkling silver heels that gave a fine shape to her bared legs to the platinum chain glittering within her dramatic coiffure, she moved and breathed corporate success.

He worn a dark three-piecer and moved so smoothly that the suit hardly seemed to crease as he walked. The dark hair that framed his long-boned face might have emphasized the grimness of his saturnine features, but his obvious pleasure in the woman’s company rendered him strikingly handsome. He was a dark counterpoint to her sparkle, but in every way a match to her corporate royalty.

Their expressions were relaxed as they laughed quietly at some private joke. Their eyes were only for one another and they seemed to be anticipating an evening of pleasure.

Hart slipped from the crowd to stand in front of the man. It was going to be her pleasure to ruin the start of that evening.

“Hello, Mr. Drake. Surprised to see me?” Drake pulled up. The woman shot him a glance that told Hart she had no idea what was going on. Not good, chica. You should know your bedmate better than that. “Well, Mr. Drake?”

“You are exceptionally resourceful, Ms. Hart. Why should I be surprised?”

Hart shrugged off his smooth reply. “I guess I’ll just have to be satisfied making Ms. Mirin nervous.”

The woman shifted her searching look to Hart, who carefully ignored the penetrating appraisal. Hart and the woman had never met, but the Elf knew Mirin would not care how Hart knew her name. She would rather be wondering what else Hart knew about her. Let her. As long as Mirin was confused, her uncertainty would restrain her.

“Young woman…”

“Arcstore it, Ms. Mirin,” Hart said, earning a sharp, angry look for her interruption. “I am not here for conversation with you. So keep out of it. I also suggest that you not initiate any suspicious gestures. It could cost you your life. I have friends in high places.” In reply to Mirin’s scornful smirk, Hart added, “One of those friends has a high-powered rifle trained on your head. That person is an excellent marksman. And well aware of your capabilities.”

“Is he fast enough?” Mirin said contemptuously.

Drake placed a hand on his companion’s arm. “Let’s humor Ms. Hart, Nadia. To the best of my knowledge, she is a woman of her word and scrupulous in reporting her arrangements. There is no need for violence at this time.

“Ms. Hart, perhaps you would care to step inside where there are fewer ears?”

Hart smiled, too, aware that fewer ears meant fewer eyes if he really did want to start trouble. “I think not.”

“On the stairs then. Away from the mob. Just you and I.”

Mirin seemed ready to object, but Drake forestalled her with a slight shake of the head. For Hart, he had nothing but smiles. “Would it be satisfactory for Nadia to wait in the car? I am hardly likely to offer you violence on this public street, in plain sight of all these people.”

That was what she was counting on. “She can go. As long as she cooperates, she will be safe. My friend has explosive bullets and a convenient angle to place them into your limo.”

“I don’t like threats, Ms. Hart,” Mirin stated softly. There was clear menace in her tone.

“And I don’t like having to make them. You aren’t involved in this yet. We’ll all be happier if it stays that way.”

“It’s all right, Nadia. Ms. Hart and I have had a simple misunderstanding. There will be no trouble.”

Mirin’s expression made it clear that she already thought there was trouble.

‘Go on. I’ll be along in a moment.”

Mirin acquiesced. Hart started up the steps without waiting for Drake. She stopped halfway up and turned. The sun had slipped out of sight, and the shadows had crept down to where she stood. She shivered, more from nervous anticipation than from the cool breeze that skirted the darkened face of the Jarman Building.

“Now, what is this really about?” Drake asked as he joined Hart. The light tone he had used in Mirin’s presence vanished, replaced by a businessman’s poker face.

“I think you were trying to avoid completing our contract.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t really care about your reasons, though I’ve got a pretty good idea what they were.” Drake said nothing; he merely favored her with an inquisitive look. He was cool. Too cool to be innocent, she decided. “I was still there when the Tir Taimgire border patrol hit. They used a mage to cover the Sound of their Yellowjackets There was a full squadron; more than enough for a few second-rate shadowrunners and a couple of runaway corporates. They were looking for trouble and expecting to find it. When Sloan panicked and Opened fire on them, the patrol blasted us with everything they had. Pure devastation. I could have been killed with the rest.”

As expected, Drake’s expression changed to one of concern, but he showed no surprise. “Perhaps you should talk to Tessien about that. Creatures of its kind have a reputation for untrustworthiness.”

“I did talk to Tessien. It said that you met it in Portland, saying that plans had been changed and I was headed back for Seattle.”

“You must decide who you will trust, Ms. Hart.”

“I already have,” she said, locking eyes with him.

“I see,” he said coolly. “I will have a compensatory bonus added to your account.”

“That will patch some of the larger holes in our agreement.”

“Do you require additional patches?”

“That’s not my style, Mr. Drake. I’m a pro. I can keep my mouth shut without special incentives.”