Page 94 of Broken Mercy
I never thought much about these passages when I was younger. They were fun, but it never occurred to me how they could be used. Arsen and his brothers probably snuck around this house all the time, ghosting around like wraiths, appearing out of nowhere like they popped into being right in the middle of thin air. That’s how it feels, stepping from the passage and into Arsen’s massive office, exiting through a door hidden behind a section of bookshelf in the back corner near the fireplace.
Brenden holds a hand behind him, cautioning me to go slow. He’s hesitating, but I can’t see why, until I edge around him and out into the relatively cleaner air of the main room. The space is immediately overwhelming: lots of wood, lots of green and gold, an office built for a king with a huge desk at the far end set in front of several enormous stained-glass windows. There’s a crown, a wolf, a rose, and Arsen’s sitting with his feet on the desk, a bottle of whisky in front of him, a glass in his hand, and a gun in the other.
The barrel doesn’t waver as he takes a drink.
“Took you long enough.” Arsen’s voice is low and resonant. He’s surprisingly calm.
“How’d you know?”
“If you’re worried your sister sold you out, you shouldn’t be. There are motion sensors in the walls now, ever since your last trick.”
Brenden stiffens. I nearly curse. We should’ve thought about that. Of course Arsen would increase security after we used this ploy to rob him.
“Why’d you let us come?”
“Because it’s easier than hunting you down.” Arsen motions with the gun. “Come in. Get comfortable. We have some things to discuss.”
It’s a real struggle not to openly groan. All this time, I thought we were going to get the drop on Arsen, surprise him for once, but instead he anticipated our move and caught us in the act. Now he’s got the power.
That’s not a good sign.
But Brenden strides into the room. He sits confidently in a plush, padded chair, and gestures for me to join him. I take the seat to his right, struggling not to tremble.
This isn’t what I was made for.
My brothers have always kept me and my sisters out of high-level family discussions. Sure, I can go to a charity gala and follow all the proper rules of propriety and whatever, but I’ve never been in a negotiation like this. It’s terrifying, but it’s also exhilarating.
“We have both ledgers.” Brenden dives right into it. “Just so you know, it isn’t only one half. We have them both.”
Arsen grunts and takes another drink. He lowers the gun, placing it down on top of his desk, but still within easy reach. “How’d you manage that?”
“The Davises are getting soft in their old age.”
“I knew they’d be a problem eventually. Their rates are good and they don’t ask questions, but you’re right. They’re sloppy. I’ll have to find a new supplier sooner than anticipated.” Arsen takes two more glasses from his bottom drawer and pours. He pushes them over.
Brenden passes one to me and takes a sip of the other. He gives me a look and I follow suit like this is no big deal. The bourbon is rich and smoky and surprisingly good, even though it’s not usually my thing. But this must be how the boys get through their talks without killing each other: plenty of good hard liquor.
“You know where you screwed up?” I flinch at Brenden’s tone and put a hand on his arm, but he keeps going. “It was the Sam documents you wanted. Honestly, any other job, and I’d be gone by now. But you had to go after him.”
“Why else place you in their family? Sam Sarkissian’s been an ongoing problem for some time now. I figured we could handle him together.”
“My brother doesn’t need handling,” I say sharper than intended but it pisses me off the way Arsen talks about him.
“You know, Tallie, I always liked you, mostly because you never talked very much growing up.”
I grit my teeth, the bastard. He says it like it’s not meant to be an insult, but that’s how Arsen is. He kicks and stabs with no expression and you’re expected to either keep up or get killed.
“I’m proposing a simple exchange. I’ll return the stolen documents. Your ledger and the Davis half. And once that’s done, you’ll forgive Sam, and we’ll all move on from this mess.”
Arsen rolls his glass in a circle. “Sounds simple enough.”
“He’s not a real problem,” I say quickly, ignoring the look Brenden gives me. “Sam’s ambitious, but he wants to be a part of the family, that’s all. You can’t hold it against him.”
“I can and I do. Your brother has been messing with important people. I’ve gotten more than a few complaints, and it’s well within my rights as the Patron of the Brotherhood to handle my business as I see fit.”
His rebuke is sharp and I wilt away from him. All my life he’s been Arsen, my scary cousin, but now he’s something else. I realize clearly I’ve never spoken with the Patron of the Brotherhood before even though I’ve talked to Arsen many times over the years. This man is different from the boy I knew growing up and I can’t let myself forget it.
Brenden draws attention back onto him.
