Invincible (A Centennial City Novel) - By Fionn Jameson Page 0,4
to the blade.”
He laughed, a harsh caustic sound. “No shit, Sherlock. But guess what? It’s just you and me here. And I don’t think you’re going to tell them…are you?”
“It’s no concern of mine, whether you do your job or not,” I replied. “However, because your task is intertwined with mine, you are keeping me from fulfilling my duties. And that is something I will not stand for.”
“So what?” he taunted. “Are you going to kill me?”
I never killed a person without a contract. “You are the sacrifice. If you don’t die, I can’t get close to Noir. If I can’t get close to Noir, I cannot do my job. Give me one good reason why I should walk away from you.”
I couldn’t think of a reason why I would.
Silence reigned for a moment and inexplicably, he flicked his switchblade shut.
“I don’t want to die.”
On second thought, that was a pretty good reason.
But I had my orders.
“No one does. Not really.”
“We can do this another time,” he said quietly, so quiet I barely heard him over the howl of the cold, biting wind. “I don’t want to die. Not now. Not until I get the bastard who turned Shannon.”
Ah. He was one of those individuals. “Retribution?”
He opened his arms out wide and I thought I saw the glimmer of a smile amidst the shadows of his hood. “After that, I’ll be more than willing to die for the Elders. I wouldn’t have another wish in the world. Help me find the motherfucker who took Shannon. Help me find him and I’ll help you get into Noir’s good graces. How’s that sound?”
A tantalizing proposition. “What if I refuse?”
He pulled out the switchblade again, although this time the blade remained hidden. “Then we duke it out, right here, right now. I’ve heard about you, and I’m not an idiot. Only one person’s going to be walking out of here, and it won’t be me.”
Was I supposed to be flattered? “You’ve put me in a difficult situation.”
“That’s better than being dead,” he said. “I won’t rest until I find out who turned Shannon. That’s all I want to do.”
“Elder Chang would not be pleased.”
“Fuck him.”
I regarded the young man, clothed in shadows, the woefully small switchblade making my lips twitch up. “What’s your name?”
He paused, almost as though he was afraid of telling the truth.
“Jase,” he said. “Jason, but you can call me Jase.”
“I’m--”
He stopped me. “I know who you are. Pang.”
I winced. “Hwang.”
“Pang, Whang, whatever. Same difference, right?”
“As long as you don’t mind me calling you Face.”
“Ah.” He stowed the blade away. “Point taken.”
But I couldn’t have him calling me by my last name. Not if he was going to mispronounce it every time. “Ran is easier.”
“Guess so.” He took a step back and I let out a breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding. “So? You’ll help me?”
I relaxed my grip on the leather strap across one shoulder. The bag was the only way I could walk around with my sword. Regardless of what you see in movies, normal people can’t walk around with weapons in plain sight. The police tend to look down on that sort of behavior, especially in such a corrupted hellhole like Centennial.
“I don’t have a choice, do I? I can either kill you here, and find some other way to get into Noir’s fortress, or I can help you with your revenge scheme, wasting a bit of time, and then get into Noir’s home the way I was supposed to.”
“Don’t think of it like that.” A gust of wind blew down the alleyway, ruffling our clothes, pushing the hood off his head. “You’re just helping a friend. That’s all.”
A security light chose to turn on at that moment, bathing him in pale, sickly light and for a moment, it gave him a golden halo glimmering around his dark, shaggy head.
Eyes as dark as obsidian watched me carefully as he pulled the hood back over the features that should’ve belonged on a celestial being.
Pity.
I opened my mouth. “It is a shame to see such beauty go to waste.”
“Beauty? Me?” He let out a hoarse laugh. “You need to get your eyes checked.”
I shrugged. I was never one to belabor a point. “What happens now?”
“Depends. How soon do you want to finish the job Chang gave you?”
As if that even warranted any sort of answer. “What should I do?”
He looked over his shoulder warily. “What say we take this conversation somewhere else? You never know when someone