Page 70 of Up in Smoke

“If I brought the budget to you, would you be able to offer suggestions for improvement?”

Having access to Mansfield’s general budget would work wonders for helping me discover more about what he was up to and why. To present the illusion of not particularly caring if I saw the budget or not, I shrugged. “It depends on if someone explains the line items I don’t readily recognize. Budgeting is just a matter of ranking things by their general importance, making sure the true necessities are met, and trimming away where little harm is done. Beyond that, I don’t know much about the overhead requirements for large businesses or cities, although I assume some of the basics must be accounted for, including maintenance, electricity, water, sewage, trash removal, and so on.”

“A new perspective can be invaluable. Yes, the things you don’t understand can be explained to you, and you have the right idea of what’s required for operating a city. Will you be here tomorrow morning? I can bring a copy of the budget over along with someone who can help you understand the things you don’t understand.”

Great. I’d have to make sure the guns were hidden, the ammunition was locked away, and do work in the storage room to keep the things I wished to remain secrets safe from prying eyes and ears. In good or bad news for whomever monitored the intact bugs, I enjoyed singing and had an entire concert of songs at my disposal. I’d even do a version of An die Freude. While I wasn’t a poet as far as I knew, if magic did listen to my intentions, it would understand if I were in New Orleans, I would be finding some way to cast a potent curse on the souls of those holding malicious responsibility for the deaths in Tulsa. At the same time, I would hope the wild magic would safeguard the innocents, those struggling to survive, and those who regretted their inability to help the fallen.

I wanted the good to thrive and the evil to face justice for what they had done.

Even if it meant I would have to, for a time, walk a path of evil and help the man I believed responsible for the murder of so many, I’d see justice served somehow. “I can be here tomorrow morning. I was going to wait for Sandro on the surface, but this is important, so I can always go up to the surface in the afternoon.”

“How about I request a guard to come notify you should Sandro be spotted? That way, you will be among the first to know of his return, and that will spare you from pacing. The weather has become rather unpredictable.”

My fox disliked the idea, but I understood the benefits of cooperating. At a minimum, Mansfield might believe I could be molded into a shape he wanted. Going to the surface to wait wouldn’t change anything.

Sandro would return or he wouldn’t.

The idea of him becoming yet another victim of the Alley left a sour taste in my mouth, but I ignored it, waiting a few moments to give the illusion I hesitated. Finally, I said, “I can work with that. What time in the morning should I expect you?”

“After breakfast. I’ll try not to disrupt your schedule too much, although I’ll send word to Mr. McCoy and Batbayar that you’ll be occupied for a few days.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

We ate, and I made certain to keep my body language relaxed and my ears pricked forward to continue my ploy of appearing to enjoy quiet company. In some ways, I appreciated his silence. It made my job easier, although I spent most of my time fantasizing about shoving my foot so far down his throat someone would have to surgically remove my shoe from his ass. My fox approved of my desire for violence, although she understood why we held back.

A good hunter waited for the perfect moment, and I needed to get my hands on his budget to determine how he planned to operate Asylum—and discover any hidden secrets the numbers might hold.

He finished before I did, although I made short work of what was left before taking the dishes to the sink. “May I ask what brought you to the Alley, Mr. Mansfield?”

“Benedict, please. Few ask me that question, amusingly. Most either believe I’m from here or they aren’t brave enough to inquire. I came here because I appreciate wild things, and there’s little wilder than the Alley. And once I came here, I loved it too much to leave.”

It amazed me one man could tell so many lies in so few words. “The Alley is wild, isn’t it? I suppose that’s why my fox likes it so much here.” I amused my fox, although she didn’t protest my choice of words. I lied, but I also spoke nothing but the truth.

My fox loved the Alley, and like me, she would do anything necessary to protect it.

“Do you remember your first storm?”

“Oh, yes,” I breathed. My first crossing through the boundary had given me a front row seat to Mother Nature’s fury, although she’d spared me that day for reasons I failed to understand. “I’d just crossed through the boundary for the first time, and the storm put on quite the show.” Mansfield wouldn’t understand how I addressed the storms as Mother Nature, so I’d play to his comfort levels rather than mine. “But you’ve surely been in the Alley far longer than I have.”

“That is true, but you’ve created waves in the short time you’ve been here. You have quite the reputation.”

I blinked at him, deciding playing stupid—and humble—would be my best bet. “I haven’t done hardly anything, although I made sure to always do my share after the storms to help clean up as I could. But in some ways, that’s self-serving. I am a scavenger, after all. Sandro’s getting used to that, as I delayed us on the road several times finding things of use.”

“Like your olive oil?”

I nodded. “The general store in that town hadn’t fully collapsed yet, and there wasn’t anybody living left there to miss it; it looked like they’d gotten wiped out right after a delivery, so all the oil was good. They didn’t have much, though. But I was able to scavenge some.”

“It’s a precious find here. You have extraordinary luck.”

Personally, I felt I had more common sense than luck. Luck was for those who stood around and did nothing, expecting good fortune to fall upon them.

I made my own luck.

Biting my tongue, I thought about his words. Resisting the urge to shrug, I replied, “Having Sandro does make me extraordinarily lucky, doesn’t it? A lot of people feel hybrids like me are worthless. We scavenge because we don’t usually have a lot of other choice. But Sandro sees me as much more than just a scavenger, and that does make me extraordinarily lucky. Anyone who has a partner who sees their worth has that luck, too. I certainly didn’t do anything to deserve that, so it must be luck.”

“I’ll admit, as someone who saw little value in hybrids for many years, I have learned I’ve made a critical mistake. You are adaptable, smart, and capable of withstanding a great deal of pressure. Other hybrids I’ve recently met share those same traits. With a little work, I will bring a great deal of change for hybrids, and they will become people of great value.”

With a better understanding of what the courtesan system actually meant, I realized he intended to enslave anyone with the misfortune of having been born with a tail and ears. Why remained a mystery.

I wouldn’t ask, as asking would reveal to him I understood his motivations more than he anticipated.

Instead, I said, “Being welcomed instead of ostracized would be a good change.”

“I will be doing what I can. I’ll take my leave, and if I don’t see you after breakfast, one of my associates will.”

To my relief, Mansfield wasted no time leaving.

To fill the hours, I resumed inventorying everything in the house, hiding my inheritance from Frankie in the storage room, and wondering what Mansfield’s ultimate goal might be.

Why would anyone want to murder so many people? Why would others fall in line with his plans? What importance did the Alley hold to Mansfield?

A plethora of questions ate away at me.

I worried my lack of answers would bring ruin to the desperate survivors remaining in Tulsa.

When I finally slept, storms filled my dreams with screaming winds, pounding rain and hail, and an all-consuming sense of dread.