Page 63 of The Cannibal

Leaving him to collect his heart from the floor.

19

THE FIXER

They’ve been gone for too long.

I was trapped between making sure these scavengers didn’t pick Phoebe to the bone and making sure Silas and Alina didn’t tear each other to pieces.

Of course I stayed to watch, it was like a warm barrel pressed to my temple, a standoff of wit and constant shifting language. Insults disguised as compliments, compliments that sounded like threats.

The owner of North Star was a complete and utter ruffian.

Yet all I could do was stand there, hands clasped behind my back, and pretend I couldn’t polish the floor with their insides. I thought I had accepted that I would be perceived as a simple goon, but this man in particular was especially grating.

“So what are your opinions on your brother’s operation,” Mr. Soros asked Phoebe, his chin resting on his interlaced hands, “or I suppose a better question is, what does your father think?”

Phoebe’s eyes flicked to me briefly.

My shoulders tensed.

“I can’t speak for my father,” she said.

Dealing with Silas for these years had conditioned me for the worst. I forget that some are trained for public onslaughts that come with wealth and influence.

“Come now, you must have some impression! There’s no need to be overly formal here.” He leaned forward, his elbows creasing the tablecloth.

“I heard he’s old and withered and raisined,” one of Pierce’s guests snorted.

“Are they shipping him in a box to the Appraisal?” Elijah joked, as he sawed through his cut of meat.

“Is that your purpose?” Pierce teased her. “To hold the urn of dust so he can participate?”

Her smile was soft, just the right amount of pearly teeth between soft pink lips. Her posture was perfect, hands steady as she dragged the knife through her food, fork at the proper grip and angle.

Yet her eyes were that of arsenic; the most vibrant green. If you held her gaze too long, it might kill you.

“Well, don’t let him hear that.” Her words were light and playful, but no one laughed. “But you’re welcome to tell him yourself. Now, if you wanted.”

She glanced over her shoulder, even pointed to me. “Could you take notes for a telegram?” She looked back to Pierce, craning her neck forward as if she couldn’t see him too well. “Would you like to set a meeting time in an hour? Two hours?” What are you doing?

No one said anything.

Suddenly the monster under their bed began to feel real. A tangible threat rather than a bedtime story.

This was not just a creature, this was Leviathan.

An ancient, malignant thing that no one could bear the weight of his name; even I had trouble calling him Levi, no matter how long I’d been in his good graces.

A bilious headache was quickly building, and a wet streak was hot against my cheek.

I took the red pocket square and wiped, black smeared across the fabric. I knew it was a stress response to the damage, but it felt like a dire omen every occurrence.

For a miraculous moment, Pierce Soros was speechless.

Did they not expect the man to show up to his own son’s trial?

“Are you saying he’s here?” I thought the vein on Elijah’s temple would burst if his wife didn’t dig her nails into his arm.