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"Who was that man with Jenkins before?" I ask, though I already know. I need to get her talking again.
"Anders Drake," she murmurs.
The name taps at the corner of my brain, begging me to remember some deep-buried memory, but it won't unearth itself. If I've heard the name, it wasn't recently. Maybe I knew him when we were in Synd. Ten years is a long time to remember some random person, especially when I was barely an adult.
"Where is he from?"
"Westmont. Down south. But—" She clamps her lips together, dropping her forehead to her knees.
"But?" I prompt when she doesn't continue. "But that's not where he's originally from? But he hasn't been back there in a while? But what?"
"I shouldn't tell you," she mumbles.
"Because they wouldn't want you to?"
She lifts her head, resting her chin on her knees. "Why do you care?"
"I like to know who I'm working with." I cross my arms, digging my nails into the fabric of my shirt. Her eyes dart down, and I forcibly relax my muscles.
"He used to live in Synd, which is why he's upset with Jenkins."
I bite my cheek, eyeing her, judging whether I should take the risk. There's a million ways that this could go wrong and only one way it can go right. I'm relying on my wits and hoping something goes my way.
None of my decisions so far have been calculated moves. Most of them have fallen into my lap and I've taken advantage of them. I should cut my losses, go home, and contact Helms for help. They have a lot to deal with in the aftermath of the Guild coming through and probably can't offer much, but I'm in over my head.
"If you could get out, would you?" I ask, tucking my hands in my pockets.
She stares at me, throat bobbing, and her fingers flex over and over as she contemplates my question. If she doesn't give in, I'll be in deeper shit than before. Jenkins is expecting me to do awful things to her—take her, use her, probably beat her. When she comes back no worse for wear, he might question who I really am.
I've laid the groundwork at least, so if he searches Dante Cruz, an entirely different persona will distract him. I'll never be able to repay Nemesis, the mysterious hacker from Synd. Unless the shit she put in place falls apart. According to Ren, she's the best in the game. I'll have to take his word for it. My life quite literally depends on it.
"Who are you?" she whispers, narrowing her eyes.
"I'm assuming you're not asking for my name again. Answer my question and I'll give you a little insight."
"My entire existence is at the mercy of evil men. I have been stripped of every conceivable human right and forced to entertain on the whims of others. Ask that question to anyone in my position and they'll tell you that the Guild is a necessary evil, and they are grateful to no longer be subjected to the horrors of the outside world. And every single one of them would lie, if only to survive another session, another day, another week, all while knowing they'll never escape. We'll perish within the shadows, unimportant and forgotten. So don't come in here asking questions you already know the answers to, Mr. Cruz."
"Fair point," I mumble, rocking back on my heels.
"Why do you care?"
"You seem different."I clear my throat, realizing I need to retreat behind my persona. "While I'd rather be spending this time doing other things, I have more pressing issues you might be able to help me with."
She peers over my shoulder, refusing to look me in the eye.
"I can't."
"You haven't even heard what I need."
She's shaking her head before I finish. "It doesn't matter. I'm in no position to do anything but hand over my body to you for a time."
She tips her chin up, daring me to deny it. Sighing, I walk to the window, peeking through the curtains into the night. We face the back side of the property. Moonlight dances across the pond, the gentle waves lapping up the beams. They disappear, only to reemerge on the next crest. How something so beautiful can house such evil is beyond the realm of understanding.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. "Wouldn't you rather help me than what Jenkins would have me do to you?"
Aelia pales as her eyes dart around the room. "What do you want?"
"I'd like to know how the Guild makes its money."
