“That was completely unfair.” Saiman pointed his index finger at him while still holding the glass. “Let’s cut to the chase. I know that a delegation of shapeshifters disembarked in Charleston, I know that Desandra Kral, formerly of the Obluda pack, is having twins, and I know that you have been invited to act as her bodyguard and mediator of the inheritance dispute and that you will be paid in panacea to do so.”

Saiman in a nutshell. I had no idea how he knew all of this, but he did.

“You need a ship. This vessel will have to be oceanworthy, will need an experienced crew, and will require cabin space for at least fifteen people. What’s the destination?”

“Gagra on the northern coast of the Republic of Georgia.”

Saiman blinked. “You mean the Black Sea? Do you really want to go to the Black Sea?”

“Yes,” Curran said.

I nodded. “We do.”

Saying things like We think this is a trap and We would rather cut off our left foot than go would endanger our ship acquisition and our badass image.

Saiman poured himself more scotch. “I can’t help but point out that the three packs involved could’ve found someone in the immediate vicinity to act as a neutral fourth party.”

“Your opinion is noted,” Curran said.

“Have you ever tried to reverse engineer the panacea?” I asked.

“Yes, as a matter of fact I have,” Saiman said. “I can give you the exact list of ingredients and quantities. The secret isn’t in the chemical composition; it’s in the process of preparation, which I’m unable to replicate. To put it plainly, they cook it with magic and I don’t know the specifics. I’m also reasonably certain that the panacea is manufactured by a single entity or organization and then distributed throughout Europe.”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s a well-known secret that five years ago your partner offered three hundred thousand dollars and Pack protection to anyone willing to sell him the recipe and demonstrate its preparation. If the panacea were manufactured by each pack individually, someone would’ve been desperate enough to take him up on his offer.”

Curran grimaced. “It’s five hundred thousand now.”

“Still no takers?” Saiman arched his eyebrow.

“No.”

Saiman swirled the whiskey in his glass. “Suppose I provide a vessel. Crossing the Atlantic is a dangerous venture. Between the hurricanes, the pirates, and the sea monsters, there is a very real possibility that your ship will sink and not at all in a metaphorical sense. I’ve been in shipping for over a decade and I still lose two to four ships per year. If you were to meet your untimely demise, your thugs would blame me.”

“Most likely,” Curran said.