His voice was dust upon cold iron, the sounds sliding from one meaning to the next in a liquid grace that was mesmerizing. I felt out of breath. Shuddering, I crouched where I was. What the blazes had happened? Had almost happened?

“What do you plan on doing now?” Trent asked.

“Sir?” Francis said, his voice cracking as he blinked.

“That’s what I thought.” Trent’s fingertips quivered with his repressed anger. “Nothing. The I.S. is watching you too closely. Your usefulness is beginning to fade.”

Francis’s mouth opened. “Mr. Kalamack! Wait! Like you said, the I.S. is watching me. I can draw their attention. Keep them from the customs docks. Another Brimstone take will put me in the clear and distract them at the same time.” Francis shifted on the edge of his seat. “You can move your—things?” he finished weakly.

Things, I thought. Why didn’t he just say biodrugs? My whiskers quivered. Francis distracted the I.S. with a token amount of Brimstone while Trent moved the real moneymaker. How long? I wondered. How long had Francis worked for him? Years?

“Mr. Kalamack?” Francis whispered.

Trent placed his fingertips together as if in careful thought. Behind him, Jonathan furrowed his thin eyebrows, the worry that had filled him almost gone.

“Tell me when?” Francis begged, edging closer on his chair.

Trent pushed Francis to the back of his chair with a three-second glance. “I don’t give chances, Percy. I take opportunities.” He pulled his datebook closer, paging a few days ahead. “I would like to schedule a shipment on Friday. Southwest. Last flight before midnight to L.A. You can find your usual take at the main bus station in a locker. Keep it anonymous. My name has been in the papers too often lately.”

Francis jumped to his feet in relief. He stepped forward as if to shake Trent’s hand, then glanced at Jonathan and backed up. “Thank you, Mr. Kalamack,” he gushed. “You won’t be sorry.”

“I can’t imagine I would.” Trent looked at Jonathan, then the door. “Enjoy your afternoon,” he said in dismissal.

“Yes sir. You, too.”

I felt as if I was going to be sick as Francis bounced out of the room. Jonathan hesitated in the threshold, watching Francis make obnoxious noises at the ladies he passed in the hall.

“Mr. Percy has made himself more of a liability than an asset,” Trent breathed tiredly.

“Yes, Sa’han,” Jonathan agreed. “I strongly urge you to remove him from the payroll.”

My stomach clenched. Francis didn’t deserve to die just because he was stupid.

Trent rubbed his fingertips into his forehead. “No,” he finally said. “I’d rather keep him until I arrange for a replacement. And I may have other plans for Mr. Percy.”

“As you like, Sa’han,” Jonathan said, and softly closed the door.

Twenty

“Here, Angel,” Sara Jane coaxed. A carrot wiggled through the bars of my cage. I stretched to take it before she could let it drop. Aspen chips didn’t season them at all.