The Dream Crafter(30)

Rhaum gave a half-smile and took the hand, completing the contract. “Then glad I can be here for you.”

As he withdrew his hand, Merc suppressed the half-fanciful urge to check for the snakebite. It was how all his interactions with Rhaum ended, with the bone deep assurance he’d been marked and somehow poisoned, and not knowing where the antidote was. In this case, though, there had been no choice.

“Now you can’t say we don’t appreciate the help, Rhaum darlin’. We’re thankful we can always count on you.” The female voice came from the corner, and within moments the woman who spoke popped out from the shadows. She crossed the room, all five-ten of easy swagger and commanding presence, her coarse, dark hair in a no fuss ponytail and those near-black eyes bright as they latched onto him. “Been too long, Merc. I’m gonna get a complex if the only time you call me is for help, though.”

“Nemesis.” He clasped her forearm, the greeting second-nature to him after all these years, as was the smile she brought to his face. “Looking a little tired there. Am I keeping you out too late now that you’re an old lady?”

“More like I let you drag me away from an interesting situation, so be grateful for my kindness and mercy.” Her response was easy and playful, and a bit of weight shifted from his shoulders at the familiar camaraderie. She turned to Rhaum and clicked her tongue, motioning with her head towards the door. “Now that you and Merc are square, do you think you could give us a few to catch up in private?”

Rhaum pushed back, a nod of acknowledgement towards Nemesis and pure irritation directed towards Merc. In moments they were alone, and Nemesis backed away to press a small black button against the wall. “Safe to talk now. Not to say I don’t trust Rhaum, but I don’t trust Rhaum.”

“You look good.”

“You look like shit,” she came back with, but that generous mouth with its very full lips was curved upward, and nothing about her body language told she was nervous about meeting with a wanted man. “Understandable. Fallon’s gunnin’ for you. I might even break a sweat under those circumstances.”

“Fallon’s the least of my worries. I got lots of people gunning for me.”

Nemesis leveled a lazy, humoring look in his direction. “I don’t care if you got every necromancer across the Realms on your tail, Fallon will never be the least of anyone’s worries, and after your little trick, you’ve made it personal with her.” Now Nemesis brightened, and she sent him a wink before starting to meander around the room, looking at this and that. “Impressive, by the way. I haven’t heard anyone getting the drop on her in a long time.”

“Her own fault. She got lazy.” That was what he saw, at that café. Fallon standing there cocksure and queen of all, and a scared, disillusioned woman clutching her bag and defiant even as she saw everything crumbling around her. Pissed him off. “She got cocky, and she got what she deserved.”

Nemesis came before a painting that looked like the artist threw brushes at the canvas and sold the end result. Turning her head in his direction, she pointed at it with furrowed brows, her face all comical disbelief. “This went for a lot of money, didn’t it?” Merc only got out a huff of impatience before her smile came back, her hands coming up again, sorry sorry. “No doubt. Doesn’t change the fact it’s now not Guild business to her.”

“And your people?”

Now she was standing in front of a more classical painting, where you actually saw that the person was a person. “If they were interested, we wouldn’t be having this oh-so-lovely get together. The Seven Houses feels this matter is beneath them. The Guild is on their own.”

One small bit of good news in an otherwise crappy time. “That mean you’re going to help me?”

Playfulness fled from her face for one long moment. He was used to Nemesis’s heavy-lidded gaze, the blank eyes all the scarier for the complete absence of anything. Used to it, but sure as hells didn’t like it. Then she blinked, and life came back. “Any chance to remind Fallon of a screw-up should be taken, so sure, I’m in. What do you want me to do?”

“I’ve heard Hadrien has gone to ground – Shisen.”

“You’ve talked to him? Is he helping?”

“I’ve given him an interesting problem. He’ll search out the answer, but what good it will do me remains to be seen.” Since Nemesis was as familiar with Shisen’s methods of help as he was, no further explanation was needed, and her nod confirmed this. “I need Hadrien. He can’t fall into the Guild’s hands.”