Blue smiled. “Another time, perhaps.”
The rest of the drive passed in silence. When the car stopped in Star’s driveway, he saw the entire area was illuminated by massive lampposts. Two other guards were waiting and opened the door for Blue to emerge. He did so without hesitation. Was John somewhere inside, and Blue missed him the last time he was here?
He scanned the foyer, taking note of every detail, things he might have missed in his haste. The floor was marble and veined in gold. The walls were white and flecked with gold. Overhead, the chandelier looked like vines of golden ivy, with thousands of tiny sapphires and rubies blooming from the emerald leaves.
Clearly, Star had an obsession with gold.
Calm. Steady.
A frowning Gregory Star opened a pair of double doors leading inside his office. He was a little taller than Tyson, with salt-and-pepper hair, a slim build, and the features of a man who’d seen the worst the world had to offer—and caused a lot of it.
“Welcome, Mr. Blue. Welcome.” He waved Blue over. “Come inside. Let’s talk in private.” Then he turned his back to Blue, as if he had no fear of what Blue might do.
Blue followed, without reaching for one of his weapons. Something to marvel over. But John’s welfare came before rage and revenge.
The office was very much like Michael’s. Dark leathers, massive desk, plush rugs, and hologram pictures of his children displayed on the walls.
Star settled behind the desk, and Blue plopped into a chair across from him.
“I don’t like that you went after my daughter,” Star said, hands forming a steeple in front of his face. “She’s innocent in all of this, and doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”
Blue tsked. “Now, we both know she’s far from innocent, and frankly I’m insulted that you’d try to convince me otherwise.”
“So we’re not going to pretend ignorance of the situation,” Star said, nodding. “I approve.”
“I’m so glad,” Blue replied drily.
A fleeting smile, devoid of humor. “It took me a while to figure out that you are more than a football star, for which I’m deeply ashamed. I’m not usually so slow. But now, at least, I know you’re part of a government-run black ops team.”
“What gave me away?”
“My son sent men after Miss Black, hoping to force her father out of hiding. Those men turned up dead. And you, Mr. Blue, were spotted sneaking into her home soon after. So I asked myself, why would a playboy like you keep such a relationship secret? You wouldn’t be intimidated by the thought of bad press. You don’t care what people think of you. So I had to assume you weren’t there for sex but for protection. How am I doing so far?”
“Quite well, actually.” His reputation had finally served him well. Star had no idea Blue and Evie were romantically involved, or that Evie was an agent.
“Then, of course, there was the fact that you ran into my daughter, and bugs were found in my home. Yes. We found and destroyed them. And don’t think to try again. As of a few hours ago I added an audible pulse to the inside of my walls. I don’t know all the technical aspects, just that it will scramble any audio signals.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Star nodded as if he was serious. “Then there was the fact that my daughter became obsessed with you. And when you two were next together, she acted like a robot.” My men called me, concerned. You compelled her, I’m guessing?”
Blue shrugged.
“You know, you otherworlders might have your supernatural abilities, but we humans have our counters. There are drugs we can take to make us immune to Arcadian compulsion, though the side effects are terrible. I’d never thought it worth it. Until now. Also, I’ve seen you play. Seen the things you’ve done on the field, the power you’ve wielded. I’ve taken precautions against that as well. Try to expend your energy, I dare you.”
He was careful to keep his expression neutral. His weapons were being stripped away, one by one. “Hurrah for you, doing what you can to protect yourself. But there are other ways to get to you.”
A flare of irritation in Star’s eyes. One that held an edge of cruelty. Here was the boy from the streets. The boy suspected of selling organs on the black market. The boy with the skills to peel flesh from bones.
“You are angry with me, Mr. Blue, when there is no reason to be.”
“No reason to be? Are you kidding me? You bombed my boss and closest friends. And oh, yeah. Me.”
“You and your friends were simply collateral damage. Michael Black’s former assistant, Monica Gains, came to me. She said Mr. Black was a government agent and he was looking into seventeen disappearances now linked to my name. I was surprised, I admit. I considered Mr. Black an excellent business rival, but nothing more. She said we could help each other.”
Michael had been right.
“I rarely ask my associates for motive, but in her case, since I would be attacking the New World Order, I made an exception. Seems she had gotten herself into terrible debt, but your precious Michael wouldn’t help her. Instead, he made things worse by taking away her only source of income. And after all her years of dedicated service. Shameful.”
In his business, trust was everything, and Monica broke it. “So, when detonation day came, my friends and I were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Exactly.”
“But you decided to take advantage of the situation anyway. You sold one and took the Rakan.”
Star merely blinked, curious. “What makes you think your friend survived the blast?”
So much for not pretending. “I’ve seen the sketches. I know what you’re using him for, and I will not rest until he’s home safe.”
Star peered at him for a long while, silent, unaffected. “If I was worried about your involvement, Mr. Blue, you would be dead right now. But nothing I’ve told you can be proven, nor was it something you hadn’t already figured out on your own. I’ve taken every possible measure to protect my investment, as well as myself.”
“You’re not infallible.”
“Agree to disagree. Because, you see, Mr. Blue, if I die, your friend dies. I’m the only one who knows where he is. Without me, he will starve.”
Blue bit the side of his tongue until he tasted blood.
“Try to take my children to offer in trade, and you’ll find your friend’s parts sold at auction. An arm here, a leg there.”