The woman who had shown us in pulled the door closed. She flipped the lock and stared at Harper, her waxen features melting into an expression of rage.
"So, Captain, have you brought this man in exchange for Roffcale?" She waved her hand at me. "Did you think that's all it would take for you to walk back in here and get out alive?"
"This is Belimai Sykes." Harper's eyes were once again hidden. His mouth was as expressionless as a gash. "He's a private consultant whom I have hired to investigate the circumstances of Joan's disappearance."
"And what about Peter, you bastard?" She raised her thin white hands. Her black nails glittered in the lamplight like chips of flint. "You said you'd have him back by morning. You said he'd be fine."
"I'm sorry about Roffcale, Mica." Harper's voice was flat, the same way it had been when he had first hired me. "There's an internal inquiry going on right now. We'll find out what happened and the guilty party will be punished."
"What? Is that another of your promises, Captain?" she snapped.
"I can't give you more than my word, Mica." Harper leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He steepled his gloved fingers beneath his mouth. "You know as well as I do that I didn't kill Roffcale."
"How do I know that?" Mica demanded.
"I wouldn't be here if I had." Harper let out a tired sigh. "Mica, someone got to Roffcale in prison, and the same person took Joan. I have to find out who it was. I need help to do that."
"I should tear you to pieces," Mica said.
"Help us find Roffcale's murderer," Harper said quietly. "Then you can rip me into as many shreds as you like."
"I just might, Harper." Mica glared at him, then glanced away. "So, what do you want? More of our people to sacrifice for your sister's sake?"
Harper didn't respond to the accusation. He simply answered her first question as if she hadn't said anything else.
"I just need to talk to Nick," Harper said.
"You honestly think he'll do anything for you, after this?" Mica asked.
"I'm the lesser of two evils. If he doesn't help me, then he ensures that these killings go on."
"You're a heartless bastard, Harper."
Harper said nothing. At last Mica turned the lock and opened the door.
"I'll get him." She left the room.
"You take me to the nicest places," I whispered to Harper.
"You're the one who decided we should come here." Harper leaned back into the padding of the settee.
"You might have mentioned that all the members of Good Commons were going to want to kill you before we walked in."
"What's life without a few surprises?" Harper flashed his hand up at me. "Don't answer that. It was a rhetorical question."
"Are you still drunk from last night?" I asked.
"No." Harper smiled. "Having my life threatened always makes me a little giddy."
"Giddy?"
"I have to find my pleasures where I can."
"I'd be hesitant to call that exchange with Mica pleasant." I scraped at a droplet of wax on the arm of my chair.
"You ought to allow a man to retain his conceits, Mr. Sykes."
The slight smile on Harper's lips sank back to a flat line. "It wasn't pleasant. It shouldn't have been. I gave her my word that Roffcale would be safe in my care... He should have been safe."
"Yes, he should have been."
Both Harper and I looked up at the man who stepped through the doorway. I stared at him for several moments longer than his sudden entry deserved. It was strange to be startled, not by his silent appearance, but by the familiarity of his face and voice. He, too, seemed taken off guard by the sight of me.
I should have known from the moment I tasted the air in the room. The scent of conjuring melted with the musk of his sweat and the camphor oil he rubbed into his skin to give it a golden sheen. It was the singular essence of Nickolas Sariel.
He had hardly changed, despite the years. His eyes were still the color of opium poppies. His hair was like fire, winding through streaks of smoky red, yellow, and white. His black nails had grown longer, but they still gleamed with the same carefully filed edges.
I saw him take in a quick breath of the air as he stared at me. He would have expected to smell fresh ink and the must of old books lingering on me. But I was no longer the man he had known, and the scents of my body had become far more bitter.
"Belimai?" He whispered my name as he came closer.
There was an instant when I wanted to say yes. But a stinging pain flared through the prayers engraved into my skin.
"No." I glanced down at the wax spattered arm of my chair. "I'm afraid you've mistaken me for someone else. I'm sorry."
That was all I had to say. Sariel would not allow himself to ask a second time. He immediately turned to Harper.
"So, Captain, Mica tells me you want my help."
Harper paused for a moment, looking between Sariel and myself. We said nothing. Harper shook his head and pressed on.
"I need you to reach Joan if you can."
"Are you asking me to use my powers as the presiding officer of Good Commons? Or were you thinking of something less in keeping with the law?" Sariel crossed his arms over his chest. "Because if it's the latter, I want you to understand that the price runs very high. I won't work for free, not for you."
"You're not the first devil I've dealt with." Harper gestured to me but Sariel didn't look. "I'm aware of the going rates." Harper reached into his jacket and dropped several gold coins into Sariel's hand.
I couldn't help but wonder where Harper was coming up with all the money. Perhaps Talbott was financing him. That, or he was bankrupting himself. It bothered me that I didn't know his nature well enough to decide if he would use another man's money or only his own.
Sariel studied the coins in his hand, then shook his head. "I was thinking of a little more, Captain Harper."
Harper handed Sariel more fistfuls of coins. Harper went through every one of the pockets of his coat and even gave Sariel his watch and chain. He did it in a matter of a fact manner. If there was any expression on his face, it might have been that look of slight amusement that seemed to pass over his lips at the strangest times.
"That's all I have," Harper said at last. "If you want more, you'll have to wait until I'm paid at the end of the month."
"All I wanted was everything you had." Sariel piled the coins on the table without even counting them. I counted them. He had taken almost ten times what Harper had paid me.
"I'll hold the summons here." Sariel pushed the door shut.
He walked around the table twice, moving the candles until they formed a series of circles within each other. He whispered softly to himself as he walked. I recognized some of the words from the curses he used to spit out behind teachers' backs at St. Augustine's reform school.
"...Ashmedai, your flame." He swept his hands over the outer ring of candles and the wicks lit up. The flames skipped like stones across water, lighting circle after circle of candles. "Sariel, father of my bloodline, your power..." Sariel went on.
The flames of the candles began to burst up into geysers of fire. Sariel continued circling. His eyes were open but not focused.