Friends Down Low (ONC2022)

Chapter 9 - The Deadeye

"I hope you didn't eat my pie," McGavin said aloud and stick-tapped his way to our booth.

Neither the Saint nor her followers made any aggressive movements, so I cleared my throat and said, "Hey McGavin, the Saint of Shadows is here to see us."

He paused. "Is that so? That bitch didn't eat our pies, did she?"

The insult brought Preston to his feet but a hiss from the Saint reseated him. "Ah. Terry McGavin. I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting you."

"The pleasure is all yours, sexy lady." He leaned to me then and whispered, "Is she a sexy lady?"

I didn't want to admit it but also didn't want to lie to a blind man. "Yeah. Kind of. In a scary way."

"Whew. Good. I don't want to be mislabeling people."

The Saint waved a hand. "You can stop whispering. I hear all."

"Right. Good ears you got. How is it that you're strolling around in the daytime? They make sunblock that strong now?"

The Saint smiled fiendishly. "There are ways around it. I don't enjoy the risk, but I couldn't put off meeting Mr. Walsh here any longer. Time has always been on my side, but I'm ready to put this long-standing feud to rest."

I leaned to McGavin. "She did something outside. It looks like night. All the windows are dark."

McGavin nodded. "Thanks for the update. Damn black magic. Always a pain in the ass."

"Mr. McGavin, I don't understand your presence here and that lack of knowledge vexes me. You're a retired assassin who lost his vision after a deal gone wrong with a demon. Didn't really read the fine print of that contract, did you?"

"Nope. I got snookered in that deal. I can't offer up any defense."

"Just as you can't hope to defend Finnigan from me. Even in your prime, you were just a mortal with a gun. Now you need a stick to find your way to the bathroom." The Saint leaned back on the stool. "I have no desire to kill an old dog like yourself. Once upon a time, you'd have been lined up on my side in this confrontation. You could find your way back you know? It's possible that I could restore your sight. We'd just have to come to terms. I could use someone like you. Or rather, someone like you used to be. I can bring your shadow back to you, fill that hollowness inside yourself."

My heart skipped a beat at the thought that McGavin may consider the offer. While I still wasn't sure what good he would be in this conflict, the idea of having nobody standing with me was horrifying. With his visor-glasses and bushy mustache, I couldn't get a read on him, so I fidgeted nervously until he spoke.

"No thanks," McGavin finally said and I let out a too-obvious sigh of relief. "I think we've already established I'm not very good at cutting deals with you nefarious types."

The Saint frowned, openly disappointed. "Don't be too hasty. This offer won't come again. No one refuses me twice."

"Again, I must decline. I learned my lesson the hard way a long time ago."

"Fine. Then do me this one courtesy and learn a new lesson today. Stand aside. While I admire your bravery for standing between Finnigan and me, there is little you can do to stop us from taking him. I'd hate to subject Finnigan to seeing such bloodshed during our first meeting."

My head swam with conflicting thoughts. There was something oddly soothing about the Saint's voice, and her argument made sense. The display outside the windows had finally quashed all remnants of my supernatural skepticism and we were significantly outnumbered. McGavin was an annoying weirdo for sure but I didn't want to see him die for me.