Take a Shot

Poison

I was about 30 seconds away from tearing this guy's head off and spitting down his throat. I smiled, crossing my left leg up over my right and leaning my cheek into my palm casually to hide the sparks of fire itching beneath my skin, threatening to arc between my fingers. I disliked killing, but this guy could be an exception.

Matt leaned forward, pushing the paper back towards the man with a smile. The man hardly glanced at them before returning his attention to me.

"We actually have a fairly skilled combatant of our own, Ms. Emerald, if you're interested in a little fight?"

I was actually interested in picking a fight and then being able to leave, but this was Matt's mission. He wouldn't want me fighting, considering this is the first real job we'd been able to do together since...

"You died! You died, Em, and I..."

Matt had held up remarkably well through all of this. This negotiation was doomed from the beginning, since this organization was flat broke, but he'd still been respectful and kept everything above board. This kingpin, if he could even technically be called that, had made it fairly obvious that they didn't actually want to do business with Harmony; they wanted me. If his less-than-furtive glances at the tech on my arm and gun on my hip weren't telling enough, his almost blatant ignoring of Matt's work was solid proof. It was pissing me off. But still, Matt remained calm and collected, continuing to try to redirect the conversation to the offer on the table.

As the kingpin looked back at me again, my eyes shifted to my partner.

Part of me wished he would get angry.

But if he got angry, he'd have to get dirty.

I shoved the thought out of my head, refocusing to see the man in the plush chair across the desk from us had snapped and a man in a suit he likely didn't own had stepped forward with two glasses of...probably alcohol. The glasses were clear. That was annoying. This schmuck couldn't be bothered to hide that he wanted at least one of us dead.

They wanted to recruit me. Meaning the one they wanted dead was Matt.

My chest hurt.

The man pointed behind us to a portrait of an older man. I barely turned my head to look at the picture I'd seen on the way in. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the man wave a hand over the leftmost glass. I suppressed a grimace. He was going to poison my partner right in front of me. This had gotten dangerous, fast. I was never coming on one of these 'first contact missions' again. Way too risky. But Matt was well-trained; he knew better than to accept an offer of food or beverage from someone not properly vetted.

I turned my head back as Matt did, which was as the blue-haired dipshit across the desk from us finished crowing about his great-great-grandfather or something equally stupid. All our sages were like this, too. Fancy bloodlines, yada yada. This man wasn't even a magician, as far as I could tell.

The man smiled at us as he slid the drinks across the table. Matt nudged the glass to the side a bit with a matching smile.

"It's rude to drink alone. If we can get all this settled, perhaps then we can toast to the future," he suggested. I tried not to smile. Good boy.

"Nonsense! It would be inhospitable of us to not offer our guests something for their trouble, even if this doesn't end up working out."

The man's eyes moved to me. Another person popped their head in the door behind the desk, beckoning for one of the soldiers. Said soldier shifted, revealing the impressive gun strapped to his back. I looked to the leftmost wall. Had to pretend I hadn't seen that. I already knew it was bad for us to be here, but that shift sent us from bad straight into worse.