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"Stay away from the line of fire," Ten reminded me for the nth time, even as I rolled my eyes as obviously as I could. "Don't give me that look, young lady. I know you've heard it a thousand times before, but this is the most important piece of advice you could hear right now."
"Another piece of advice was not to attract any attention," I said, giving him a superior look from across the door. We were at the opposite sides of a closed door, both with shoulders against the wall and loaded guns in our hands. "But here you are, stage whispering in the silence, as if someone couldn't hear you and put a bullet in you."
I would have followed my own preaching and kept my mouth shut, except I was jittery from the ride. The temporary base was apparently an abandoned church—at least, that's what it seemed like from the architecture. There was no decoration, no figures or mosaics, but the building was high and steepled and the hallways crisscrossed each other like in mazes, all wood and the smell of incense and rotting carcass.
The door we were standing on either side of was right next to a staircase. A smaller one, nothing like the massive helical staircase we'd encountered in the foyer. The chandeliers hung brokenly, some of them intact, but most in pieces like half-completed paintings. Something about the place gave me chills. It seemed devoid of warmth, chillingly silent, and looked like the kind of place where a murder happening wouldn't be unlikely.
"No one would have a good vantage point to get to us right now," Ten said in reply to my earlier accusation. He looked more worked-up than usual, like a tightly coiled wire. "None of the mobsters will be trying to kill you, but if you accidentally end up dead, we'll have no bargaining chip either. We'll wind up dead, too, killed by the clan—or one of your boyfriends, whichever one gets here first."
I scowled at him, embarrassed by the sudden mention of my relationship. It felt strange to hear the word boyfriends. Somehow, it felt too tame. Too normal. But I clamped my mouth shut, staring resolutely at the door, and straightened, taking position in front of it. "I'm done waiting."
"Don't shoot the lock, for fuck's sake," Ten muttered, annoyed. "It's steel. Unless you want the bullet to ricochet and hit something else."
"I'll just kick the door open, then."
He didn't respond. I glanced at him, noticing that he was looking up the staircase at something on the wall. I followed his gaze, but all I saw was a defiled painting. "What?" I asked, annoyed.
"I'll be back in a few," he muttered, still looking at the wall, and straightened. I gathered he must have heard something, being closer to the steps than me. "Have to check something out. Go on ahead, if you want, but be careful. Don't die."
"Brilliant advice," I said sardonically, and raised my foot to kick the door. It gave way easily, and I made my way inside, gun raised carefully in case anyone had noticed the commotion. The room inside certainly what I had expected it to be.
