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Chapter 19 - From the Desk of Mordecai Crossbell

What was it with this insipid town and hills? How had the original settlers thought this place, of all places, was a good spot to settle? I had been all over the world, and while each place paled in comparison to my beautiful London, San Francisco was by far the most annoying city I had ever visited. It was like being on waves travelling from one end of the city to the other.

Thankfully, if things worked out as I had planned, I would no longer have to deal with the burden of travelling. Instead, I would be in a position where men would come to me for things—as they should.

Rubbing my shoulder, I headed upstairs to Tristan's office. The wound was hurting again. The doctor who had patched me up said that in cold weather the wound could ache. It didn't help that I did not give it enough time to rest, constantly straining it with my endeavours about the city both honourable and clandestine. I gazed down at my new cane. I was glad it was part of my usual ensemble; I required it sometimes when the aches were particularly bad. I should summon a doctor soon, just to be safe.

I thought I heard voices upstairs. Tristan sounded angry about something, but when I rounded the corner I saw the fox standing alone in his office in front of his desk, looking perturbed. Clearing my throat, I entered and the marble fox glanced at me with disdain. He was clearly in a bad mood.

“Talking to yourself?" I asked.

“Mr. Crossbell, this is not a good time." Tristan walked around his desk and put his hands on it, leaning forward. He was annoyed. Not that I cared, of course.

I cleared my throat. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that your time is of equal importance or severity as my own, Mr. Perry. I remind you that it is not and that I do not care if your day is busy with trivialities. I'm here on business."

The man's tail stopped wagging and puffed up. His fingers curled into his desk and then relaxed. He was keeping himself in check. I wonder what would happen if I kept pushing him. No, I still needed him, even if only for a short time. He took a slow breath and looked me in the eyes. “What can I do for you?"

“I'm here to make sure you are aware that three more shipments of…provisions…will be at the presidio in the coming weeks. I've also arranged for some shipments of goods from Crossbell Industries to ship out of San Francisco on the final day of delivery."

Tristan blinked a few times. “That's it? You could've sent a letter."

That made me quirk a brow. That was not like him. “And leave a papertrail for you to use against me? Or to be discovered by some errant idiot and letting the police know? I may be powerful but I do not have enough sway to stop them from coming down on myself, let alone you, should something like that develop."

“Saw through my plans, did you?" The fox sounded annoyed. Not so much at me as it was someone else. Or something else. He laughed and stepped out from behind his desk again, standing in front of me and perching himself on the edge of it. “I also assume you want something."

“Your powers of deduction are wasted here in this church." I did not mean it, and I kept my tone in such a way that Tristan knew it. I exhaled slowly. “I'm going to assume you know about the event that happened not too long ago at the all-male bordello not far from here."

“Yeah"—now the anger was gone from his voice—“you and that crazy priest were out there stirring up trouble. You think you could lay off? We already have racial tensions building between the Hispanic and Chinese parts of the town."

There was no need to dance around that subject. It pleased me to know the murders were working so well. Even if Perry was lying or embellishing, the seeds were there and would only take a few gentle nudges to have them take root.

“I am merely doing the work of the people," I said, hand on my chest in feigned surprise. “And the people of this city do not want such sinners within its borders."

“Bullshit," Tristan growled. “I've been here my whole life and the only way the religious wackadoodles even found out about the Arc was because of you. The homosexual establishments are fine until someone decides it isn't, and then people get hurt. No one in Chinatown cares about it. They're nice people."

“Sins are often cloaked in the idea of goodness and grace, Tristan. As good soldiers of the faith, it is our duty to—"

“Oh cut the crap! I know you don't believe the Bible any more than I do, and I know you're also a homosexual because you get aroused looking at me sometimes when I'm not looking. I've seen you also stop and ogle at some of the tigers who come in and out of here. You like men—"

“Careful," I hissed from between pursed lips. “You spread rumours about me in this town, when I am climbing so hard and trying my best, and you may just find yourself on the wrong end of a rifle."

Tristan narrowed his dark eyes. “Is that a threat?"

“As cliché as that question is, so is my reply: yes." This was already annoying me.

“We're done," the marbled fox quickly added, glaring at me with eyes of rage. He usually looked morose, but this time was different.

“I dare say we are not," I chuckled a little bit and slammed the end of my cane into the floor. “You and I are still in a business arrangement, and I fully expect you to cooperate until the deal is concluded." I paused for a second for dramatic effect—a caesura, if you will. “To put a finer point on it, my friend, you need me far more than I need you."

“You shouldn't bluff. You aren't very good at it."

I laughed and shook my head. “Oh, Mr. Perry, you are too delicious. While it's true that I do not have as many contacts as I would've liked before settling in this godforsaken town, that is not the case anymore." I even showed my sharp teeth in a wicked grin. “I've been meeting people of influence and power almost daily since our partnership took root, and your good name has opened many doors. My own network is established. Fledgling though it is, if we were to part ways now, I would not be set back too far."

“I could work against you, poison the well, turn them against you—"

“You could try, but it would have only marginal results. You have nothing to explain your sudden disinterest in my business practices. Anything you may share is emotional and informal, not the kind of things on which many people would base a business deal, Mr. Perry."

Tristan said nothing, his hand twitching, fingers curling. I had never seen the fox so angry before. Had I found a button? This called for some more experimentation. I love conducting experiments, after all.

“Now let us stop playing this trite game and continue on as we agreed to. You get your merchandise, and the ways to get it to your Middle Kingdom, and I get more people to talk to and impress. I'll also continue to keep money flowing into St. Andrews. But I need people to help rally against the homosexual brothels."

“I will ask, but not demand. The Arc is too close to St. Andrews, and I'm being genuine when I say they are good men."

I didn't think he'd be so stubborn. He was a fool for defying me, but I was calm and collected. I was almost done with him.

“Now, it's my turn," the fox said, smiling and looking suddenly far more relaxed than he had been a moment ago. “I want to know the whole story."

“You are told exactly what you need to know, Mr. Perry. Anything else is an indulgence and I am under no obligation to reveal more."

Tristan shook his head. “Whole story. Now!"

I growled so deep it came out almost like a purr. “This is not the way to speak to your betters, Mr. Perry. I am not a man who gets told to do anything."

It was stupid of me, but as I turned my shoulder to leave, I saw the damned fox move so quickly that I could just barely register his movement out of the corner of my eye. His arm shot out like a bullet and I saw the flash of bladed metal pass right by my head. With a jerk of his body, Tristan changed the direction of the blade by turning the soft rope attached to it.

Instinctually I pulled up the end of my cane, and the rope coiled around my neck, binding it with my hand wedged up near the cane's handle. In a flash Tristan was behind me, pushing the blade against my throat, causing me to swallow. He had another blade against my abdomen, ready to disembowel me if necessary.

“No. Everything. Now," he growled against my ear.

“Such a beautiful weapon," I said through a strained voice. I was not choking to death but I was uncomfortable. “Tell me, was it your father who taught you how to fight with it?"

I felt the man shake behind me and then push the blade further into my throat. I winced as it actually cut my flesh. I needed to redirect or rage would win and I would die.

“Very well," I wheezed. “I shall tell you everything. But you will release me."

“No." It was spoken so softly that it would have probably scared weaker men than I.

I maintained my steady breathing, unwilling to let this man threaten me. “What I have to say is long, and I will not say it like this. Either end me or release me."

It was indeed a gamble. I was betting the offer of information would be enough.

And It was. I was soon free of the rope and the blade. I took a step back, turning to the man as I rubbed my throat. A small sliver of crimson stained my glove. I shook my head and pulled out a kerchief, dabbing my throat.

The fox stood a few metres from me with the rope coiled around his forearm. His hand maintained a steady grip on the blade. “You can begin by telling me what you know about my father."

“A proper gentleman," I answered, “from what I could deduce based on the information and testimonies gathered by the men I hired to look into your family. At first I was confused when I found out about him, but then I started to dig deeper—"

“Get to the point," the fox ordered coldly.

I sighed. “You have no appreciation for drama…but very well. A man who saw combat, nearly died, if the information I have is to be believed. A bit of a loner when it comes to your clans, rejecting your 'ways' until that near-miss with a cannon ball. When he returned and decided to raise a family…well, let's just say he made sure you boys would never be able to claim you're weak."

The fox bore holes into me with his dark eyes. This was fun but dangerous. I had to be a bit more careful about what I shared if I wanted to walk out of this room without further injury—or be able to walk out at all.

I continued: “He raised your two older brothers—twins—to be perfect little weapons. He let them develop their own innate skills and when he saw weakness in one he made sure the other mastered. While excellent alone they are deadly together. Records show the boys died in the fire in Chicago. I can safely say they're alive."

The fox's expression changed—it was now mixed with a hint of surprise. “Are you serious?"

“Oh, yes, when I found out about them I also came upon your information. You, the baby half-brother living here after your mother left your father. Or did she kill him? The police reports were inconclusive."

“She would never—"

“She is from your quite-annoying family. I assume that even if by name only, she is fully capable of murder. All of you Perrys are. Annoying creatures. Your family clans are bigger in other parts of the world—Japan, for example—and in other parts of America, but you boys wouldn't know anything about that since you were sired by a wretch."

I could tell the fox was barely holding himself together. A purr echoed out from my throat, giving away I was enjoying myself a little too much.

“And my brothers?" he asked.

That earned the fox a scowl and a sneer, a tilt of my chin upwards, and a huff. “Lunatics," I spat out.

“What do you mean? Father always spoke fondly of Fizgerald and Ruttiger."

“They're like you: dangerous, violent, and trained at a young age to answer conflict with a blade rather than a word or compromise. One favours a pistol and the other a rather sharp knife. Both are still alive as far as I know." The wound in my shoulder ached, but I would not give Tristan the satisfaction of watching me rub it.

The marble fox actually relaxed and stepped back, a lot of the hate in his eyes having vanished. What was that emotion? Sadness? Longing? Could I use this?

“How do you know my brothers? You clearly don't like them. I doubt you were business partners."

“They're the dubious protectors of my greatest desire. They've stood in my way twice now from the one thing I want most in this mortal coil, Mr. Perry. Your brothers have driven me mad. The Yin and Yang as I think of them — they are annoying when together."

“How…?"

“They exist as complements, as far as I can tell." I smiled a little and fixed my tie, sighing as I knew I would not have to fight for my life. “Where one lacks the other excels, and together they are dangerous and deadly, as I've told you. I have not seen them apart for very long, but I suspect they do not function well when separated."

“How do you know?"

“I'm quite well-versed in the field of psychology"—after all, I needed to know it well to make my perfect Warrior before he escaped my control—“and it gives me insight into how the mind works, Mr. Perry. And based on my knowledge, I can deduce a lot from the smallest of hints, such as body language."

Tristan was thinking, flicking his eyes back and forth as he looked down at some papers on his desk, fingers twitching as he thought long and hard about whatever trivialities were running through that pedantic skull of his. “Where are they?"

“The last time I saw their annoying visages was in New York City. I doubt they've left—they seemed well situated within the local vulpine gangs there—and their protectee is still there."

“And just who is this…person they protect?"

“HE IS THE EMBODIMENT OF PERFECTION!" I screamed, stepping close to Tristan and putting the head of the cane against his throat in a flash. The marble fox looked stunned and barely had time to lift his blade. The sound of two metals clashing against one another echoed inside the room. A second later, the blade landed on the wooden floor with a dull thud. I had outpowered him.

“HE IS EVERYTHING IN THIS WORLD AND HE WILL BE MINE! YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE PAINS I GO THROUGH EVERY DAY KNOWING YOUR DECREPIT FAMILY IS ALL OVER HIM!!"

I screamed right into Tristan's face, fangs bared and eyes wide. I was furious. I wanted to kill him right here. I could. It would be so simple. All I needed was to apply some pressure to the throat. But I still needed him. For now.

“A male lover?" Tristan asked, dumbfounded. “But you want to attack the Arc, I don't—"

“Simon is more than just a male lover, you idiot! He is perfect. He is beauty. He is easily the one thing in this world that stands as my equal in all measures. He is the one I will kneel before and swear myself to, and if not, I will keep him close until he realises that I am the one he truly deserves and desires. Not these fleeting twins or his pack of tigers, but me! I deserve him! I have followed him across the globe and so, I will have him!"

“Simon…" Tristan muttered, his eyes flicking and tongue licking his upper lip as if tasting the name. He was about to say something but quickly closed his muzzle.

I glared, leaning closer, our lips almost touching, my hand shaking as it held the head of my cane against his throat. “What were you about to say?"

I did not get to hear his answer as something heavy hit me on the back of the head, causing me to cry out in surprise and stumble forward. I moved with instinct and had a knife out of my vest and against Tristan's side, ready to dig it in should I need to. I whirled us both around to see…the brat. The Boy.

“Mongrel" was how you could describe the boy in front of me. Dirty brown-and-cream-colored fur, his eyes as sharp and scowling more than any feline. His shirt was damaged and his trousers held up by a rope of all things. I recognised him. He was the one to throw something at me at the rally. I had been looking for him.

“Let him go!" the Boy screamed at me. He was holding some kind of figurine of a fox now, much like a baseball bat.

“Lucas!" Tristan screamed. “You…hide, dammit!"

I shoved Tristan away and pointed my knife at him. “Stay, or your friend will see just how mean I can be." I turned back to the boy and slowly walked over to him. To his credit he didn't back down, nor did he look scared.

“So your name is Lucas," I purred, within arm's reach of him. “Handsome name for a brat who is nothing in this world."

“Says the cat with the stupid ears!" As he shouted, the boy took a swing at me. I stepped to the side and dodged it. But he was more agile than I anticipated and almost hit me on his back swing. I reached out and caught the statue, yanking it from his hands and throwing it to the floor where it broke.

“Where I come from, boys do not speak to elders in such a manner, especially a nobleman such as I. In years past I could have you executed for merely annoying me, Boy. Wounding me certainly would have earned you a harsh punishment back home."

“Yeah, well, we ain't in London or Paris or whatever it is you're from so GET OUT OF HERE!"

“Boys like you are prideful little things. They consider themselves immortal. I knew another wolf boy, once. He was nothing like you, you know. Soft-spoken and quiet, but he would make the sweetest cries when we were alone…it is a shame I was too eager and broke my toy. I am, as they say, in the market for something new."

“Mordecai!" Tristan growled, standing up and holding his roped blade again. I chuckled. I wouldn't be able to actually sneak this pup out.

I reached down and grabbed the boy by his tattered shirt and hoisted him up into the air with one arm. I looked at him with a smirk. “Do you feel like death is beneath you, Boy?" I stepped over to the balcony and dangled the wolf pup over the edge. It was only one floor up, but it was still a drop.

The Boy squirmed, trying to free himself and reach his feet out to grab onto the bannister, as if he could catch himself with his toes. I lifted him higher and shook. It took only three good shakes for that rag of a shirt to rip and tear. The pup would then tumble out of it, and this Humpty Dumpty could never be put together ever again.

I watched with glee as the pup fell for a split second, grabbing him by his ankle and having him turn head over heels, lifting him up so we could watch each other in the eyes.

“Mr. Perry," I said loudly, never taking my eyes off the boy in my hand. “I believe our meeting is concluded. If you want more information on your brothers, I suggest you stop getting in my way and resume our partnership as it has always been."

Then I said in a quieter tone, “As for you, Boy, I believe the Dragon will be looking for you shortly." I shook the boy again, bouncing him in the air like he was nothing. The ragged pants ripped and the boy, naked as the day he was born, tumbled out. I did not catch him.

I laughed when I heard a yelp as the runt hit the ground. I threw the ragged pants aside and turned back toward Tristan. Putting my hat back on, I bowed politely.

“Good day to you, Mr. Perry."