Page 41 of Throwing Fire

I lean forward in my chair and flick my fingers at her.

“You asked me if I planned to continue Father’s cloning activities.”

“You said no.” I give her a smile. “No means no.”

“Will there be any consequences if I do not continue ... any of Father’s activities?”

I take a moment to parse through her question. “There are always consequences,” I say slowly. “But not from Kez or me, or anyone who works for us. You owe us nothin’.”

Payton bows her head. “I owe Tyng Enterprises everything. My very existence.”

“We ain’t runnin’ a slave ring.” A Hex ring, sure. But slavery’s where I draw the line. “Maybe Tyng paid to have you made, but that don’t mean you owe the company your life. You’re an employee. You wanna quit, that’s your choice.”

“You’re giving me that choice?” Payton asks slowly.

“Yeah,” I say, just as Kez says, “Always.”

I catch Kez’s eyes. Let her see how proud I am of her. My kitten.

Payton lifts her head. Her features are composed, but her eyes are over-bright. “It is the first ... true choice ... I have had.”

I nod in acknowledgement. “Where’s Jaxon gonna be, and when?”

“Here. Four days from now. At sixteen-hundred standard. Before he died, Father arranged for something to be delivered to Mister Mereia here.” She holds up her hand. “Before you ask, I don’t know exactly what it is. But if I had to guess, I would think it’s the first shipment bound for the Eastern Colony. A sweetener, Father called it. I cannot think of what else that could be.”

Kez and I shake our heads almost in unison.

“There’s no shipment headed for the E.C. No increase in production. I’d know,” I say. Because I’ve made it my business to know about every flake that’s produced and where it’s headed.

“I don’t doubt you, Mister Snow.”

I sit back with a grunt. “Your Father, he didn’t have any secret flake labs, did he?”

“No. All product we received was made in thetriangle.”

She’s referring to the three Hex labs in Hemos, Zhonnys, and Roysten, which do form a rough triangle and are referred to that way by the Tyngalings. “You sure? Looked like he had a pretty big set-up downstairs.”

“Very sure,” Payton says. “Father kept many secrets, but I dealt with all of our financial affairs. A production lab would have costs. Outgoings. He couldn’t have kept it a secret from me.”

More financial analyses. I can see why Payton and Myhre don’t get along. They’re too much alike.

Kez replaces her teacup. “Is there anything you need?” she asks Payton.

Payton gives her a small smile. A real smile. Maybe the first real one she’s given us. “No, but thank you for asking.”

Guess that’s our cue. I stand and hold my hand out to Payton. “You want out, you’re out. But don’t feel like we’re kickin’ you out. If you want to stay, we’ll make a place for you.” I’m not going to push her to stay, but losing the smarts that made her Father Number Two in the Old Man’s empire feels like a waste. “You never have to touch a single flake, if you don’t want to. Things are changing.”

She stands, smoothes her skirt, and shakes my hand. “I can see that. Thank you, Mister Snow.”

When Kez holds her hand out, Payton shakes it and holds it. “Miz Kerryon, may I say something?”

Kez tilts her head, but doesn’t say no, and doesn’t withdraw her hand.

“You seem a decent person. I know nothing of this bounty, or where it comes from. But I can say that Mister Mereia hates you. Trulyhatesyou. It was the only real emotion I ever saw him display. If he can see you dead, he will. No matter what the cost.”

Kez pales, going so white she looks blue. Her eyelids flutter. She’s gonna faint.

I round the table in one long stride and put my arm around her. “I got you,” I whisper into her hair.