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Chapter four

No One is Your Friend

The nearer they drew to Lady Death’s compound, the more antsy Niko grew. None of this had gone how he’d hoped, but the two of them were still alive and about to finally have an audience with her. That was what mattered now.

But there were some things Elliott still needed to know.

“Elliott,” Niko murmured. The guards could probably overhear everything he was about to say, regardless. Especially the Dvaab ones, whose hearing was exceptional. “I need you to keep your mouth closed once we’re in here. I mean it, this time. Let me do the talking.”

“Fine.”

“There’s another thing, too. Just— Be respectful when you’re in there. To Lady Death. To her wives. She has two, and you need to know about them both. One’s a Quwa-quay woman named Yalsa—”

“Quwa—”

“I know that Quwa-quay are typically bi-gendered,” Niko hissed, glancing around at the guards and Death nervously. “But Yalsa is a woman. And if you want to suggest otherwise, you’re going to eat a bullet of your own, courtesy of Lady D. Do not fuck around with any of this.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest otherwise.”

“Good.”

“You have a lot of homicidal friends, don’t you?” Elliott, the galaxy’s most wanted assassin, whispered.

“Yeah, I do.” Niko reached over and pinched the other man’s ear the way his own mother used to do when he, Zann, or Ryen had been being assholes.

He couldn’t help himself, despite the gravity of everything they’d just endured and all that lay ahead of them still.

Elliott shrunk away, as far as the tight ring of their armed escort would allow, though Niko caught the faint ghost of a grin on his face.

“There’s also Sweetheart,” Niko continued.

“Everyone has a weird name here, don’t they? I’m reconsidering ‘the Dickfister.’”

“You’d fit in more than you know. Anyway, she’s a Xermotl and has been here as long as I can remember. You need to treat her with the utmost respect or—”

“Let me guess. I get my own special bullet for dessert.”

“You’re catching on. Call her ma’am or miss, defer to her. Treat her like she’s a goddess. It’s—it’s a whole thing. Lady Death does not tolerate rudeness to Sweetheart. Probably above anything else in the galaxy.”

“I can’t wait.”

They were nearing the compound now, a big, multi-tiered concrete structure that featured hardy, bulletproof windows with steel bars welded to them and thick blackout curtains blocking the view in or out.

It was just like Niko remembered. That he’d ever even briefly believed Aleksi when he’d said she’d moved left Niko ashamed.

Death would never hide away in fear. But time did weird things to people, he knew.

It had made the underworld’s most trusted provider of safe shelter and secret keeping betray him for credits.

“Nice place,” Elliott whispered. “The iron bars are a delicate touch.”

“ Elliott ,” Niko muttered.

Their group entered through thick, guarded double doors. The entryway guards nodded to Death and eyed Niko and Elliott closely, but professionally tamped down on any surprise they may have felt, maintaining stoic poker faces.

High ceilings with simple and sturdy but mildly artful chandeliers hung above them all, casting a warm, dim glow.

Each chandelier differed from the next, giving a quirky and eclectic vibe.

A few tall, exotic potted plants from alien worlds were scattered about, shoved into various corners.

Patterned rugs laid out a path before them, with framed artworks and paintings from some of the most renowned artists the galaxy had ever known—alive and dead—adorning the walls.

Each painting was probably worth as much as Niko had ever earned in his lifetime.

Velvety curtains were drawn closed over the windows, giving a sense of enclosure and privacy.

This place was every bit the den he remembered it being.

Niko just hoped he could come to feel as welcome in its walls as he had always been before.

He unwound the scarf from his face, feeling like he could finally breathe again.

The compound interior was bustling with people who worked for and were loyal to Death.

As Aleksi had unfortunately shown, she didn’t tolerate disloyalty.

They paused in their various activities and conversations to blankly stare at Elliott. Niko glanced around uneasily from one person to the next, suddenly wondering all over again if he’d made the right choice by ever coming here. And especially by bringing Elliott with him.

A spindly, lavender Xermotl began making her way toward their group.

Anyone in her direct path immediately moved themselves out of her way without hesitation.

Her movements were elegant, dainty, careful even.

Sweetheart had always reminded Niko of a ballet dancer.

Her translator chip was affixed around her neck to a pink leather collar which had a heart and bow on it.

The voice that emerged from the chip was soft, feminine, high in pitch. It fit her perfectly.

“Welcome back, Mistress.” She extended a spade-shaped, delicate hand to Lady Death, who paused to kiss it.

“Mistress? Kinky ,” Elliott whispered.

“Do. Not,” Niko warned him.

Even the guards surrounding them nodded their respects to Sweetheart. They murmured polite greetings.

Sweetheart turned to peer at Niko, her patterns glowing brightly in a golden sunset orange of excitement the moment she recognized him. Her four large, glossy eyes blinked as though doubting what stood before her. “Killjoy? Is that really you?”

“Sweetheart, ma’am,” Niko said, bowing his head demurely. He felt Elliott’s fascinated gaze on him. “It’s good to see you again. You’re as lovely as ever. Maybe even more so. It’s… been a while, huh?”

Sweetheart’s patterns shifted to a gentle pink which signaled the Xermotl form of a smile. “You’re too kind, Niko. May I call you Niko, still? I’m sorry if it’s awkward now—”

“It’s not awkward, ma’am. We’re friends, right?”

She clasped her hands together. “It’s delightful to see you again after so many years, dear friend.

You look very well, Niko. Everyone is going to be so excited to talk to you again.

” She said it in the way only rare, truly benevolent souls did—with sincerity and care, rather than empty platitudes.

Being near her, despite everything, put Niko a little more at ease.

“I do hope that life has been kind to you during your absence.”

Not really , Niko thought, his mood souring again slightly. Between his fall and injury, the years of pitch-dark depression that followed, and the galaxy wanting him dead now, life had mostly been particularly unkind.

With a few exceptions.

He glanced at Elliott, then smiled. “I can’t complain. Things are pretty good lately. I hope you’ve been doing well, too.” Elliott’s green gaze held its own quiet smile before Niko looked back to Sweetheart again.

She squinted two pairs of eyes happily at him. Then she turned her quizzical gaze to Elliott and Niko felt himself tense.

Don’t say something weird to her , he begged. Please .

He was definitely going to say something weird to her.

“How astonishing,” Sweetheart marveled, touching absentmindedly at her collar. “I recognize your face from the news. Everyone talks about you, all the time. Elliott Kestrel, if I’m correct?”

“You’re correct, ma’am,” said Elliott, putting on the smoothest smile Niko had ever seen from him.

He was so handsome, even Niko found himself getting distracted from his thoughts.

Or any thought at all. “I’m flattered that you recognize me.

Niko’s told me a lot about you and it’s all been heaps of praise.

He certainly wasn’t lying, it seems. It’s truly my pleasure to finally get to meet you. ”

Niko appreciated the merciful lie thrown his way. He’d neglected to say a thing about Sweetheart before today.

Sweetheart’s patterns turned a deep chartreuse—which had taken Niko years to learn was Xermotl code for blushing—at Elliott’s compliments in a way she never had with Niko.

It was all he could do to keep himself from rolling his eyes.

It seemed even the married alien woman wasn’t immune to Elliott’s handsome face as he put on the charm.

Elliott looked every bit right then a golden-haired playboy and not a habitual murderer of planetary leaders.

“I don’t wish to offend, Mr. Kestrel—”

“Please, ma’am. Elliott’s fine, I insist.”

Sweetheart blushed again before continuing. “But if I may, I’m quite curious what business you have here visiting our home? Especially someone with such… renown as yourself.” She said it like she was meeting a favored celebrity.

In the end, Niko figured it was better to have someone fawning over him like this than the quiet, keen-eyed murmurings coming from everyone else around them.

Lady Death cut in and answered before Elliott could. “We’ll talk about that later, Sweetheart. For now, I want you all in the conference room.”

Death walked on ahead and Niko’s armed party followed. The guards had their guns lowered now, but still kept them out. Sweetheart gave Elliott an elegant wave, squinting happily, and Elliott waved back at her.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Elliott,” she said. “Be well.”

“Likewise, miss.”

They entered the conference room, another large, thickly-walled chamber with the curtains drawn closed and dim, warm lighting hanging from above.

Niko remembered this room. It was, more or less, the same, with a few small changes.

Some of the more beat up chairs had been replaced, and the plain table from years before was now upgraded to one with a delicately artful cherry blossom branch design hand-carved across its surface, carefully engraved with gold inlay.

The center of each flower had a sizable diamond, all trapped under layers of smooth, transparent resin.