Page 36 of Play Dirty
They raced toward it and nearly tore the door from its rusty hinges getting inside. Madigan lifted the phone to his ear again as he scanned the interior—empty aside from what looked like a few old gauges and pipes, none of which seemed to be in use in any meaningful way. “Now fucking what? There’s nothing in here.”
“Look down.”
Madigan looked down. “Fuck me.”
“Aww, c’mon,” Cas crooned. “It’s probably been a while since you’ve said hello to your rat brethren. Get down there and head west. You’ll be walking a mile and a half. Keep track of the mileage on your phone and at the mark, you’ll see your exit. It’ll dump you out in an alleyway behind a bunch of restaurants.”
Az dropped to a crouch and began working the manhole cover open.
God, Madigan would owe Jonah and Cas until the end of time. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for Az’s phone in the first place. They’d probably be in the midst of a shoot-out right now. Madigan could’ve lived with that. Or died, as it were. Jonah always wanted to go out quietly with a tap to the back of the head while he was unaware, but Madigan preferred a hail of bullets. He wondered what sort of thoughts Az had given to his own demise, if any. It wouldn’t surprise him if the arrogant asshole said he hadn’t given any thought to it because he was invincible.
“We’re going to need a safe place to stay,” Madigan added, his eyes glued to the curve of Az’s spine and the flex of muscle in his shoulder as he shoved the manhole cover to one side.
“I can help with that, too,” Cas chirped with far too much unwarranted cheer. “You know, Christmas is coming up, and I’ve gotten kinda into diamonds lately.Bigones.” Cas laughed as Madigan growled. “I’ll text you a safe house address when I locate one.” He ended the call by making a noisy smacking sound with his lips that Madigan guessed was supposed to be a kiss.
Handing Az his phone back, he explained Cas’s instructions, and they dropped down into the sewage tunnel.
Az flipped on his phone’s flashlight, and Madigan allowed himself one second to lean back against the ladder they’d just descended and catch his breath. He looked Az over, searching out any hint of injury from what little he could see in the darkness.
“You hurt anywhere?” Az beat Madigan to the question, stepping forward but halting when Madigan warded him off by lifting a hand.
“I’m fine. You?” Madigan wished he didn’t care. Wished the idea of Az being injured didn’t send a sobering pang through him.
“I’m alright.” Az inclined his chin, and they started walking. “Your queen must be quite brilliant.”
Madigan begrudgingly suspected the same, but he was curious. “What makes you think that?”
“Think about it.” Az nimbly skirted a broken chunk of concrete. “You said he had no overhead view. He was just looking at the camera feeds. So, the entire time he was telling us where to go, he was having to keep that whole system organized in his head, then visually translate it and orient within it in order to tell us what to do. I’ve known military operatives who wouldn’t be able to do that.”
“Shit, you’re right.” Madigan hadn’t considered it like that. He bit out another curse, kicked something wiggly from the toe of his shoe, and wondered if Cas would settle for pavé diamonds.
Probably not.
15
Azrael
Madi’s Queen was clearly worth whatever Madi paid them. They had an address within twenty minutes of finding their way out of the sewers, but it was a good half hour away by car. Az memorized the address before smashing the phone beneath his heel. He had no idea where they were, but he could still smell the brine clinging to the frigid sea air, so it wasn’t far enough from the shipping yard for Az’s comfort level.
The wind had teeth, biting through the damp, filthy fabric of their clothes as they dipped through back allies and main roads, neither speaking as Az’s clothes stiffened and his face grew numb from the cold. They needed a vehicle, but flagging down a cab was unlikely. They were filthy, covered in slime and refuse. More than a few people hurried past, huddling in on themselves, visibly recoiling at the sight of Az and Madi, likely questioning the sanity of two dirty people who didn’t have the sense to wear a jacket in November.
They walked for a good thirty minutes before Az felt comfortable saying Bennington’s men weren’t following. When they passed a packed public parking lot with a young guy manning the little shack, Az slapped Madi’s shoulder and nodded toward the booth where the kid was watching a movie on his computer. “We need a car. I’m freezing.”
Madi shook his head. “Not from that lot. There’s only one entrance and exit, and they’ll spike the tires if we try to leave without paying.”
Az grimaced. Madi was right, but that didn’t mean Az would say so. “We can’t walk thirteen miles like this. It will take hours, and I have sludge in my underwear, and, quite frankly, my balls are starting to chafe.”
Madi scoffed, abruptly crossing the street and leaving Az to follow or get left behind. “You’re breaking my heart. Maybe if you hadn’t kidnapped me, I’d have more empathy for your chafing balls. Actually, if you hadn’t kidnapped me, I imagine your balls would be having the time of their lives right now. Instead, the thought of your chafing balls is giving me the only shred of pleasure I’ve felt since I woke to find myself chained to a wall.”
Az snorted, going around to the passenger side of a car parked alongside a meter and trying the handle. Locked. “I know you’re angry, Madigan. But, you have to admit, this is as much your fault as it is mine.”
Madi stopped to gape at him, his hand on the driver’s side door of a Yaris. “What?”
Az tried the passenger door and shook his head, moving to the third car in the row—an old wood paneled station wagon filled to the roof with trash bags. They both skipped it, moving on. “Okay, so I will admit I am more at fault than you, but if you would just learn to trust me when I say I have a plan, I wouldn’t need to keep you in the dark.”
Madi’s nostrils flared, his breath puffing in the cold like an angry dragon. “I’m sorry, but the first time I trusted you, I was ambushed, and the second time I trusted you, you jabbed a needle in my arm. Every time I trust you, I end up with somebody trying to kill me.”
This wasn’t how Az saw his apology going, but the more incensed Madi became, the more turned on Az grew. It was impossible not to push his buttons a little when so few things made Madi look so…alive. Az gave him a patronizing look. “You are being dramatic,motek. In fact, I would venture to say that most people who have met you have considered killing you. Tell the truth, other than me, can you think of a single other person who doesn’t find you infuriating?” Madi’s resulting stare lasted for so long and was so unrelenting Azrael finally asked, “What are you doing?”