"I really have missed you, Milos. How've you been?"
"Oh, Moose, Squirrel, and I have had some fine adventures, but now we're here. We must spend some time catching up."
Jill glanced to Mary. If she picked up the tension between Jill and Milos, she didn't care. Or perhaps the tension suited her needs.
"Now, then," said Mary, "I've been bringing Milos up to speed on your amulet, and how you've been using it to rescue children from the light. We now have four skinjackers instead of just one--isn't that splendid? It's been amazing all the things you've been able to accomplish all by yourself, Jill--think of how much more effective you'll be as a team!"
"I can only imagine," said Milos.
If Jill had a stomach, she would have been sick to it.
For Milos, finding Jackin' Jill was nothing compared to finding Mary Hightower. The fact that Jill was unable to ruin things for him was a good sign, and boded well for his future. If success was the best revenge, then his success with Mary would be sweet indeed--and a very bitter pill for Jackin' Jill, who had used him and discarded him.
Moose and Squirrel were still off paying tribute to Pugsy Capone, giving Milos time to follow Jill to the incubator, once his first audience with Mary was done. "I wanted to see your new scam with my own eyes," he told her the moment he knew they were alone. He looked out over the sleeping Interlights. "You've been busy."
"This is no scam," said Jill, practically spewing venom. "And whatever you think you're doing here, it's not going to happen. You'd better leave now if you know what's good for you."
Milos was not troubled in the least. Her threat was empty. He sauntered closer to her, then suddenly thrust his hand forward, grabbing the amulet, pulling it toward him. The chain didn't break, and instead it pulled Jill right to him, by the neck.
"Let go of me!" demanded Jill.
"I remember when I gave you this necklace," he said. "I traded a whole box of Twinkies for it. Do you know what those Twinkies were worth?"
"I said let go!"
This time Milos did, and Jill took a healthy step back from him.
"Does Mary know that your 'magical amulet' is nothing more than blue glass on a fake gold chain?"
Now Jill began to look scared. "Are you going to tell her?"
Milos chose to ignore the question. "What I want to know is how you do it. You obviously cannot see the future, so then how do you know when these deadly accidents will occur?"
Jill looked at him with fuming hatred. "Figure it out for yourself."
"Oh," said Milos, "but I already have."
The hatred in Jill's eyes peaked into desperation, and finally faded to defeat. "What do you want, Milos?"
Good, thought Milos. Now for the bargain. Few things were more rewarding than blackmailing a criminal. "I will keep your secret," Milos told her, "and in return, you will step back, and allow me to take first position among Mary's skinjackers."
"Mary chooses who she puts in charge."
"Mary will choose me," Milos said with confidence. "And when she does, you will support it, and accept my leadership." Then he smiled. "Just like old times."
"And if I don't?"
"Then I will tell Mary exactly how you find all these 'new arrivals.'"
Jill looked away, her lips pursing into an angry slit. "Fine. But don't expect me to follow your orders," she said, but Milos knew she would.
Milos left Jill to stew in her own afterglow, returning immediately to Mary, who wanted to brief him on the state of affairs in Chicago. At first she was guarded, but Milos could sense she needed someone to talk to--a new and sympathetic ear. And so he listened, and found everything she had to say fascinating. Perhaps she sensed that, because soon she opened up, sharing things beyond her dealings in Chicago. As stiff as she was, she seemed to relax just the slightest bit.
"It's good to have someone to talk to about these things," she said. "Someone with whom I can see eye to eye."
Milos looked around the Promenade. It said so much about Mary. It was pristine, and spotless. It was full of works of art and furniture that were clearly added by her. The place was as elegant and evolved as Mary herself. There was also a sizeable collection of books in the Promenade. Not just the ones Mary had written, but dozens of others that Mary had acquired. One of those books was out, and sitting on Mary's chair. Milos picked it up, curious. It featured a picture of a suspension bridge under construction. The title was A History of Civil Engineering. "A hobby of yours?" he asked.
;I want it before sunset," Pugsy demanded. "Or else!"