Everwild (Skinjacker 2)

Don't be sad, Allie.

And so, for Danny's sake, she tried not to be.

Chapter 30 A Place on the Mantel

Five hundred miles northeast of Memphis, another skinjacker paced in the Hindenburg's Starboard Promenade.

"Patience, Milos," Mary said. "Patience is what we need right now."

"But why must I spend my days running petty skinjacking errands for Pugsy Capone? That is work for Moose and Squirrel, not for me!"

Mary took his hand. "You're doing it as a favor for me."

"Yes, but there is so much more I could do for you, if you let me! Please! Give me a task--something you think is impossible, and I will do it. I wish to show you how useful I can be for you." More than useful, Milos knew he needed to be indispensable--otherwise how would she ever see him as an equal?

"By serving, and keeping an eye on Pugsy, it frees Jill to catch crossing souls. She's bringing in two and three a day, thanks to you!"

"I could bring you more! And I do not need an amulet to do it!" Milos held her gaze for a moment, then paced away, realizing he had just opened a can of ants. Or was it worms? He could never get these English expressions correct.

"Is that so?" said Mary, slowly sauntering up to him. "And how might you accomplish that?"

He was so tempted to tell Mary the truth--he owed no loyalty to Jill after what she had done to him. He could tell Mary that Jill wasn't just catching souls as they crossed-- no, her role was much more active than that--much more "hands-on." He wondered how Jill did the deed. Did she use a weapon, or did she do it with her fleshie's bare hands? The more Milos thought about it, the less he wanted to know.

"How would you save the children with no amulet to guide you?" Mary pressed. "Tell me, I'd like to know."

If he told Mary, he suspected it wouldn't just turn her against Jill--it would poison her against all skinjackers. If he brought down Jill, he'd bring down himself as well. It wasn't for Jill's sake that he kept her secret.

"Never mind," said Milos, deflating. "But I do wish you would let me do something special for you. Something that might truly earn your trust."

"I trust everyone until I'm given a reason not to," Mary told him, which was nice in theory, but ridiculous in practice-- so Milos gave her a teasing grin.

"And how many reasons do I give you so far?"

Mary tried to suppress a smile, but failed miserably. "I've lost count."

"Well," said Milos, "maybe I am after something more than trust." He let the thought linger for a moment, then gave a slight, but courteous bow. "Now if you will excuse me, I have to get Pugsy some sports scores." He turned to go, but Mary wasn't quite done with him yet.

"You asked for an impossible task," she said. "Perhaps I can give you one."

Milos turned back to her, watching as she strode across the Promenade, peering down out of the angled windows, looking at the Afterlights in the court of honor. The children here now played games. The same games, day after day after day. "Things have certainly gotten better here since my arrival," she told Milos, "but Pugsy is really more of a hindrance than a help, don't you agree?"

Milos, who had no love of the Death Boss, said, "Of course I do."

"Well then, I want you to ... talk ... to Pugsy. I want you to persuade him to leave Chicago. Forever."

"I do not think this is possible," Milos told her. "He will never leave Chicago of his own free will."

Mary shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "Well, you said you wanted an impossible task; there it is."

Milos considered it. "Persuade him, you say ..."

"I'm certainly not suggesting anything unseemly... ."

"Of course not. You would never do such a thing." Milos came to the window beside her, "And if I succeed?"

"If you succeed," said Mary, "and Pugsy ceases to be a problem, you'll have better things to do than fetch his sports scores." Then she smiled. It wasn't her usual warm, welcoming smile. This time it seemed steeped in intrigue and design. "Tell me, have you ever been to the West, Milos?"

"No," he answered. "I have heard stories of skinjackers who jacked their way across the Mississippi, but they never returned. Are you planning an expedition?"