Chapter 17 | The Devil of Siren City

Adrian

When I returned to take back my city, I wasn’t foolish enough to think I could do it alone.

A man — a leader — needs to surround himself with people he can trust. That list is quite shorter nowadays, given the few who had the decency to cross themselves off the last time I was in Siren City. I knew just where to start rebuilding my team.

Finding Candy again was easy. It’s simple enough to get him alone. If you know the right channels. And I knew the moment he looked at me for the first time again that I could trust him now. In that moment, for one tender second, he became that lost child I took under my wing all those years ago. I would happily do so again.

Finding a nurse was much easier than expected. Money is often more than enough to buy a person’s trust, but I had to find someone new. Someone untainted by the allure of Olympus. And qualified. I thought it’d be a far more difficult task, but then Skylar... fell into my lap. Fate. Kismet. I won’t complain about that. Nor will I celebrate. Not until she’s answered a few more questions.

Finding Miller wasn’t difficult, either. Getting to him, however, is a different story.

“He’s in Olympus,” Candy told me the night I told him my plan. “After the coup, well...” He released a heavy sigh, his gaze piercing the wall toward The Tower. Toward our former home. “He retired. He didn’t want to work for them, but he could easily afford the rent spikes. Thanks to you.”

I paid my men well. Especially men like Miller.

Men willing to get their hands dirty. For a price.

Miller was an experienced assassin long before he joined my payroll. He, much like Skylar, fell into my lap one day. In the early days of one’s rise to power, one makes many enemies. Some of them have pockets deep enough to hire the best assassins in the world to pick you off, but after you send four different Snake Eyes agents home in body bags, the fifth one isn’t exactly eager to be there.

And Miller wasn’t willing to die for the cause.

He knocked on my door the same way I’m knocking on his today. He told me who he was and why he was there with seven pistols trained on his head.

“Pay me double what they’re paying, and I’ll ensure another snake never sets foot in this city ever again.”

I tripled it. Miller kept his word. And Siren City’s snake problems officially came to an end.

Shortly after, I promoted him to my personal bodyguard, and that’s where he stayed until that night nine months ago. Do I think he was involved with what happened? No, but I prepare myself for anything in the seconds before I roll my fist and knock twice on his door.

He used to live in The Tower with us. Now, he lives on the fifteenth floor of a nice apartment building near the bridge on the south side of Olympus. It’s as secure as a residential building can be. I easily slipped inside as another resident was leaving, her head swiveling to side-eye my stench as I passed.

The peephole dims.

“No solicitors,” Miller barks through the door. “Fuck off!”

I smirk, my face obscured in the shadows of my hood. I knock again, this time hitting three different spots on the door. Top. Bottom. Middle. Two taps each. Then one more on top.

Dead silence follows.

Slowly, the deadbolt slides free. He opens the door. I look up into the wide eyes of an old friend who just saw a ghost.

“Hello, Miller,” I say.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple lurching in his wide neck. I’d almost forgotten the way he towers over me. A tall, muscled tree of a man, as Candy described him in his story last night. But he has changed, though. He wears baggy black slacks and a white tank top that’s seen better days, the top of his cobra tattoo visible over the stretched neckline. His brown hair is overgrown. His chin caked in week-old stubble. Not exactly the man of luxury he once was. But neither am I.

“Jesus,” Miller whispers. “So, the rumors are true.”

He takes a step back and holds the door for me. I accept the invitation and walk inside, quickly clearing the doorway so he can close it behind me. He secures it with two locks and a deadbolt while I scan my new surroundings. It’s a small apartment; a one-bedroom based on first glance. More than enough for one man.

“Depends on what you’ve heard,” I say, lowering my hood.

“Dead man walking through Old Town,” he says, his eyes still wide with surprise. “Thought it was superstitious bullshit, though.”

“What do you think now?”

“Now?” Miller chuckles as he slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Now, I think I need to up my meds.”

I smile. “You look good, Miller. Thinner, but good.”

“Yeah. And you smell like shit.” He sniffs the air. “The sewer paths still open? I thought they blocked those off.”

“I’m sure they thought so, too.”

He hums, amused. “Well, try not to touch anything. Cleaning lady just came through yesterday.”

I keep my hands in my hoodie’s pouch, allowing for my switchblade to fit snug in one palm. “Seems like you’ve done well for yourself,” I say.

“Well enough considering...” He shrugs on his way toward his kitchenette. “You want a drink?”

“No, thanks.”

He opens the refrigerator anyway and grabs the whiskey bottle from the door. “More for me.” He twists the cap off and takes a swig straight from the bottle, grimacing as it burns. “So, you’re alive,” he says, his eyes on the bottle.

“I’m alive,” I say.

“How’d you manage that?”

“I can’t say.”

I really can’t.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “If I knew the secret to cheating death, I’d keep my mouth shut, too,” he jokes.

I don’t reply.

“What’s your plan?” he asks.

“My plan?”

“You’ve always got one.” He nudges the refrigerator closed, but keeps the bottle. “You gonna try to take it all back?”

“Yes,” I answer.

He breathes another dry laugh. “Stupid.”

“What they took doesn’t belong to them.”

“It didn’t always belong to you, either,” he says with the shake of his head. “That’s how this city works.”

“I’m taking back what’s mine,” I say. “Can I count on you or not, Miller?”

He pauses, his breath held tight. “Ask.”

“Will you join me?” I ask.

“No. Ask me what you really came here to ask me,” he says, his head tilting. “Did I know what they were going to do to you and Dominic that night?”

I don’t move. “Did you?”

Miller doesn’t, either. “Yes.”

My chest tightens with a sudden pulse of pain that fades just as quickly. “Really?”

“Of course I did,” he says with a shrug.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. “We could have stopped it.”

“Come on.” Miller laughs as he takes another sip from the bottle. “You already know why.”

“They paid you off,” I say, the answer more than obvious.

He turns up his hands. “It’s the only language I speak, boss.”

I’m not that surprised, honestly. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. He cheated on the last guy to be with me. Can’t fault a leopard for not changing their spots.

Still sucks to hear.

“I thought we went deeper than that,” I say.

Miller finishes the bottle, but doesn’t put it down. “Well, I guess you won’t make that mistake again, will you?” he says.

“No,” I say, tightening my grip on my switchblade. “I won’t.”