Chapter 3

Carver

It was easy to see when one left Balkanville and entered the rest of Rotterdam. Suddenly, rather than minding their own business, everyone glared at you, trying to see if you were Slavic. And if you were, evaluating if you were a problem. Some loitering teenagers laughingly flashed a UV-flashlight at Carver, a toy that wouldn't even impact any but the weakest vampires. He resisted the urge to flash one back, one powerful enough to blind them. Too many angry parents around to teach the youths an important lesson.

Still, eventually he meandered his way to a place where most people didn't glare at him. It had been a decent detour, making sure to shake any tails her might have had, that led him to a small diner looking out at the river. They were used to Slavic customers here, so his presence shouldn't have caused much suspicion as he sat down in a booth.

He noticed a few folks looking his way, a loud commercial on the radio preventing him from overhearing what they were saying. Didn't matter, he recognised their faces. Sure enough, one secretly tapped away on his phone. Carver ignored them and ordered. "An espresso, please, and I'll take a trial platter of pie slices, but only after I finish my drink." A nod and off the guy went to get him his drink.

It was about eight minutes later that several bikes breaked hard outside. In came several people, two men, two women, panting from the rush. They looked around and the men from before pointed at Carver.

One of them, a woman in a suit who looked rather stressed, walked over. "Carver, right?"

He shook his head as he finished his drink. "Correct. Have a seat, inspector."

Katya

She glared at the man. "You know me?" Her clothing was formal, but didn't betray her rank, though that didn't stop her from doublechecking if she had accidentally kept a nametag on.

A shrug. "I know of you. I recognise most of you, actually. Didn't expect you to bring a member of the OM, but the rest was within my expectations. Have a seat, everyone."

It was annoying how calm he was. Reluctantly she sat down across him, joined by the others. Sem next to Carver, Anne next to Katya, while the other officer walked over and joined his coworkers that had meant to enjoy their lunch before their shift started. She should remind them later to retroactively clock in.

The server came over and put down a big plate with half a dozen different slices of pie. Ignoring the tense atmosphere, he smiled at them. "Anything you'd like to drink?"

Carver gave the man a warm smile, it annoyed Katya but also felt familiar somehow. "Two bottles of water please, one flat, one with bubbles. And can you give the other table the same, as well as the same platter? I'll pay in advance." He held out a couple of bills, which the server took with a smile before walking away without a care in the world.

Carver turned his attention back at them. "I didn't know what you'd like, so just take whatever and I'll enjoy the leftovers." The warm smile on his face really felt familiar, but this time it didn't quite reach his eyes. "And this way, you wouldn't worry about being drugged."

Sem grumbled as he reached for the apple pie. "I'm not sure if we're supposed to accept this, but I'm in dire need of some sugar so consider yourself lucky."

Anne glared at the man, even grumpier than Katya felt inside. "Did you really come here just to buy us pie?" Didn't stop her from taking the carrot cake, while Katya grabbed the rhubarb.

"No, I came here because I love their pies. And because if you lot start following me all day, it intervenes with my resupplies. So I figured I'd hear you out first." True to his word, he took one of the leftover slices and nibbled from it. His refusal to say more was frustrating, forcing them to take the initiative.

Katya released an exasperated sigh. "You're even more annoying than trying to figure out your name." Which had proven incredibly frustrating and utterly futile. "Very well, let's get down to business. The Deacon is lying to you. We don't have your goods. We only have his weapons." He didn't even look surprised. Maybe her own info-sec wasn't that great either.

Ignoring her frustration, she continued. "Which means two things. One, he is deliberately shorting your stock. And two, he's gearing up for war. These things might be correlated, they might not be. But we want to prevent a war, as do you. That's why we wanted to force you to work with us, to help keep the city safe. And? That's why you're here, right?"

Carver

She was close yet far away. Carver smiled at that, then held in his grin as he saw her frown at him. Ah, she still had her temper. It was a pleasure to behold.

Before she made an angry comment, he ended his silence. "Something like that, yes. I don't care about the city, but I do care about the people of Balkanville. That's why I sell them protection mechanisms. And anyone interfering with this, is essentially trying to piss me off."

Anne nodded at that. "So you're indeed mad at the Deacon for stealing your weapons."

He looked at her, studying her long enough to be impolite. There was something going on with her. "I never said anything about weapons. But given how exhausted you look, I can understand how you'd make such a mistake. Truth be told, you look like shit."

She bristled at that remark, as did the others. Irrelevant. "I have alternative means to get my supplies, but that doesn't mean I go unharmed by the Reverend's machinations. So as long as the Reverend tries to manipulate me, I'm willing to provide you with intel."

He poured himself a glass of water as he gave them time to think that through. One by one they were realising what he kept unsaid. A deal limited in both range and time.

Katya chimed in, her voice calm and measured. "If we're going to do business with you, I need a better name than Carver to call you by."

He shrugged. Normally, one would say poetic stuff like 'I have no name I can give you'. But that way lied stories. "You'll have make due with the handle." Now they all eyed him with suspicion again. He saw Katya make a quiet gesture towards officer Sem, who brought out a piece of cold iron. Really. They were that naive? Or just paranoid.

He laughed at them as he held the material with his bare hands. "Really? The man supplying tools against the fairies, secretly is one of the things he's helping destroy? Would make for a great plot twist, but you know better than that, Ekaterina."

He saw the confusion in her eyes as she frowned. "So I do know you. From my youth, perhaps?" Ah, she had it. "You sold your name then. Must be a hell of a deal, if you go nameless." Oh, she caught on quick. Good. She'd need her wits in the days to come.

He rose to his feet. "I'll be in touch later. Please still set up your surveillance. I just ask for the occasional privacy." A few seconds of hesitation from the women, then one nodded yes and the other shook yes. Perfect.

He left with a grin wanting to rise to the surface. Ah, this must be how Fae felt when their story flowed right. No wonder then, how addicted they got to manipulation. For a second, he almost understood them. Then he shoved that all away. One shouldn't try to fully understand those things. It would only leave you vulnerable.