"I reckon Mac's always planned this as an escape route, and not just from us." More of Xander’s figure disappears through the window as he surveys the area. "There's a skip close enough to jump onto."
I join him at the window. The back entrance to the club is below us, and there's no sight or sound of anybody in the dirty alleyway between this building and those opposite. In the daylight, the guy won't be able to hide long.
"You think he just left?" I ask.
"I wanna know who told him we were here!" Xander climbs from the window, boots thudding as he lands on the roof below. "He won't be far."
I watch as Xander effortlessly climbs down, jumping from roof, to skip, to the ground, and I sigh before following. When I land, I trip and almost end up in a soggy cardboard box. The stench of rotting food turns my stomach, and I cover my nose with a sleeve.
One end of the alleyway stops at a brick-walled dead end; the other leads out onto a main street. Voices and the clatter of pans and utensils sound from the open door at a nearby cafe's kitchen. Xander points. "You check in there. I'll search around. We would've seen Mac if he ran the other way. He didn't get much of a head start."
I unsheathe the knife inside my jacket and stride into the hot kitchen and a tempting aroma of Thai spices mixed in the steam. A stout man in a chef's white clothes halts in his work and stares at me.
"Did a guy walk in here?" I ask.
The other man pauses from chopping vegetables and vigorously shakes his head as he eyes my weapon, gripping his knife too. "No, sir."
"Are you sure?" I point the knife in his direction. "You'd better not be lying."
He backs up, fear filling his features and the knife shaking in his hands. I take a quick scout around the small kitchen, but there's nowhere large enough to hide between the metal units and stovetops.
"Did he go through there?" I point at the double doors leading through to the cafe.
"No. Nobody came here."
Years of this shit and reading people tell me he isn't lying, but I need to check regardless.
I shove open the double doors between the kitchen and the cafe and walk into a room crammed with tables, chairs, and surprised people. The sedate mood drops, replaced by panic when they see Death joining them for coffee. A woman half screams as she notices my knife and grabs her toddler from the stroller beside her. A man at the nearest table jumps to his feet and steps toward me.
"Crap. Sorry." I push the knife back into my jacket and hold my hands up. "I'm looking for someone."
Before the stunned customers turn on me, I back up. Clashes with humans are not a good idea. Then I pause. No. He may've run through the front.
I navigate my way around the tables and open the door with my shoulder. If Mac came out this way, he's disappeared because there’s no sign of anybody outside.
"Excuse me," I mutter on my way back into the cafe and run back through the double doors before the man considering whether to tackle me tries. The guys in the kitchen haven't moved, and I throw them a look on the way past before I burst back into the rear alley.
"Xander?" The alleyway is empty, and I stride along to check between skips and behind boxes.
I hear a scuffle and a growling voice nearby, to my left behind piled refuse.
Xander.
I creep around the pile, hand on my knife hilt, and come across a dark, narrow passage between two buildings that leads between the front and rear alleyways. The space is barely wide enough for both Xander and a dishevelled Mac. He’s swapped his smart suit for dirty jeans and a heavy jacket, and has a rucksack at his feet.
Xander holds the point of his knife in front of Mac's throat, who has his hands up in a gesture of surrender. I block the exit and wait for a signal from Xander what to do.
"No, no!" Mac flattens himself against the wall. "Listen." He pants. "I have information."
Xander's stance slackens slightly. "Information about what?"
"The shit that's happening to you. I see and hear things, yeah?"
Xander presses the point against Mac's skin. "What things? I thought you and your fucked-up mates didn't get involved."
"Wrong." He stares back. "Some of my 'fucked-up mates' hear things too. And we know about the threat to Portia and about your Fifth and the trouble she's causing."
"Everybody knows this, I'm sure," snaps Xander. He presses the tip closer, and it nicks Mac's skin.
He chokes back a laugh. "Did you know some of her closest are working with the Order now?"
"What?" I ask. "Who?"
Mac stares between us, eyes wild. "I'll tell you if you agree to let me go." He wipes at the perspiration on his forehead.
"If you have any useful information, yeah, we will. But you need to get far away from here. I suggest the fucking Antarctic."
Mac pushes at Xander's arm to move the knife from his throat. "Okay. I have fae clients who want the magic I take from the kids. I sell the power for a pretty penny."
"How?" I ask.
"Easy. I transfer the magic to these clients the way the others do to me. Then they pay me a shit load to keep quiet."
Xander drops his arm. "Name them. Important fae?"
Mac swallows and touches his neck where the knife cut him. "You can guarantee my safety, right?"
"Uh. No. But we can give you a head start."
"Well, let's start with her adviser's husband. Logan? Heard of him."
Holy fuck. I knew it.
"Yeah, we're aware of him."
"He's not someone I trade with directly, but I've heard his name. I'm certain shit's going down inside their perfect world." He laughs. "They're no better than us, but at least I know who my enemies are."
Xander leans closer. "Tell me everything you've heard about Logan."
"As far as I know, Logan's linked to the fae who are buying my magic to strengthen themselves. I guess he can't enlist fae at his powerful level, so he's recruiting from the bottom and helping them gain stronger magic."
"Holy shit," I mutter. "I thought he was one of Portia's closest."
"How do you know all this?" demands Xander.
"Uh. When people are stoned, I ask questions and they tell me anything. It's always good to have some dirt on people in case I need to get myself out of situations like this, right?"
"Smart guy," snarls Xander.
"Yeah, so if you let me go, you'll understand why I'm getting the fuck out of here. What do you think'll happen if anyone discovers I opened my mouth?"
I drag my hands through my hair, watching Xander. He's pissed off and fired up; that isn't unusual or difficult to see, but can he keep calm?
I step forward. "Is Logan working with the Order?"
"No clue." Xander pushes the knife at Mac again. "Seriously, man. I don't know! I don't even know why he's doing this shit. Maybe they're pissed off with Portia treating them like she's a goddess not a queen. They say the woman behaves like she's this untouchable who calls the shots. I guess they want her out."
"Why the hell would fae want to become involved with the Order?” I ask Xander. "That makes no sense."
"Demon claws in society," he replies, eyes still on Mac. “Logan has to be involved. Why else divide us from Portia? Who else could bring a demon close enough to assassinate her, unless he was high up in her court?”