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Prologue

TWO MEN STOOD IN the middle of a shadowed, barren field Both were human One was tall, muscled, with dark hair and a busted-up face His syn-cotton shirt was torn, his jeans dirty, and his boots scuffed There were telltale weapon bulges under his arms, at his wrists, and at his ankles

Clearly, he was the bodyguard

The other wore a perfectly tailored silk business suit, his Italian loafers freshly polished His sun-kissed hair was expensively coiffed, and the only bulge he sported was the one in his pocket, where he kept his wallet

Clearly, he was the money

Acrid wind shrieked as if so thick dirt granules in every direction, Money radiated ilee—until two other men materialized a few feet away, and the impatience vanished

The newcole step: a white-haired Arcadian—an otherworlder with the ability to teleport, a a suit as well, only his was ill-fitting and made from a cheap synthetic fiber

The huent fear and urine Poor bastard must have pissed himself

Without a word, the Arcadian pushed the tre male to his knees

Night’s about to get interesting

The rust-colored sky appeared swollen, the storm-drenched clouds ready to burst In the center, the sun was a heht That hardly narled trees surrounding the field, his gaze cut through the glooh flesh

“You think you can encroach on ust of wind created that perfect background music

“N—no I just … I … I’m so sorry I never meant …”

“You never irls? Better prices?”

“No No You have to believe ht … hoped …”

“You thought … hoped …” Money sneered No question, he was awhat he wanted, when he wanted it He held out his hand, and Bodyguard shts and hopes just got you killed”

“No!” Kneeler sobbed like a baby “Please! Don’t do this I’ll leave New Chicago I won’t ever come back I swear!”

Money nodded to the Arcadian, who jerked his T-shirt over his head and stuffed the material in Kneeler’s e the cloth, perhaps to attempt another plea for mercy

Either way, he failed

“You were right, you know,” Money said, sht erupted fro Kneeler in his chest