in the basement of her headquarters with a cigarette in hand. It was a dark, dingy place, lit by one bare lightbulb overhead. Old dark stains and splatters covered the ground. The air reeked of smoke, sweat, and blood. A half dozen of her men lined the walls, standing at attention and ready to serve their boss the moment she ordered it.

  And chained up to the ceiling, hanging by his wrists and looking like a mass of purple welts, was the thug that had earned her ire today.

  "So," said Akira lazily. Her bloodied sledgehammer clattered loudly as she tossed it aside. More red flecked her face and clothes. "Causin' some trouble's par for the course. Can't be a softie who pledges to the new boss the day she shows up. Gotta prove you got spine and loyalty to stick up even when your old man's gone. Sure, sure. But if that was all, we wouldn't be here, now would we?"

  No response besides spitting up blood. But she expected as much.

  "You've got some insane balls." Akira's cigarette burned bright as she inhaled. On breaths of smoke, she said, "For starters, I don't buy my girls from anyone. What was it for, huh? To turn around and offer me the cash you got shipping off my own—pull the wool over my eyes and get in my good books on the fast track? To make yourself a quick buck 'n dip, hopin' you never got caught? Or did ya just have no damn clue how I run my business?"

  She flicked the cigarette butt at his feet.

  "Let's make things crystal clear between you and I," she growled. "Feel free to tell all your friends too. The girls under my care aren't inventory. They're off limits, now and forever. I don't care how many street whores you've been through before coming here, I don't give two shits how much dough you've raked in sending cages overseas. Nobody lays one fucking finger on 'em without my permission. That's how it's always been and that's how it's always gonna be. You got that?"

  His face was too mashed up to read any expression, but she caught the dip of his head.

  "Welcome to the Akanaga family," Akira got off her cement block and turned her back with a dismissive wave. "Boys! I'm done with him. Do what you will, but make sure there's enough left of him to grow back. Leave him somewhere the others will find him. Make sure the word gets out that nobody fucks around in my ward—not the ways I don't allow."

  "Yes, boss!" they chorused. "We'll get it done, boss!"

  Akira slammed the heavy metal door behind her and scraped the goop off her boots on the carpet before heading up. Ugh, he got blood on her shirt. She had half a mind to go back and give him a few more kicks for that.

  She went to her private room and sifted through her drawers until she found what she was looking for. When she stepped out of the office building, the cropped top that showed off her midriff had been replaced with a white sleeveless shirt that fully covered her front.

  "Akira."

  A deep, gravelly voice stopped her in her tracks. Akira bit back her groan of frustration. She really wanted to stop thinking about business for five minutes. She was not in the mood for this.

  "…Yoshi." She turned to her fellow family lieutenant.

  Yoshizawa stood just outside, his limousine parked on the curb of this empty street on the Reverse. Tall, bulky, platinum, leonine. His smile didn't slip, but she saw the irritatation in his eyes. "Is that how you greet an old friend?"

  "Then maybe say my name the right way and we can get started properly," she shot back, smirking.

  "Word came down the grapevine that Kirigami is still giving you some trouble, Akanaga."

  "Nothing I can't handle. What kinda boss would I be if I couldn't?"

  "Of course, of course. Far be it from me to assume."

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  Slimy. Slithering. Backhanded, empty words that only ever meant the opposite. People like this were the kind whose faces Akira wanted to shove her boot through the most.

  "But take a step back and look at the greater picture," said Yoshizawa. "It's a truly impressive feat—the Akanaga family, hardly ever known for showing their teeth, assimilating the war-loving Kirigami family that numbers twice their own! I'd hardly expect them to roll over for you, and indeed, you're entirely capable of quelling the unrest…"

  "Took the words outta my mouth," she said flatly. "So? The point being? You didn't come here just to lube me up."

  "You can bring them to heel," he said. "But what of your men? What about when you're not there to protect your assets?"

  Assets. That word made Akira's boot scrape half an inch across the ground before she knew it even moved.

  "Then I'll get there," she said. "Simple as that."

  "You can't be everywhere at once. Certainly, you can control, you can lead, but the road ahead will be bumpy. Fraught with trouble. Needless bloodshed. Internal strife. All the fuckin' headaches o' the job, y'could say."

  "You got that right," she grumbled. "You're still not out with it, Yoshizawa."

  "I'm offering you my men," he said. "My best managers and my strongest enforcers. I'll even throw in my own captain—at your beck and call, to use how you see fit. We all belong to the same family, after all. It only does me more good to see us all succeed."

  Seeing the doubt on her face, he piled on before she could call him out.

  "And their geas go to you."

  That gave her pause. If even the binding contracts transferred to her…

  "Bullshit." She shook her head and carried on with her gut feeling. A twisted half-grin made its way across Akira's face. "There's no world we do anything out for each other's sakes just because of our own precious bleedin' hearts. And in return for handing over the biggest chunk of your own forces to little old me, what? You want tribute? You want an invisible chain 'round my neck called the debt that can't be repaid in full?"

  "I'm no slave driver," he chuckled. "No, it's very concrete."

  He turned his head, and Akira scowled. Yoshizawa was looking in the direction she was about to go before he showed up.

  The thin line of her mouth warped. And then she laughed aloud. "Ha! What a fuckin' ripoff! A few weeks of chores smoothed over in exchange for the fuckin' lab? C'mon, you're insulting me even trying to offer it!"

  "Watch your damn tone," he rumbled. "I've taken the time out of my busy schedule to come all this way and offer you this proposal in person."

  "And you're burnin' my time on this Earth while you're at it," she shot back, still grinning.

  "Little Akira," he sneered. "Little, tiny snake with nothing but a dead sector to her name. You're gonna spit on my offer and my men?"

  "Sorry." She thumbed a leftover fleck of dried blood off her cheek. "They'll be helpful and all, but I'd say the value of the lab is miles ahead of anything you could try and give me—not without liquidating half your own fortune to even start. You know that just as well as I do, don'tcha?"

  She put her hands in her pockets, and the smile faded.

  "And," said Akira, "you're not getting your hands on her that easy."

  Akira was content to let Erina work at her own pace, set her own terms, and all that other noise when it came to the laboratory. She had no illusions about how patient the rest of the family would be when it came to a treasure trove like that—or what they would do to see results in their hands faster.

  Yoshizawa grinned. More accurately, he bared his teeth. Stepping back, his arms came up half-spread in a partial shrug. "Then I won't hear it when you come crawling back looking to reopen the same file you just closed."

  "Wouldn't dream of it," she droned.

  He regarded her for a moment longer. This went far deeper than a mere trade offer. Refusal meant rejection and rejection meant retaliation. On top of what would be gained and lost in the trade came one more factor—whether Akira made an enemy of her fellow patriarch or not.

  But Akira didn't back down in the slightest.

  Come get some.

  Yoshizawa's grin widened, and he turned away.

  The engine started and the gleaming limousine sped off. Akira watched it go, farther and farther, all the way down the road until that tiny speck on the distance flickered as it jumped across worlds and back onto the Surface. Cursing under her breath, Akira went the opposite way, to the place she intended to go from the start.

  She passed through the door of the abandoned doctor's office. That odd feeling of crossing into subspace, and she emerged into the metallic hallway of the old laboratory, with only darkness up ahead.

  Akira scowled. It wasn't supposed to end up like this. The last thing she ever expected was for it to go anywhere. Why did she have to go and tell Erina anything? Really, she ought to have kept her mouth shut. Pretended she didn't know jack squat.

  How the hell did Aileen know? An ancient follower of the Great Witch with millennia of experience under her belt had to know how to stay under the radar. If Lazarus willed it, she was surely as immaterial and uncatchable as the breath it took to wish to find her. Seven years since landing herself in the sights of the First Equalizer, and still at large!

  Akira regretted it. She thought it'd be a nice vacation, feed Erina's curiosity a bit, throw her a bone. Now here she was staring down something bigger than the girl could wrap her clever little head around.

  "Guess I'm just a sucker for cute girls," muttered Akira. She scoffed and added, "See where that gets me…"

  Static crackled around her arms as she ventured into the depths.