Chapter 31 · Last Row

"Contract number four-oh-nine." The broker's voice cut through the room before I even got my wrists free of the zip tie. "Finisher class. Trained under the old regime. Currently unclaimed."

I was in the last row. That's where they put merchandise, not buyers — folding chair, bare bulb, a man on either side of me holding my arms like I might bolt. I wasn't going to bolt. Bolting gets you shot in a room like this.

"Currently unclaimed is a nice way to say currently mine," I said.

The man on my left twisted my arm for that. I let him. Didn't cost me anything to let a guy feel useful.

Then the side door opened and the room went quiet the way a room goes quiet when the person who actually runs it walks in. Levi didn't hurry. He never hurries. He came down the aisle in that gray coat like he owned the concrete under it, and maybe he did, and every head in the front rows turned like he was pulling them on a string.

"Start the bidding," the broker said, a little too fast.

"No need." Levi didn't look at the broker. He looked at me.