That seemed to push Deimos over into unadulterated loathing for Mak’s challenge to his ego.
His charming veneer slipped away, revealing his insecurity.
He attempted to goad and talk down to Mak, starting by flicking his eyes with disdain at the Signet strong guard’s glowing tattoos and bejeweled hands. ‘I heard you were a rebel in your earlier years.’
‘I was. I chose to fight for justice during the Apocalypse Wars and not hide from the conflict under the facade of heritage, private schooling, and tailored banker aesthetic.’
Deimos glowered at Mak’s insinuation.
Mak had read up on him and was spot on; the man had never served in the cataclysmic wars that had raged on Earth.
He had disappeared into the arms of the Accord and hid, concealed by their protection, until the worst was over.
‘You’re just a gangster in a suit,’ he growled.
Mak didn’t give afokkwhat Deimos thought about him, but he couldn’t help but dig at him. ‘And you’re a coward in yours, as was every man who escaped the war effort.’
Deimos Vale leaned in, a cold gleam in his eyes, not attempting to mask the bite beneath his smile.
‘You’ve got quite the mouth for an ex-con,’ he murmured, each silken word dipped in poison.
Mak smirked. ‘A former felon with an empire bigger than your own. Must sting, knowing I did time and still lapped you.’
Deimos’ smile thinned. ‘Careful. I’ve buried men for less.’
Mak gripped Deimos’ hand and pulled him close to him, in what appeared to be a friendly man-hug.
He whispered into the man’s ear. ‘Try it. But wear black because your next starring gig will be at your funeral.’
In actuality, the move was a way for him to bring his suit jacket pocket adjacent to him.
To allow proximity to the slim, dark device hidden in his own.
It was meant to hack and clone his wrist comm, giving his team, led by Kaal, unprecedented access to Deimos’s calls, messages, and data if successful.
A harsh buzz in his ear confirmed something was wrong.
Fokk. He had to pull back.
He leaned away and shot Deimos a frigid simper, while the Codex operator gave him an incredulous, suspicious look.
Deimos’ jaw twitched. ‘I’m not nervous, nor afraid of you.’
Mak’s smile curved, slow, and surgical. ‘Then calm your voice, Vale. It’s shaking.’
‘Fokkyou,’ Deimos exhaled through his nose and walked off with tight, deliberate strides.
Mak tracked the man’s back as it vanished into the crowds and chuckled as he reached for a nearby sanitizer auto dispenser.
He used it well, then wiped his fingers with his kerchief, washing thekinai’sslime away.
Mak sent a neural node message to Kaal.Brother, it didn’t work; we need plan B.
I’ll figure it out.
We only have one shot.
Well aware. On it.
