“Obviously,” she offered. “This concerns the restaurant? There’s a threat to it?”

  “Yeah. Kind of.” Tony looked troubled. “Sorry, boss. It’s just, I’m nervous about all this. You took a chance on me when you didn’t kill my ass when we first met, and you took another when you offered me this job, and now it’s all going to be for nothing because I didn’t see something coming.”

  Zaena groaned and lowered her arms. Maybe she needed to appear less threatening. “Please, Tony, calm down and tell me what’s going on. I have access to tremendous resources, including Mr. Smith. We can handle a considerable variety of threats.”

  “One of our main suppliers called me up this morning and said out of nowhere they had to cancel the contract unless we wanted to pay twice as much.” He threw up his hands. “I tried calling some other people, and we can negotiate different suppliers, but we won’t get the amount of stuff we need by the time we need it. We’re screwed, and we’re going to have to push back the opening. With everything we need, we might have to push it back a month.”

  Zaena frowned. “We have media already arranged, along with social media activities. It will damage the momentum of our restaurant to delay the opening.”

  “I know!” Tony groaned. He flopped onto his couch. “I did my best to try to fix it but got nowhere. The next couple of guys were booked up solid, and it doesn’t matter ‘cause I’m betting the next guy we sign a contract with will jack up the price, too.”

  “There’s something you’re not telling me,” Zaena insisted. “Be very clear about why you suspect that. After all, you’re both an informant and the head chef. I expect more from you than I might from others.”

  Tony let his head loll back on the couch. “I’m not a hundred percent on this, but I’ve been hearing about movement lately.”

  “Triads?”

  “Not real Triads.” Tony shook his head. “Between the cops and the Crimson Wind, almost all the old gangs and organized crime groups are gone, but there are people left over who get that they can’t deal drugs or guns. However, they already had near-monopolies on supplying certain types of businesses. Middleman stuff. Some people decided to take over those existing monopolies. It’s easy right now because the cops are taking out people left and right. I think they figure they can continue to jack up the prices, and if anyone gets in their face about it, they push back.”

  “This is simple extortion.” Zaena scoffed. “They think because it’s not as blatant, they’ll get away with it. Unacceptable.”

  “I don’t know ‘bout them not getting away with it, boss, but everyone says things haven’t changed much other than who is getting the pay in the end. It’s why I couldn’t handle it all myself. I’m afraid if I start yelling, they’ll come and kick my ass.” Tony grimaced. “I can take a little pain, but if they beat my ass right before the opening, we’re screwed.”

  “I see. That’s a sensible conclusion.” Zaena pulled out her phone to send a text to Karl. “Don’t worry yourself. I’ll handle this. This is a manageable problem.”

  I need to speak with you concerning a restaurant security matter. I’ll be back at the WRB soon.

  Tony stared at her phone. “You calling the Crimson Wind? She can deliver the pain.”

  Zaena stared at him. At least this time, she could be honest. “No. I’m contacting Karl.”

  “Not saying he’s not a big badass, but this might be more than one big guy can handle. These guys aren’t the Demon Overlords, but it’s more than one bastard.”

  “Karl is quite capable of handling more than a single bastard.” Zaena opened his door. “I need to discuss matters with him. Once I have a decision on a course of action, I’ll need you to point me at the most likely candidates for a negotiation.”

  “I told you, boss. I’m not a hundred percent on this.”

  “I understand that,” Zaena replied. “Are you more than ninety percent certain?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good enough. I just need some other small bits of information, then. I want to have this all resolved this afternoon.”

  Zaena returned to the White Ruby Building and found Karl in the security room, going through security feeds. She explained the situation.

  Karl chuckled. “That makes sense. The feds could come in and nail them for some price-fixing crap, but that’d take a lot of time, and I doubt the feds care all that much about local restaurant supplies. These idiots got stupid by getting greedy. They could have kept it at, like, two percent above normal and raked in cash without drawing any attention.”

  “You’re saying there’s no law enforcement solution?” Zaena asked.

  “I’m saying it’ll take a while. Implied threats aren’t enough, and if these guys were hardcore, the cops would already be targeting them.” Karl tapped a security monitor. “We need more if the locals are going to move on something like this. If these guys are trying to play it quiet-like, they might not be able to do much if someone new shows up and sets up shop. This could be one of those competition-and-the-free-market-save-the-day things.”

  Zaena shivered. “I’d rather not wait for suspicious invisible hands.”

  “Sure, and there’s no guarantee they won’t muscle the new guys out. They might only be playing nice because no one’s pushed them too hard.” Karl furrowed his brow. “You could use a non-local company. Whatever leftover gangster trash is still around can’t control every restaurant supply store in the entire country.”

  Zaena sighed. “Tony was so proud of finding local suppliers. In our previous discussions, he insisted it’d help tie this restaurant into the community and make it a more powerful symbol. The idea was the building that formerly housed the greatest parasites in Chinatown and San Francisco was now not only serving the neighborhood and city, but it was also helping their businesses and honest citizens.”

  “Yeah.” Karl frowned. “That makes sense, but I’m not too keen on letting gangsters think they can get away with crap. All it takes is one bad incident to scare people, and even if the cops come and take them out, it could wash away months of progress. The wrong kinds of people are going to come to the restaurant if they still believe it’s under the thumb of gangsters.”

  “That is unacceptable.” Zaena tapped her lip. “We do have an advantage in that these ne’er-do-wells are attempting subtlety.”

  Karl turned in his chair to face her. “What does that get us? I think it gets us one shot at most. We better make sure we hit what hurts them.”

  “What it gets us is a possible resolution without the Crimson Wind,” Zaena suggested. “Although people will inevitably tie this face to the armor, I’d prefer to delay that as long as possible. Having the Crimson Wind show up in defense of the restaurant all but screams my identity on Twitter with the hashtag #CrimsonWindTrueID.”

  Karl sighed. “Or it points to Grace, which ends up pointing at you eventually.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then what’s your plan? I’ve got your back, Princess, but we can’t go in half-assed.”

  Zaena curled her fingers into a fist. “These are vestiges, mere shadows of once-powerful gangs. I don’t think we need the power of the Ruby of Tarilan or obvious magic to defeat them. I imagine a handful of enforcers are attempting this scheme. From what Tony told me, the man leading the group, a Mr. Canni, doesn’t have a criminal record and is new to San Francisco.”

  “Not having a record might just mean he wasn’t caught. Not getting caught just means he’s a good criminal.” Karl grimaced. “You want to take on a bunch of gangsters with guns without magic?”

  “Without obvious magic,” Zaena corrected, shaking her finger. “Not necessarily without magic, but we’ve both demonstrated significant unarmed combat skills that’ll allow us to handle common criminals if they don’t go for their weapons, and if this Canni isn’t a famous gangster, we have a better chance of handling this without significant trouble. He’d have a reputation for cruelty and strength otherwise.”

  “Canni could be a fresh arrival that assumed a new identity,” Karl replied. “We could look into it before going at him.”

  “We don’t have time. We need to reestablish our supply channels right away to keep to our opening schedule, and I refuse to let my people be bullied by these short-sighted, arrogant thugs.”

  “Fine,” Karl replied. “But what if we’re wrong? What if we show up, and they’ve got rocket launchers and machine guns?”

  “Then an appearance by the Crimson Wind will be inevitable,” Zaena offered with a smile. “I want these low-level scumbags to understand they will not lean on my suppliers.”

  Karl chuckled. “They might think you’re angling to be the new kingpin.”

  “If they wish to think of me as a criminal who only preys on other criminals, so be it.” Zaena stared at him. “Are you comfortable with this course of action?’

  “Why the hell not?” Karl cracked his knuckles. “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to kick any ass.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Karl pulled his car up to the curb. The single-story office building was nondescript from the outside. On the front door hung a blue sign that read Bay Force Restaurant Supply Group. There were no windows at the entrance, but there were two obvious cameras.

  Zaena leaned back in the passenger seat. Grace had disguised her well with an auburn wig and facial putty. Her suit, sunglasses, and the short hairstyle of the wig made her look like a refugee from the Secret Service. The Ruby of Tarilan was tucked into her shirt.

  Karl patted his hidden shoulder holster. Zaena didn’t want the situation to end with anyone being killed. If Tony’s info was accurate, the BFRSG was barely a gang, more a group of criminal middlemen. Karl wasn’t ready to bet his life on Tony.

  Even if they were a far cry from the Demon Overlords, they were still willing to threaten people with force. It did suggest there weren’t any magical statue soldiers or heavy machine guns hidden inside.

  Checking out the BFRSG before proceeding would have been preferable, but Karl needed to let Zaena continue to grow into her position. She’d learned a lot since arriving, and this operation wasn’t based on her misunderstanding of a TV series or something she’d read. It relied on street-level information networks and a plan that didn’t involve destroying everyone in sight. He couldn’t have asked for more.

  “According to Tony,” she noted, “these men have threatened people, but there are few clear cases of them killing anyone. It was enough to frighten him, though.”

  “That explains why they’ve stayed under the radar,” Karl replied. “I’m guessing they don’t normally press so hard, but they probably think whoever took over the Overlords’ old building has underworld connections, and they might feel like they needed to put on a stronger face.”

  “Wouldn’t potential underworld links suggest they not adopt such a strategy?” Zaena asked.

  “Not if they’re trying to make a point.” Karl stepped out of the car. He waited until Zaena got out also. “Everyone knows there’s no strong organized crime groups left in San Francisco. They’re gambling that whatever weakened gangsters they might run into aren’t going to be much tougher than them.”

  “What about the Crimson Wind?” Zaena patted the bulge of the ruby. “Wouldn’t they fear her? Fear me?”

  “Very few people know she’s you,” Karl pointed out. “You’re not kicking ass only at the club in Chinatown or targeting mostly the Demon Overlords anymore. There’s not even a strong association with your patrols and the neighborhood now. I bet these guys think that as long as they stay quiet enough to avoid most cop attention, they’ll avoid your attention too.”

  Zaena headed toward the door. “That suggests they can be reasonable if approached properly.” She motioned at the building. “I’m not sensing anything unusual.”

  “Yeah. Nice to know we’ve got all the magic on our side.” Karl locked his car with a press of the key fob before jogging to catch up. “I’m sure the owner is secretly a dragon in human form.”

  Zaena scoffed. “That’s ludicrous. We’d be sensing magic, and not only are there no dragons left active, but they wouldn’t be able to disguise themselves as something smaller.”

  Karl smirked. “Yeah, it’s totally stupid to assume it’s a dragon instead of a crazy elf ghost. At least you’ve run into one of those recently.”

  “That was an unusual encounter.” Zaena stopped at the door, her expression pensive. “Remember, the goal here isn’t lethality. I don’t want evidence of deadly defenses being associated with the restaurant. That will only invite a potential escalation against our employees.”

  “As we discussed on the way over here, I’ll do the talking, but I’ll follow your lead on the beat down.”

  Zaena opened the door and motioned Karl through into the large lobby. There were too many plants for Karl’s liking, and the Top 40 Pop playing on the speakers was killing him.

  A sour-faced secretary behind a glass desk glared at him like he was a crushed bug on the bottom of her shoe. The intensity of her gaze lessened upon spotting Zaena, but she didn’t come close to anything approaching a smile.

  The problem they’d found with Grace’s disguises was that they could be too good. They canceled much of the positive reaction to Zaena’s unearthly beauty, although her natural aura still came through. Zaena removed her sunglasses and tucked them into a pocket.

  “You don’t have an appointment,” the secretary declared.

  “How do you know?” Karl asked. “I haven’t given you my name yet.”

  “Because your name is Karl Smith,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “You’re not exactly a man of mystery.” She pressed a button. “Mr. Canni, Karl Smith here to see you, along with…” She stared at Zaena expectantly.

  “I’m his personal assistant,” Zaena replied, faking an American accent. It came out as a strange mix of Texas by way of Madrid. “Monica Moaner.”

  Karl gave her a sharp look. The porn star-sounding name was bad enough, but they had not discussed her pretending to be American. He’d told her before not to bother since she couldn’t pull it off. It’d almost be better if she pretended she didn’t know English and spoke a different language.

  Footfalls sounded from a hallway blocked by a keypad-protected door. The door opened, and a huge man, taller than Karl, stepped out. He was followed by a group of suited hard-looking men. Karl recognized one man from a destroyed Triad and another from a defeated Russian Mafia organization.

  Karl was almost proud. People from different backgrounds had come together to pursue their sick version of the American dream. E pluribus unum for crime.

  Canni nodded at his secretary. “Go take an early lunch. I’ll call you when you should come back.”

  She stood with a smile and smoothed her skirt. “Should I call anyone else, Mr. Canni?”

  “No.” Canni scratched his cheek. “That won’t be necessary. We can handle this guy.”

  The secretary retrieved her purse from beneath the desk and strolled out with surprising speed, given the ridiculous heels she wore. Karl could have hunted a vampire with them. She tossed her hair back and harrumphed at him before stepping out.

  “Karl Smith,” Canni declared. “Head of Security for the White Ruby Company. Ex-PI. Ex-cop. Current pain in the ass.”

  “Depends on who you ask,” Karl replied.

  Canni glared at Karl. “Who do you really work for?”

  “The White Ruby Company,” Karl replied. “You got it right the first time, pal.”

  “What’s this little visit about, Smith?” Canni asked. He walked over to the desk and sat on the edge, then crossed his beefy arms, straining his poor sleeves. “You need restaurant supplies? We can hook you up.”

  “We had restaurant supplies.” Karl frowned. “I don’t have time for crap, Canni. We both know you’re squeezing the Sleeping Dragon. It’s a WRC business, so it falls under my sphere of responsibility. If you didn’t want me being a pain in your ass, you shouldn’t have messed with them.”

  “Squeezing them how?” Canni chuckled. “There’s a shortage of a lot of things right now for a lot of reasons. That means there are price increases. Sure, not everyone is getting charged the same, but I’ve got existing relationships with earlier clients. They’ve got to be prioritized, and newer, unproven restaurants have to deal with the premiums.”

  Zaena cleared her throat. “Sir, isn’t it true you’ve pressured third parties to ensure these price increases?”

  Canni sneered and looked her up and down. “Sweetheart, you might want to go for an early lunch, too. I don’t think you’re going to like where this conversation is going.”

  “I’m sure I won’t,” she replied in a sharp tone, “but I’d also rather not leave.”

  Annoyance flashed in his eyes, but he turned back to Karl. “We’re not doing anything wrong. We’ve got contracts with clearly stipulated clauses concerning the pricing and our freedom of discretion. If you have a problem with your immediate supplier, why don’t you take them to court?”

  “Right before the restaurant opens?” Zaena replied with a scoff. “You’re attempting to bury the Sleeping Dragon.”

  Karl grunted and didn’t interrupt. Ridiculous accent aside, her royal aura might help with de-escalation.

  “I’m not burying anything,” Canni insisted. “I’m a simple businessman who’s trying to make money by facilitating wholesaling. I’m sure your restaurant can find all the suppliers it needs if it casts a wider net. Not my problem. It’s hard to start up a new restaurant in the Bay Area and find cheap and quality local suppliers.”

  “Please,” Zaena offered, her voice quiet. “We’re giving you a chance.”

  Canni stared at her. “I don’t like you. You remind me of my ex-wife for some reason. You don’t look anything like her, but it’s like I want to do what you say when you open your mouth, just like with her. I hate that. Don’t talk again.”

  Zaena snorted and glared at him.