It was sunny in Massachusetts, and the air was warm. He was waiting in one of the outside sitting areas of a nice restaurant near the North End in Boston. His eyes tracked people as they walked past, unable to help himself. That boy walked with a limp, slight, but there, a bad hip. The girl with the heels had a hickey on her neck like a vampire had put it there. The man in the suit, who bent over to pick something he'd dropped from the ground, was wearing lady's underwear. The group of teens that walked by all had blood shot eyes from smoking and the group that walked behind them in pink vests were all ready to go to work, upbeat and looking for Red Bull. He saw a lot of things from behind his darkly tinted sunglasses, things most people wouldn't notice at first glance.
Altair was waiting for his new client. He'd gotten an email from his middle man about it and he'd set it up. Altair didn't normally take new clients, he was quite happy with the ones he already had. But this one interested him. It was a US Senator. All sorts of things could come from one of those.
He checked his phone, looking at the clock. They weren't late, he was just early. The waitress made a pass by his table but he just waved her off lightly and she paused only long enough to fill his water glass again before carrying on.
A minute to the mark after their scheduled time a man sat in the chair opposite him. He was an older man, though his hair was still brown, but starting to silver, and he had an old world face with a distinctly shaped nose. There were fine lines on his face, around his mouth and eyes and his forehead but his eyes were sharp and clever and for some reason Altair took a liking to him.
"Mr. Kenway, at last," Altair didn't reach out to shake his hand.
"King," Haytham said and looked like he was about to offer his hand, but then seemed to think better of it. Currently Altair was wearing the skin of one Joshua King, a black man who was thin as a skeleton, shaved his head, and had perfect white teeth. Joshua King lived in South Africa as a flooring salesman, Altair had liked him because he had a very particular way of speaking where he could convince you of anything. Also Altair had liked his accent. "How long have you been here?"
"A few minutes," Altair said, rolling Joshua's accent around in his mouth as he spoke. "Axel said you wanted to see me."
"Well, I wanted to see someone who could help me," he said.
"Oh? And what sort of help do you need, Senator?" Altair asked.
Haytham shifted in his chair and leaned forward a bit, "The devil sort," he said lowly, "I was told you… knew of such things."
"I may," Altair was wary now.
"Axel said you knew one," Haytham continued, "Whoever they are, that's who I would rather be talking to."
"And why is that?" he asked, "Need a prop for that bill you're pushing?" One that would give devils rights over their powers and let them move more freely with them. All devils lived in secret, to be known was to invite tragedy, even in this day and age. Shit it was more acceptable to sleep with men than it was for him to be a devil. Before Christianity it would have been better to be born a devil than anything. You were respected, loved, and even the lowest goat herd could be a prince if he was a devil. At least Haytham wasn't trying to deny devils more rights, since being found to be a devil was grounds to get terminated from your job, denied loans, kicked out of your apartment, or forced to drop out of school. Altair would have killed Haytham then and there if he had been, no questions asked or money needed.
"No," Haytham said, "I… my family, needs help," he said rather uselessly.
"Oh? What sort of help can a devil give a Senator's family?" Altair cocked his head to the side a little.
The worry lines in Haytham's forehead formed, "I have a son," Altair nodded, he knew that from his research of Haytham before meeting with him. "And he… well he…
"He's one of them?" Altair asked. Haytham nodded slowly. "How old is he?"
"Fourteen," Haytham said, "It just started and it isn't like devils are exactly easy to track down. They're nearly impossible to tell apart from humans except when they enact their pact."
Altair chuckled, "Oh, you have no idea Senator," he said.
"Axel said you know a guy."
"I might," Altair shrugged.
"I want to employ him."
"To do what exactly?" Altair rose his brows at Haytham.
"We don't know what his blood price is," Haytham was speaking softly, so others wouldn't overhear, and Altair was leaning on the table now, watching Haytham behind his shades. "And he doesn't know how to control it. I was hoping… they could teach him," Haytham said uselessly.
The waitress came by and asked if Haytham wanted some water. She poured some for him and asked if they needed anything. Altair dismissed her saying not right then. "Well I can tell you Mr. Kenway," Altair said, "I don't represent a devil," and Haytham looked a bit chest fallen, "I am a devil."
Haytham only swallowed, but didn't flinch. "You are?"
"As dastardly as they come," Altair smirked with Joshua's face. "Now tell me about your boy."
"Like I said he's fourteen, and just recently his abilities have started to evolve. He uses them and prompted collapses into a deep sleep. When he wakes up he's fine."
"What are his abilities?" Altair asked.
"So far we know he can turn invisible, and he can teleport," Haytham said. "And after he's done them both he just falls asleep for about half an hour."
"Hmm," Altair said thoughtfully. "No blood price?"
"There has to be one. He was invisible once for twenty-six hours, and then he finally fell asleep exhausted. He woke up visible."
Altair leaned back, "So you want me to help your son?" Haytham nodded. Devils weren't so common that you could just ignore a new one when they popped up. His grandfather had told him that it was every devil's duty to train the next generation, so they weren't afraid of what they were, so they could control themselves. A devil without control over their pact, or with a poor understanding of their blood price, could hurt others, or themselves. "What are you willing to pay for my services?"
"Anything," Haytham said, "I know you live in New York, you can stay here with us while you're helping my son. How much do you want?"
Altair thought a long time on what that number could be. "I have a rate," Altair said, "Per job, that usually lasts anywhere from three to five days. You will pay that, every five days, for as long as I'm with your son."
"What's the rate?" Haytham asked.
"Fifty thousand dollars," Altair said and he saw Haytham flinch, but he didn't balk. "My services are premium, Mr. Kenway," he said. "I have many clients who all know that when I do something, it is done exactly as ordered and done so in a quick and orderly fashion. They all know I am worth my price tag."
Haytham looked pained, "All right," he said, "fifty."
"Once your son no longer needs my guidance you can stop paying."
"How long will that take?" Haytham asked.
"However long it takes," Altair said. "Unless your son's control isn't important to you? Part of the bill you're trying to pass includes a mandatory registration of devils into a database, along with training for their abilities. Do you read super hero comics?"
"No?" Haytham asked, confused.
"Maybe you should," Altair said. "Marvel Civil War, forced registration didn't turn out too good for the humans in that one. And unlike super heros, most devils are self serving."
"Including you?"
"I'm doing this for the money," Altair said and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through a few of the cards and pulled out one that was simple white card stock with a phone number on it and under it was a routing number. He offered it to Haytham. "I start as soon as the first payment has been wired to my account."
"How do I know you're really a devil?" Haytham asked as he took the card slowly. Altair shifted his arm and grabbed Haytham by the wrist.
"I am," Altair said through Haytham's mouth. Haytham's eyes were as wide as dinner plates staring at himself. Altair shifted back into Joshua and released Haytham's wrist. "When I see you again I won't look like this," he said. "Call me when the money's been wired and tell me where you need me to be. I'll come," and he stood up, adjusting his clothes and walked out of the restaurant.
—
The house was in the middle of the state, out in the woods. It wasn't a mansion, it was just a very large house. A groundskeeper was tending the plants when Altair pulled up into the driveway and got out, wearing his own skin. He appraised the house, the front gardens. The groundskeeper looked at him briefly before going back to what he was going.
He went up to the door and rang the door bell. The door opened, "Hello?" asked a boy, tall for his age but not taller than Altair. His hair was messy and black and his face was covered in freckles.
"Hello," Altair said, "my name is Altair. Is Haytham home?"
"Uh, yeah," and he turned into the house, "Dad!" he called. "Come on in," he opened the door for Altair and he walked in. Connor looked tired, bone weary, like he'd been staying awake a lot.
Haytham showed up a few moments later. "Ah, Altair, good to see you," this time Altair did shake Haytham's hand. "Connor, this is Altair."
"I know," Connor said, in a typical teenager way.
"He's a devil," Haytham continued and Connor's eyes got wide.
"What's he doing here?" Connor asked, and swallowed.
"He's here to teach you, son," Haytham said.
"But I haven't done anything recently," Connor said, sounding petrified.
Altair frowned, "You don't need to be afraid," he said, "Of me, or yourself."
"I'm not afraid!" Connor insisted.
Altair wasn't impressed with him, he looked at Haytham, "You can show me around later," he said. "I'd like to begin now."
"All right," Haytham said slowly.
"If you'd excuse us," he added.
"Dad-
"It'll be fine, Connor," Haytham said soothingly.
"Yeah but-
"Connor. We talked about this," he said sternly.
Connor pursed his lips, "All right."
"Good. If you need anything, just let me know," Haytham told Altair before leaving, though clearly with some reluctance.
"Where's someplace we can sit down?" Altair asked Connor.
"The living room, its this way," and Connor showed him into the room. Altair sat on a couch, Connor sat on a big chair opposite him and sat cross legged on it. "You're really a devil?"
"Yes," Altair said.
"You don't look like one."
"Neither do you. And yet here we are," Altair made a vague hand motion. "Before we start, there are some things you need to realize. You are not human. You were not born human. You will never be human. You are a devil. No matter how badly you clearly don't want to be a devil; you are a devil. It means you can be trusted more readily than humans with our secrets."
"Like what?" Connor asked.
"Our pacts," Altair said. "The pact is what sets us apart from humans, what makes us more than human, better than them. If a devil trusts you enough to tell you the details of their pact you must never break that trust. Do not tell anyone, not their family, not your best friend. Our pact is our life and we cannot afford to have humans know us without our consent. I know devils who have resorted to murder when someone, both devil and human, have tried to blackmail them by saying they'd reveal them."
"But why would they do that?" Connor frowned.
"Because pacts are power, just as they are for us. The pact is a part of you, and you don't have to be afraid of it."
"I'm not-
"When was the last time you slept?" Connor didn't answer. "Afraid you'll wake up invisible? Or somewhere you didn't fall asleep?" Connor nodded slowly. "The first few months or year when your abilities develop are the scariest times," Altair said, "Its alright to be afraid, but you can't stay afraid."
"Were you scared?"
"I was," Altair said.
Connor hesitated, "What can you do?"
"I'm a shapeshifter. I can take on the appearance and voice of people I touch, at will. I was fifteen the first time it happened and I shifted into my best friend, a fellow devil. I was so afraid because I didn't know how to change back, and no one knew what my blood price was. But we figured it out, and now I control it. I don't let my pact control me, which is what all devils must do," briefly he thought of Adha. She was so afraid of her gift, and let it control her, let it dictate what she let herself do.
"How did you find out what your pact was?" Connor asked.
"My grandfather was a devil. He trained me, and figured out my blood pact."
"Well how do you figure it out?"
"You have to see it," Altair said. "Devils know devils and when a devil enacts their pact around you you can taste it. Some devils I know say they can feel it. But it is a physical stimuli to our bodies, reacting towards the pact being enacted."
"So you'll be able to figure out my blood price?"
"Yes," Altair said. "But you need to enact your pact."
"I don't know how."
Altair smiled a little, "And that is entirely the reason I'm here, Connor."
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