The workshop fell silent except for the steady drip of oil from somewhere in the shadows. Vivian's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, and before Sebastian could draw another breath, steel sang through the air. The tip of her rapier materialized against his chest, pressing just hard enough through the expensive fabric of his suit to make its presence unmistakably felt.
"You want to run that by me again?" Her voice had dropped to a whisper that somehow carried more menace than any shout. The blade didn't waver, held steady by a grip that spoke of years of training. "Because I could have sworn you just said something incredibly stupid."
Sebastian didn't move, didn't even shift his weight. One wrong twitch and that blade would punch through silk, cotton, and flesh without slowing down. But his gray eyes remained fixed on hers, unafraid. "Black Cat," he repeated slowly, as if testing each syllable. "That's the name I was given."
The pressure against his chest increased. A pearl button on his vest separated from its threads and hit the concrete floor with a tiny click that seemed to echo in the sudden stillness. "Who told you that name?" Vivian's left hand maintained perfect control of the rapier while her right moved with predatory grace toward his jacket. "And you'd better have a damn good answer, because right now you're about thirty seconds away from finding out how sharp I keep this thing."
"Old Kevin at the Rusty Anchor," Sebastian said, his voice steady despite the steel kissing his ribcage. "Said if I needed something... acquired... quickly and quietly, the Black Cat was the one to see. Said she worked out of Duncan's place."
Duncan had gone very still behind his workbench, grease-stained fingers hovering over the engine parts he'd been sorting. His weathered face revealed nothing, but Sebastian caught the almost imperceptible tightening around his eyes.
Vivian's searching hand found the inner pocket of Sebastian's jacket. Her fingers slipped inside, and despite the blade at his chest, Sebastian felt his pulse quicken at the contact. The back of her hand brushed against his shirt, the heat of her palm seeping through the fabric. For someone threatening to gut him, she was being remarkably thorough in her search.
"Kevin's been running his mouth again," she muttered, her fingers encountering the smooth surface of a business card. She pulled it out, glancing down without moving the rapier so much as an inch. The card was matte black with silver edges, completely blank except for the silhouette of a cat in one corner. No words, no numbers, no contact information. Just the cat.
Sebastian watched color rise in her cheeks as she realized how close they were standing, how her hand had lingered longer than strictly necessary against his chest. "Satisfied?" he asked, his voice dropping to a tone that was almost intimate despite the weapon between them.
"Where did you get this?" She held up the card, but her eyes had already given away the answer. Only one person in the city could produce cards like that, and they both knew it.