by Travis Brett
Sparks’ own breath caught in his throat.
No . . . I didn’t mean to . . . Sparks’ stomach threatened to hurl the bread he had just eaten. The taste of blood filled his mouth — he had bitten his own tongue.
Crouching down, he laid a finger against the man’s neck. No pulse.
Sparks’ legs collapsed under him. His brain denied the impossibility of what just happened. He had killed before, for sure, but that had been in fair fights. But this? He shivered, suddenly cold again.
Roman’s words, yelled at Sparks in the Mutt’s Tail, sounded in his head. Do you know how many innocent people in this city have been killed by Adrenalites like you?
“I’m not a monster,” Sparks whispered, but looking at the corpse in front of him, it was hard to believe it.
He looked around, half expecting to find Caleb frowning at him. But there was no one. Again, he was alone. Just him and a corpse. What should he do with it? It felt wrong to just leave it here.
The stabs of pain coming from his side made him tear his gaze from the body. His wound was bleeding again — half the stitches had come loose. Crap. He held his hand against the hole, trying to stem the flow. He needed something to wrap it. Feeling both guilty and ashamed, he pulled the shirt off the man’s body and wrapped it around his chest, tying its ends together to hold it in place.
He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at the body. Eventually, the urge to get the hell away overpowered the trance that held him in place. He paused at the door. “I’m sorry, really,” he said, even though there was nobody alive to listen. “I didn’t mean to. I was just . . . hungry.”
Stepping out of the building and back into the rain, Sparks hunched his shoulders and continued his journey. His hunger had left him. He dragged his feet through the puddles, freezing water sinking into his boots. There was no sign of the two men who had run away. He wondered if they would come back, and what they would think when they found their friend.
It’s wasn’t him that I was mad at, Sparks thought, he didn’t deserve to die. He quickened his pace, a newfound wave of energy rushing through him, formed from the beating in his chest. He had to get to the Haven. To Roman.
Roman was the one who really deserved Sparks’ anger.
20
Tan helped Roman to his feet. In the hour they had sat there, resting, Roman’s limbs felt like they had turned to stone. He no longer felt the cold, just an empty numbness. The drops of water running down his cheeks and dripping from his chin were barely noticeable. Roman clung to Tan until his feeling returned enough to support himself.
“So, where to, Boss?” Tan asked.
“The Mutt’s Tail. We need Caleb.”
“And Sparks?”
Roman grimaced. What was he going to do about the boy? Sparks would demand his own needle and Roman would rather cut off his own hand than give one to him. However, there wasn’t a lot of other options, and, unfortunately, Roman had already made the deal with Caleb. “We need him too,” he said finally.
“He’s gonna want—”
“I know what he wants. He can have it. If it helps our chances of getting back Ruby, I can’t say no.”
“And what about Spencer?”
They still needed Ashton Spencer, and he would be an easier target than Candle. But while catching Spencer might help save the city, it would do nothing to save Ruby. “Our first priority is Ruby. We’ll worry about Spencer after she’s safe.”
Tan nodded. “Not that I’m complaining, but, just in case you’ve forgotten, Spencer holds the secret to stopping the Adrenalites forever.”
“I know that.”
“So Ruby’s more important than the rest of the city?”
“Yeah.”
“You really do care about her, don’t you?”
Roman went silent for a long moment, when he finally spoke, the words came slowly. “It’s . . . more than that.”
“I knew it.” Tan clapped Roman on the shoulder, grinning. “I just wanted to hear you admit it. You’re finally being honest to yourself.”
“Bastard.”
Tan lifted his head, tongue out, lapping up the rain. Another crack of lightning ripped through the sky. Roman flinched. He just wanted silence, and a warm fire, and Ruby. But the world was in the mood to deny him.
They made slow progress through the streets. Four blocks on, two men ran past — the first they had seen since leaving the Haven. They looked in a rush to get wherever it was they were going. Roman thought of calling out to them, warning them to stay away from the Haven, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort.
“When we get to the bar,” Tan said, breaking their silence. “Do you reckon Griff would give us free drinks, on account of the fact we’ll probably all be dead within the week? I’m parched.”
Roman snorted. “Even if his entire bar was collapsing, Griff wouldn’t let you leave until you had paid the last credit.”
“True that. He is a stingy asshole.”
“But if you threatened to rip off that tie of his? He’d nearly faint and probably offer you his firstborn son.”
“He has a son? I didn’t think any girl would ever . . .”
“Just an expression.” Roman shrugged. “I never bothered to ask him about family.”
The streetlights remained dark. Roman suspected that whatever Caleb and Sparks had done to cut the power had been permanent. He frowned at the thought. That station provided power to at least three districts, losing it was a huge loss for the city. But, of course, Legacy had worse concerns right now.
“So, the real question is,” Tan said, “how are we going to convince Caleb to help us? It’s not as though we’re going to get paid for bringing Candle to Gavin.”
Roman ground his teeth. “Ruby’s in danger, that will mean something to him. Maybe. Hopefully.”
“If only his heart were the size of the rest of him.”
Roman’s foot caught on a crack on the pavement, hidden in a puddle. He stumbled. Tan’s hands grabbed him just in time to save him from falling. “Thanks,” he muttered as he regained his balance.
“Don’t sweat it, Boss.”
Roman kept a hand on Tan’s shoulder for support. “Why are you still helping me, Tan? You’ve made it clear that you think I’m a fool.”
“You are. You’re this city biggest, ugliest and angriest idiot. And so I guess staying with you makes me a lunatic.”
“You always were one. But seriously, why?”
Tan shrugged. “Do you remember what I was like when you met me?”
Roman did. All too well. “You were . . . a surprisingly effective thief.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it. I was an insufferable and hopeless drunk, too lost in my own misery to notice anyone else. You hired me anyway.”
“I was pretty desperate back then,” Roman said. “Not many people were willing to be recruited into the bounty hunting business.”
“Most people had something to lose.”
“Well, I’m glad you were hopeless and desperate enough to join me.”
“So am I,” Tan said. “I’ve gained something to lose: a friend. And friends don’t abandon friends, no matter what — that’s what my brother once told me.”
Roman blinked. “You never told me you had a brother.”
“I used to.”
“What happened to him?”
“Death happened.”
“Oh.” A long silence followed. Roman didn’t know what to say. Eventually, he realized there was only one thing he could say. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s his,” Tan said slowly. His usual grin was nowhere to be seen. “After our mother died, we were both pretty devastated. I feel into drinking. He chose to gamble. It was hard, but I reckoned it was okay, as long as we had each other to grieve with, you know?” He paused, and when he spoke again his voice shook. “Then he figured out how to make the grief go away: he slit his wrists. And then I had no one left to drink with.”
Again there was nothing else to say but: “I’m so sorry, Tan.”
“I’m okay.” Tan’s smile returned, but it lacked its usual warmth. “Now I’ve got people to drink with again.”
“And that’s why you stay with me?”
“Exactly. I don’t care about the rogues, or the Ministries, or the money,” Tan said. “All I care about is the night after each mission, when we sit at our booth at Mutt’s Tail and drink, together as a team.”
“Then let’s get Ruby back, finish the job, and celebrate with a glass of whiskey.”
“Make it five glasses, and you have a deal.”
They walked on, Roman still leaning on Tan. Neither of them speaking again until someone strode into view, a hundred yards ahead. Someone short, with arms too long for their body. Someone who glowed blue.
Roman stopped, paralyzed.
It was Sparks.
“Oh, shit.”
21
Even in the dark and the rain, Sparks recognized Roman’s heavy frame and Tan’s thin, lanky one. Ruby wasn’t with them. Sparks’ looked around, scanning the shadows, knowing just how stealthy she could be when she wanted. No sign of her. Good.
Sparks charged towards them. He heard himself yelling, not words, just a howl of rage.
Roman clung to Tan with one arm and he slowly raised the other. Sparks tensed, ready to dodge a bullet. But Roman’s hand was empty. “Sparks, wait!” he called.
“Shut up!” Sparks roared. “You lied to me!” They were only a dozen steps away now. Roman looked like shit, half his face a gruesome shade of purple. Tan stepped in Sparks way — he didn’t look much better.
Sparks shoved Tan aside and grabbed Roman by his coat, lifting him off the ground and throwing him into the air. He flew six yards, landing hard on the footpath. “You lied to me,” Sparks repeated, breathless, both hearts hammering. “You fucking asshole.”
Tan grabbed Sparks’ shoulder. “Calm down, he didn’t—”
Sparks pushed him away. “Stay out of this, Tan.”
Roman had crawled onto his knees, his hand reaching into his jacket. Sparks closed the distance in two leaps. He snatched the gun out of Roman’s hand and tossed it into the gutter. “I’ve already been shot once tonight. It won’t happen again.”
“Sparks, I—”
“So now you remember my name?” Sparks shoved his boot against Roman’s chest and pushed him flat against the pavement. “Not just a ‘kid’ anymore, am I?”
“No. You’re not. But—”
“Tell me you’re a liar.” Sparks moved his foot so it rested on the base of Roman’s neck. “Say it to my face.”
Roman scowled. “Fine. I lied to you. I was never going to let you have your own needle.”
“Well guess what? I took one anyway!”
“I don’t care, not anymore. Gavin has Ruby.”
Sparks blinked. “What?”
“He’s going to kill her if we don’t bring him Candle. You have to help us. Please. It’s me you’re mad at, not her. She always defended you.”
“I . . .” Sparks’ head spun. Ruby. She had always been nice to him, hadn’t she? And he had seen how Gavin could torture people. It wasn’t pleasant. Ruby didn’t deserve that.
No. He’s lying to me. That’s what Roman does.
“Why should I believe you?” Sparks demanded.
“You have to.”
Sparks shook his head. He wasn’t going to be fooled by Roman’s bullshit. Not again. “You can’t pretend you care about her,” he said. “You’re a heartless fucker. And I’m done with you.” He pressed his boot down harder.
“Please . . .”
Footsteps behind him. “Sparks, stop!”
Without turning, Sparks reached behind him and grabbed Tan. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He hurled Tan away. His shoulder flared with pain as the stitches in his bicep tore loose. Damn it, what was the point in putting them in when they came out so easily?
“Please.” Roman’s voice was so quiet it could hardly be heard over the rain. “Ruby—”
Sparks’ chest thumped a mad pulse, demanding blood. Roman’s blood. But he recalled the man that he had killed, not even an hour before, and the way his lifeless eyes had looked. He thought of the bitter taste that still lingered in his mouth.
Killing someone in a fight was one thing. Killing someone who was defenceless was completely different. Tonight, Sparks had done both. He knew which one made him feel alive, and which one made him feel like shit.
Sparks lifted his foot off Roman’s neck.
Gasping, Roman rubbed his bruised throat. Strangely, it was now that he looked afraid. As he should — he deserved to die. But Sparks wasn’t going to do it, not like this. Not without a proper fight.
“Why?” Roman’s voice was a hollow croak. Lying there, he looked so pathetic, so weak.
Sparks spat on him. “Despite what you think, I’m not a monster,” he said, turned, and walked away.
After that, he trudged through the deserted streets for a long time with no destination in mind, just the urge to get as far away from Roman as he could.
22
The next hour felt like the longest of Ruby’s life.
She had assumed the two thugs, Mark and Higgs, would have made a move on her as soon as Gavin left, but they just stood against the wall in an uncomfortable silence. Higgs had lit one cigarette after another and now the room reeked of rado-weed. Ruby’s rage at Gavin had dulled, leaving behind a constant anxiety that kept her awake and alert, even though she knew she should be exhausted.
It was Higgs who really scared her. The size of him, and the way he stared at her like a hungry dog.
Ruby glanced at the knife strapped to his belt. If he was stupid enough not to remove it before approaching her, she would snatch it and shove it through his revolting face.
A part of her wished he would come over now. The tension of waiting was killing her. Besides, she couldn’t afford to stay here long. Roman was probably already planning a suicidal mission to capture Candle. If she escaped and he was already dead . . .
She couldn’t let herself think about that.
“I need to piss,” she said, only half lying.
“Then piss,” Higgs responded.
Ruby scowled.
Five minutes later, she tried a different approach. “I’m still hungry.”
Mark glanced at Higgs. “I’m starving myself, to be honest.”
Higgs grunted. “Fine. Stay here.” He left.
Ruby couldn’t believe her luck. Now it was just her and Mark, and she was confident she could take him out if he got close. Of course, the machete in his hand was a threat. But she wouldn’t give him a chance to use it. Judging by Higgs’ last trip, Ruby only had about five minutes before he returned. And unfortunately, that chance was going to be wasted unless Mark made a move on her.
Hating herself, she said, “Just get it over with.”
“What?”
“I know what you’re going to do. So do it.”
Mark frowned at her.
“Well? What are you waiting for, your big friend to come and watch?”
“You can bugger yourself for all I care,” Mark said. “Just because I’m a mercenary doesn’t mean I’m a rapist.” He turned away and Ruby could almost believe she had offended him.
The one time a man in this cursed city shows any chivalry, and it’s him? Damn.
“Well, if you’re such a gentleman,” Ruby spat the last word, “then why aren’t you giving me the decency to at least piss outside?”
She saw the hesitation on his face.
“Do you like seeing me wet myself?” she mocked. “Is that what gets you off?”
He sighed. “Fine. But I’m not untying you. And you’re not leaving my sight.”
“So you are a pervert.”
“Shut your mouth. Now get up before I change my mind.”
Ruby awkwardly climbed to her feet. She took a deep breath to calm herself. Mark held his
machete defensively as he opened the door, motioning for her to go first.
She stepped into the cold rain, shivering. “Can I go somewhere less . . . exposed?”
“No.”
Ruby muttered angrily as she undid her belt and slid her pants down to her ankles. With her hands tied, it was impossible to do it gracefully. She crouched down and purposefully tripped over her own pants, falling into a puddle. She squirmed, struggling to pull her trousers back up. “A little help here would be nice.”
Mark frowned, uncertain.
“What? You never even touched a girl before? I won’t bite. Help me.”
Sliding his machete into his belt, Mark leaned down and grabbed Ruby by the arm, lifting her to his feet.
With all her strength, Ruby shoved her knee into Mark’s balls. He doubled over, gasping. She twisted out of his grip, spun behind him and looped her arms over his head. She pulled her forearm across his neck, choking him.
Predictably, his hand went to his machete.
“I wouldn’t do that if—”
He grabbed it’s handle just as Ruby seized his jaw and twisted. His neck snapped with a sharp crack.
Ruby let go and the body dropped into the same puddle she had fallen into a moment before. She felt sick. She had killed before, a dozen times, but only with her bow. Not up close like this. I didn’t have much of a choice, she told herself, but that didn’t make it feel any better.
She knelt and grabbed the machete. Its blade was dull; she had to rub her bonds against it frantically before they started to tear. They finally came loose, a second before she heard the first footsteps behind her.
She leapt to her feet, bringing the machete around in a defensive swing. Too slow. Higgs rammed into her with enough force to drive the air from her lungs. She crashed into the wall, pain lancing through her whole body. The machete slipped from her fingers.
Higgs’ fist caught her in the cheek. She hadn’t even seen it coming. Senses reeling, she tried to squirm away, but his forearm pressed against her chest, holding her against the wall. She tried to claw his eyes out. Higgs brushed her hands away like she was a child, then kicked her in the crotch. Fucking hell. Hurts for girls too.