Table of Contents
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
About Eden S. French
Coming from Queer Pack
Queerly Loving
Queerly Loving
Reintegration
Eden S. French
CHAPTER 1
Music droned beneath her, a sonic lure that held the promise of drinking, dancing, and sex. The crime lord who owned the club below was one of Lexi’s regular associates, and the bouncers never gave her any trouble, even though she caused plenty of it herself.
The distant music coaxed her down a hall plastered with posters from a bygone century: musicians long dead, films banned and burned, world tours to countries that no longer existed. She slinked into the lounge, blinked at the strobing confusion of the dance floor, and caught an incoming high-five.
“Yo, Lexi!” said the high-fiver.
Lexi squinted to make out the grinning face of the man who’d accosted her. He was a scrawny gangster with bad breath and a stupid nickname Lexi could never remember—the Cobra or the Viper, something dumb like that. “How you doing, Anaconda?”
“Viper.” The gangster—it was hard to think of him as the Viper, no matter how charitable Lexi might be feeling—scratched his tattooed cheek, his grin already replaced by a peevish frown. “C’mon, you knew that.”
Behind him, the dance floor teemed with shadows and bodies twisting together within a thick hum of bass. Colored light broke the darkness at erratic intervals, bright enough to spill into the lounges and dapple the faces of patrons drinking and chatting in booths and on couches. Any of them would be more interesting company than this guy.
“Sure, I knew that,” said Lexi. “Tell me, is your girlfriend here tonight?”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s here.”
“What’s she look like?”
The gangster’s grin returned with enhanced smugness. “Tall brunette, black minidress. She’s got the tightest ass in the city.” He made a cupping gesture with both hands to emphasize the tightness of the ass in question.
“I’ll bet she does. Where’s she at?”
“Over by the bar with… Oh, hell no. Lexi, don’t you hit on my girlfriend. Don’t you fucking do that to me. Come on.”
Lexi smirked. “Later, Mamba.”
She strode toward the dance floor, ignoring the gangster’s increasingly desperate protests. Of course, she wasn’t really going to hit on his girlfriend—unless he wasn’t exaggerating about her ass, in which case all bets were off—but he had good reason to be worried.
As she crossed the seedy carpet of the lounge, heads turned and appreciative gazes lingered. Lexi slowed to a cocky saunter, giving her admirers all the time they needed to soak in the view.
She’d never gotten the hang of humility, and who could blame her? Her handsome features drew attention wherever she went, as did the way she wore her hair—dyed snow white, gelled into loose spikes and shaved on the left side. Of course, clothing mattered too. Tonight, she’d matched a dark leather jacket with a white dress shirt and a clinging pair of black jeans that flaunted her narrow hips and long legs.
The scents and sounds of the dance floor enveloped her. The haze of cheap perfume and body odor she could have done without, but the music had the kind of sensual rhythm that made hips move of their own volition.
Tempting though it was to stop and wiggle, Lexi wasn’t the kind to dance alone, and she pressed through the mass in the direction of the bar.
It was busy tonight; every stool occupied and the bartenders struggling to keep up. A bouncer waited nearby, a fist in a suit with another ridiculous nickname—the Shark, or maybe the Dolphin, who the hell knew?
As Lexi neared the silver curve of the bar, the Marine Animal advanced toward her, moving with all the speed of a shifting continent.
“Lexi,” he said. “You know our boss has been looking for you?”
“Is that right?” Lexi folded her arms as the bouncer lumbered to a halt. “Why doesn’t he just call me?”
“He’s looking for you.” It seemed the big guy wasn’t interested in the finer details. “That’s all. Wants to see you as soon as possible.”
“I’ll get around to it.” Lexi looked up into the meaty slab of concentration that constituted his face. “What’s your name, anyway?”
“The Squid.”
Classic. Among all the city’s gangs, the Menagerie was definitely the stupidest. “Why? Because you’re good at escaping from little plastic mazes?”
“He wants to see you. Just remember.” The Squid slunk back to his corner and stood there wrapped in idiot menace.
Whatever his brain-dead employer wanted, it could wait. Lexi descended upon the bar, and a chorus of excited voices greeted her.
“Lexi!” A fragrant, wobbly young woman caught her by the arm and stared into her face, blinking at manic speed. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Not for long.” Lexi eased the woman’s hand from her wrist. Damn drunken, grabby clubbers. “Do you usually sway on your feet like that?”
“My friend is here!” The clubber indicated a group of equally inebriated young women clustered at the end of the bar. “Her boyfriend broke up with her. We’re drinking to cheer her up.”
Lexi steadied the clubber, who was tilting at an alarming angle. “And how’s that working out for you?”
“It’s awful!” The clubber leaned closer, exhaling alcohol and exuding perfume. “She’s really upset, and we don’t know what to do!”
“Who are we talking about here?”
“Her! My friend!” The clubber pointed to a dazed young woman wearing a yellow party hat. It had slipped to her forehead, giving her the appearance of a mournful unicorn. “I promised to cheer her up, but it’s not working. We bought her so many drinks, yet she just sits there.”
It was unlikely Lexi had ever met this unsteady, babbling person, but it didn’t matter. She thrived on this kind of spontaneous entertainment.
“I’ll take care of it.” She patted the woman on the shoulder. “Leave her to me.”
With one glance, Lexi identified the heartbroken girl’s first problem. Far from commiserating, her friends were making the most of their night out, drinking and giggling while the girl watched them in a resentful stupor. Lexi’s augmented senses picked up the emotions spilling from her—traces of grief, anger, and envy, diluted by the effect of the alcohol.
“Hey, girls.” Lexi reclined against the bar and rested a heel on the wood-textured plastic. “Having fun?”
“Hi, Lexi,” said one of the women. Her shy voice was familiar, but as usual, Lexi had long discarded the name. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Lexi grinned. Can I buy you a drink? was the second-most-common phrase directed at her, just behind, Don’t stop. But she had to stay focused. She was here to perform a good deed.
“You should be saving your drinks for your friend here.” She placed a hand on the girl’s bare forearm. “I heard you had a bad day.”
The girl seemed lost for words, unable to do anything more than stare.
“It’s hard to believe anyone could be so stupid,” said Lexi, meeting her disoriented eyes. “Breaking up with a girl as beautiful as you.”
There it was—the first blush of the night. “Um.” The girl averted her eyes. “Uh.” The first stammer, too. No surprise. They usually came as a package.
“You shouldn’t sit here and just get drunk.” Lexi shifted the girl’s hat to the top of her head. “You’ll just feel worse.”
“I do feel worse,” said the girl. “I wish I’d never come.” There was a murmur of reproach from her friends, none of it convincing.
“Put the glass down and come dance with me. That’ll make it better.” Lexi extended her other hand. “Up you get.”
The girl grasped Lexi’s hand and allowed herself to be helped upright. By some miracle, she remained on her feet unassisted. She was attractive, albeit bleary, with a round, trusting face darkened by her petulant mood. If the evening went well, it was possible Lexi might even ask for her name.
They found their way to an open space at a safe distance from the booming speakers. The music had a sexy current to it, a sly, dirty rhythm buried beneath layers of dreamy fuzz. Just right.
Lexi took the girl by the waist and drew her in. “Oh,” the girl said, her eyes widening. “You want to dance close.”
It was cute when they were naïve. “I only ever dance close.” Lexi moved with the music, and the girl followed her lead, even resting a tentative hand on Lexi’s hip. “You have bad taste in friends, so I imagine your boyfriend was a loser too.”
The girl gave a nervous laugh. “I guess so.” She had become a dim shape illuminated by infrequent splashes of color, but her face, upturned and wondering, was visible enough in the ambient light.
The music suggested they dance slower and a little closer. Lexi obeyed. The grip at her hip tightened as the girl’s breath came more quickly.
“You’re really good-looking,” the girl said. “My boyfriend was handsome, but not nearly as handsome as you. You’re like pretty-handsome, you know?”
Lexi smiled, and the girl blushed again. “Yes, I know.”
“Um.” The girl’s other hand finally made contact, resting upon Lexi’s shoulder. “I’ve never done this before.”
“You’ve never danced before? Then your boyfriend really was a loser.”
“No.” The girl giggled. “I mean, I’ve never danced like this with…” She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and looked away.
Lexi placed her mouth by the girl’s ear. “Maybe it’s a night for trying new things.”
The quick breath that followed was all the confirmation Lexi needed. She caressed the girl’s waist and hips, traveling a body hidden beneath tight fabric, and the girl slid her own hands to take hold of Lexi’s behind. They pressed close, the girl’s eyes bright beneath her lowered lashes, and followed the alluring rhythm.
As she danced, Lexi contemplated the girl’s lips, which glistened with crimson lipstick. Not yet, but soon enough.
* * *
“Alexis? Alexis Vale?”
Lexi ignored the voice, too busy with the warm mouth moving against her own. She pushed the girl further into the booth, still kissing, and stroked her thigh. The girl broke the kiss, gave Lexi a look of glazed satisfaction and returned to kissing again.
“Alexis.” It was a young woman’s voice, steady and insistent. “Please. I need to talk to you.”
Who the hell was this, and why didn’t she have the sense to wait her turn? Lexi pulled away from the embrace, leaving her companion to pout in the corner of the booth. “I’m a little busy here,” she said as she turned.
Her irritation immediately gave way to curiosity. The arrival wore a blue, gold-buttoned overall. Either she was a shut-in or, for whatever kinky reason, had chosen to dress like one. Her black hair had been swept into long bangs concealing the left side of her face, which was quite pretty—slender features, golden skin, mono-lidded eyes and a serious expression betrayed by the nervous twitching of her lips and the blush burning all the way to her neck.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” The shut-in studied the glossy tips of her boots. “But your life is in danger.”
“Go away,” said the girl huddled in the booth. “She’s mine.”
The shut-in took a deep breath and raised her head again. Despite her obvious anxiety, her clear green eyes were resolute. “My name is Mineko. I’m not leaving until I’ve spoken to you.”
Lexi was having a good time, and it was well on the way to being upgraded to excellent. But a shut-in in a place like this? Too unusual to ignore.
“Give us ten minutes,” said Lexi, touching her companion on the wrist.
“But Lexi…” The girl’s eyes glistened. “Are you going to run off on me?”
“Of course not.” Lexi took the girl’s hand and kissed her fingertips, prompting an anxious smile. “Ten minutes, sweetie.”
The girl gave Mineko a dirty look before sliding out of the booth, smoothing down her skirt and staggering in the direction of the bar. Lexi shifted across the couch and patted the cushion. After a second of hesitation, Mineko seated herself on the other end.
“Okay,” said Lexi. “You have my attention. But if this is just a ploy to steal me away, forget it. I make a point of not ditching my girls.”
“No. Nothing like that. I’m here about Project Sky.”
“What is that, a cocktail? You want me to buy it for you?”
Mineko frowned. Seemed she was a typical shut-in, no sense of humor. “It was a failed Codist cybernetics project. They wanted to find a way to read people’s minds.”
Ah, fuck. So that’s what this was about. Lexi took a cautious look around. Everyone nearby seemed too occupied with drinking and dancing to be prying. “No wonder it failed. I mean, mind-reading. That’s some superhero bullshit, right?”
“The prototype chip found its way into the districts.” Mineko seemed to have lost her nervousness, and she held Lexi’s gaze. “People knew it was lethal, that everyone implanted had died. But every now and then, somebody would take the risk. And they’d die too.”
That was hardly news to Lexi, and she certainly wasn’t going to grieve over it now. “Tragic. Your point is?”
“There are rumors about a working implant. Just one. A unique cyborg.”
Unease squirmed in Lexi’s stomach. She laced her fingers behind her head and feigned a smile. “Fun story.”
“Alexis, the project has been re-opened. My people know you exist, and they’re looking for you in order to understand why their first attempt failed. If I can find you, so can they.”
“First, call me Lexi. Second, how can you know any of this? You’re just a kid. How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty-two. But that’s not relevant. I know for a fact your life is in danger.” Mineko slid nearer. “Does it really work?”
As much as Lexi preferred to keep her advantage secret, it was hard to imagine a more harmless creature than this earnest, anxious shut-in kid. Besides, it seemed she already knew more than Lexi did. “Sure, it works. But I don’t advertise it. It’d be bad for business.”
“Do you have other augmentations? Or just this one?”
The kid’s awed tone was endearing, and Lexi smiled. “Reflex and vision. One in the brain, one in the spine.”
“Can you tell me how Project Sky works? How you do it?”
“Depends on the person. I find looking somebody in the eyes is the best way to focus. Sometimes I have to get close, even touch them. Other times I can pick things up from a distance. Everyone’s different.”
“Can you tell what I’m thinking now?”
This little thing was so sincere, it was impossible not to want to play with her. “If you give me permission.”
Mineko no
dded, and Lexi looked into her attractive green irises. “I don’t feel anything from you yet.”
Worry drew a crease on Mineko’s forehead. “Is that good or bad?”
“From your point of view, good. It means you’re harder to read.” Still staring into Mineko’s eyes, Lexi drifted deeper. Shadows clouded her peripheral vision as the first elusive traces of feeling appeared before her. Doubt, anxiety… The strands slipped from her grasp, and her drifting stopped.
“Damn,” she said. “You’re tough.”
Mineko gave a quick series of blinks. “Did I do something wrong?”
“It’s not your fault. Let me touch your face.” Lexi placed a fingertip on Mineko’s cool forehead and focused again on her eyes. Mineko’s thoughts hummed around her, threads of interconnected memory permeated by varying heat and uncertain motion. The inarticulate canvas of a mind.
Lexi skimmed across its volatile surface. “You’re afraid,” she said as she touched upon a cold emotion gnawing at its neighbors. Another emotion jittered by, and she latched onto it. “And excited, too. You didn’t really think this would be possible.”
A warm, vibrant emotion hid behind the others—buried purposefully, it seemed. Lexi leaned in, and the sensation burned brighter. She chuckled. “And you’re a little turned on.”
The emotion heated further. “You couldn’t be more mistaken.”
Mineko’s thoughts were becoming scattered, and Lexi frowned. “Relax. You’re throwing me off.”
Mineko took a deep breath, and her agitation settled. Lexi moved through stray ideas, idle impulses, and discarded memories while she hunted for the freshest thoughts, the ones most polished by a day’s mental wandering. Impressions washed over her. Tapping through a digital tablet in search of notes, the calm voice of someone lecturing. The first principle of Codism is…
“You’re a student at the shut-in University.” Faces in motion, smiling and laughing. Cutting across a lawn to avoid a group of chattering young women. Eating alone. “You’re a loner. Because…”
Lexi focused. Deferent visitors, an immense house behind gates, people staring, whispering. That’s her. That’s the Tamura girl.
“Your parents are important, powerful. That makes you different. The other students fear you—”
Reintegration Page 1