Reintegration

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Reintegration Page 20

by Eden S. French


  Amity’s cold voice rang out. “Get your hand off that knife, or I’ll gut you before your next breath.”

  Lexi swallowed hard, trying to keep cool through her alarm, while the gangsters shifted into aggressive poses, their hands moving to their various weapons. But Rusalka only laughed. “I knew straightaway you were the leader of the pack. So why aren’t you the one talking to me?”

  “Because you disgust me.”

  “Now there’s an attitude that’ll get you buried.”

  Amity curled her upper lip. “You have no right to dictate to me and threaten my people. Be glad I’ve even condescended to accept your invitation.”

  This was going well. “Hey,” said Lexi. “Maybe we should—”

  Rusalka drew the knife and flipped it. To Lexi’s disappointment, she caught it with style. Whenever some gangster tried that little flourish, Lexi always prayed for them to fuck it up, just for the comic value.

  “Here’s my offer,” said Rusalka. “If you can cut my other cheek, I’ll let you do whatever you please.”

  “Cut your cheek?” Amity took a vicious-looking hunting knife from the depths of her trench coat. “I’d rather slit your throat.”

  Kade winced, and Riva caught Amity by the arm. “Am, please,” she said. “Don’t make this worse. Just apologize.”

  “It’s too late for that.” Rusalka gestured to the gangsters behind her. Lexi braced herself for a swarm of scarred, bad-smelling thugs, but instead the gang withdrew several paces. “I have to say, you’re one crazy bitch.”

  Lexi sighed. Not that again. “Okay, that’s enough. Time out, you naughty girls.” She sauntered across the clearing and stood before Rusalka. “You are really fucking tall, did you know that?”

  Rusalka frowned down at Lexi. “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m the one hiding from the shut-ins.” The knife in Rusalka’s hand looked even sharper up close, but Lexi wasn’t fazed—she had a talent for negotiating with peculiarly violent people. “We aren’t staying long, so let’s make a deal. We’ll keep out of your way and you keep out of ours.”

  “She just promised to slit my throat!”

  “Nobody ever said we’d be friends. Just that we’d have an arrangement.”

  “And what’s in it for me? You have nothing I want, pretty boy.”

  It was cute when they made that mistake. “You’re wrong twice. I do have something you want, and I’m not a boy. Though I’ll give you this, I am very fucking pretty.”

  Rusalka chuckled. “Boy or not, you have balls.”

  “I have some info you’d appreciate too. Does the name Isaac Landon Hill mean anything to you?”

  “Lexi!” Riva’s shocked cry echoed through the scrapyard. “Don’t!”

  Rusalka’s smile exposed her canine teeth. “Go on.”

  “Stinky bastard about this high, right? Face like a puckered dog’s ass?”

  “Now you I can deal with.” Rusalka shot a contemptuous look at Amity and sheathed her knife. “Let’s talk.”

  “Lexi, you can’t do this,” said Callie, clueless as ever. “It’s wrong.”

  “Forget these guys.” Lexi pointed backward with her thumb. “They flatter you, they insult you, they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing. Me, I know how this works. A fair trade, that’s what we need here.”

  A quick probe of Rusalka’s mind confirmed that her suspicion had faded, replaced by enthusiasm for her coming revenge. “A fair trade,” Rusalka said. “Is that what you’re proposing?”

  “A deal from which we both come out richer. Of course, I’m assuming you’re the kind of gang boss that has her shit together and will negotiate with a broker like the leader of any serious fucking group would.”

  Rusalka glowered, but it was clear the point had been made. “All right. Give us Isaac and you can stay.”

  Now for the twist. “I don’t think so. He’s worth more than that, given all the shit he stole.”

  “Well, what? What else do you want?”

  “You have anywhere we can sit down and talk? More private, maybe?”

  Rusalka glanced at her gang. “Sure. You can bring one person.”

  Considering the rough crowd assembled, that was a no-brainer. “Come on,” said Lexi, gesturing to Riva. No response, just a reproving look.

  “Go with her.” Amity pushed Riva forward, and Riva stumbled before falling into a reluctant walk. “Don’t take too long, Lexi.”

  “I’ll take as long as I please.”

  “We’ll go to the gang shelter,” said Rusalka. “It’s on the other side of the yard.” With her index finger, she began to single out individuals from the gang. “You five. Stay here and watch these people. You, come with me. The rest of you disperse.” The gang slouched off, minus the five lucky sentries and a burly woman with a face coarser than sandpaper. She joined Rusalka and treated Lexi to a perfectly charming death stare.

  Lexi smiled back. “Lead on, beautiful.”

  * * *

  The gang shelter turned out to be an ugly shed nestled between mounds of junk. Inside was a makeshift bar with unsteady-looking furniture built from scrap. Unlabeled bottles were arranged behind the counter. Most likely, their contents had been brewed in a barrel by some enterprising thug.

  “Odd choice for a bodyguard,” said Rusalka. “Injured already.”

  “That’s how you know she’s lethal,” said Lexi. “Only one good hand, and I’d still trust her with my life.” The joke did nothing to shift the reproachful look from Riva’s face. “Hey, mind if me and her have a moment?”

  Rusalka swiped a bottle from behind the bar. “If you have to. We’ll be in the other room.” With her hulking counterpart close behind her, she strode into the adjoining room and shut the door.

  Lexi faced Riva, whose expression was still accusing. Eventually, she’d be able to explain everything, but it still hurt to be misunderstood in the interim. “Babe, listen—”

  “Callie warned me about you,” said Riva. “And she was right. You don’t care about other people.”

  Fine. Lexi would take care of this now. “I’m not handing Isaac over, okay? It’s just the only card I have to play right now. Once I get Rusalka to myself, everything changes.”

  “How? How does everything change? What can you possibly do in here that you couldn’t out there?”

  “You’ll see for yourself. And you have to admit, Amity wasn’t helping.”

  Riva blushed. “I didn’t help much either. I asked her to let me start the negotiations, and look at what happened.”

  “It was a good speech wasted on dumb thugs. You impressed me, and that’s what matters.”

  In the brief silence that followed, the wind hissed overhead, rattling the corrugated-metal ceiling.

  Riva bowed her head. “Why did you bring me? I’m not any use to you.”

  “Because I want you close.” Lexi squeezed Riva’s shoulder. “We’re all going to come out of this fine. Isaac included. Trust me.”

  “Okay, Lexi.” A touching warmth softened Riva’s smile. “I trust you.”

  It seemed she meant it too, though God only knew why. “Let’s go, huh?”

  The shelter’s other room was a lounge furnished with busted couches sprouting rusty springs and pale stuffing. Rusalka reclined on a three-person sofa while her big friend stood sentry by the door.

  “Sit.” Rusalka gestured to the couch opposite her.

  Lexi obeyed and winced as a spring prodded her back. Riva sat down beside her.

  Rusalka swigged from her bottle, studied Lexi, and nodded. “Talk.”

  “There’s no rush.” Lexi sank back, only to be jabbed by another spring. It was a goddamned bed of nails. “You ever heard of Prince Vassago?”

  “I may rule over the back of nowhere, but I’m not ignorant.”

  “He’s a close acquaintance of mine.”

  Admiration flashed. “Are you telling me you work for Prince Vassago?”

  “He only works with the very bes
t, and there’s no broker better than me.”

  As Lexi spoke, she sifted through Rusalka’s thoughts. Most of her recent memories were violent, bloody ones, but a few were more to Lexi’s liking—the moaning, panting, licking, thrusting kind. It seemed Rusalka enjoyed a bit of vigorous fun with favored members of her gang. No preference as to gender. Helpful to know.

  “You’ve got an intense stare on you, girl.”

  “So I’m told. Anyway, Vassago’s real name is Samuel Brink. I call him Sammy. The occult thing he does, the blood and the skulls, it’s all just for show. I mean, why would he make a pact with the Devil? Next to Sammy, the Devil is a fucking saint.”

  “I’m not stupid. I know there’s no such thing as devils.”

  “But it works on plenty, doesn’t it? Sammy’s powerful enough that superstition begins to make sense. He didn’t get the idea by himself, either. Takes a certain kind of mind to come up with that.” Lexi shifted to a more relaxed position, her legs crossed below the knee. “See, your average gangster is just a violent reflex on legs. They need thinkers like me to fill that empty space. It’s only because of us this city isn’t in total anarchy.”

  “We aren’t a fancy inner city gang. Nobody out here stops to chat. It’s kill or be killed.”

  “I hear you.” Lexi extended her hand, and Rusalka gave her the bottle. Lexi took a cautious swig. Strong enough to blast a hole in the bottom of her stomach if she weren’t careful. “But it’s a question of attitude. If you want to run this district, you need to behave like you’re entitled to it. Disguise the fact you’re a ragged bunch of meatheads hiding in a scrapyard, looking like something out of a Z-grade apocalypse. Take this Isaac business, for example.”

  Rusalka’s anger flickered, but Lexi—who was still loosely entangled in the dark, slithering cloud of Rusalka’s thoughts—soothed the emotion before it could take hold. “What about it?”

  “Let’s say someone like Isaac stole drugs from Vassago. Used them all, fried his brain and vanished. What do you think would happen?”

  “Don’t ask me trick questions. I haven’t got time for that.”

  “To a kingpin like Sammy, a few drugs are nothing. A man like Isaac is worth even less. Say a cockroach nibbled at your dinner and then got away. If you were to hunt that cockroach, you’d seem pathetic. Like you were the kind of woman to lower yourself to seek vengeance on an insect.”

  “If someone crosses me, they have to pay the price. Otherwise nobody will respect me.”

  Lexi took another sip from the bottle. The alcohol stung her mouth. Hopefully, Zeke could hook her up with some new teeth afterward. For now, she needed to switch to a different kind of drug. “You have anything that doesn’t taste like it was brewed in a dead dog’s stomach? Maybe something small, about so…” With her thumb and forefinger, Lexi indicated a space the size of a tiny pill.

  “Yeah.” Rusalka took a pill bottle from her jacket and shook three orange tablets into her palm. Gold dust, judging by the shape and color. She popped a pill before handing the other two to Lexi and Riva. Lexi swallowed her pill, while Riva closed her palm around the other.

  “If you aren’t going to take it, just fucking give it back,” said Rusalka, and Riva, looking sheepish, forfeited the drug.

  Rusalka turned her attention back to Lexi. “What was your name again?”

  “Lexi Vale.” As was her habit, Lexi followed her name with a suggestive smile. “Just so you know, being on gold dust tends to make me horny.”

  Rusalka smiled as her gaze traveled down the full length of Lexi’s body. “Is that right.”

  It had been a gamble—some drugs messed with her aug, though fortunately gold dust wasn’t one of them—but it had paid off. Rusalka’s mind was rapidly becoming a fuzzy, slightly aroused soup.

  “Tell me,” said Lexi. “Do you think you’d get respect by smashing a cockroach? That people would be impressed, be frightened of you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “If you ask me, this whole Isaac thing makes you seem weak. Someone like Sammy, he’d just ignore it. He’d want everyone to see he’s too rich to care about a few drugs, that he has better things to do than stomp bugs. After all, it’s not like you can get your shit back, and a dead junkie is pretty lousy compensation.”

  “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Out here, somebody steals from you, you need to send a message to the district.”

  “Let Isaac scurry off, and you are sending a message. You’re telling the rabble you don’t waste time on nobodies.” Lexi grinned. “Did I mention you’re really fucking tall?”

  “In passing.”

  “I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to sit in your lap.”

  A slow smile parted Rusalka’s lips. “I’m not stopping you.”

  With measured grace, Lexi relocated to Rusalka’s lap. Rusalka put an arm around Lexi’s waist, pressing their bodies together and bringing their faces close—very close.

  “So you think I should forget about Isaac.” At this distance, Rusalka’s murmur was like sultry thunder. “That’s your fancy broker advice.”

  “That’s right.” Lexi nuzzled Rusalka’s neck. Her skin smelled of sweat and tasted like iron, and Lexi’s appetite stirred. “But what would I know? I only work for Prince Vassago. Contessa. The Red Huntsman. The Menagerie.”

  “Impressive.” Rusalka slid a hand up Lexi’s inner thigh. “But if you aren’t going to give me Isaac, what are you bringing to trade?”

  Lexi smiled as Rusalka’s hand reached her crotch. “For you? Anything.”

  The kiss was abrupt, intense and forceful enough to flatten Lexi against the couch. Rusalka weighed roughly two hundred tons, and her grip was so strong that it seemed suddenly plausible she herself had compacted all those cars outside. The second their mouths separated, Lexi drew in a much-needed breath.

  “It’s a tempting offer,” said Rusalka, still looming over her. “But if the shut-ins do show up, what then?”

  Lexi cupped Rusalka’s face. As their gazes locked, she slipped deeper into Rusalka’s mind. Not too deep, though—this wouldn’t quite be a manipulation. More like a massage.

  “Tell me who’s in charge of this district,” Lexi said.

  “I am.” A hint of offended pride stirred, and Lexi encouraged it to expand. “My gang might not look like much to you, but we’ve been on top for years. Everyone out here will tell you so.”

  “So you don’t answer to anyone?”

  “That’s right.” Rusalka kissed Lexi’s neck while squeezing her thigh. “I’m second to nobody.”

  Lexi glanced at Riva, who stared back. It was impossible to resist dipping into her mind and sharing the view from her eyes: a snowy-haired, androgynous temptress pinned under a female titan. Lexi licked her teeth while holding Riva’s gaze. Riva flushed, and a commanding sensation stirred between her legs.

  With effort, Lexi returned her attention to Rusalka, who in her lustful stupor hadn’t realized she was only a side attraction. “If you’re second to nobody here,” Lexi said, “you should be able to protect me from anyone.”

  Doubt rose, but Lexi flattened it, instead teasing out more of Rusalka’s pride and hubris. “The shut-ins have a lot of firepower,” Rusalka said.

  “You don’t rule a district unless you decide who lives and dies there. If you’re scared of a few shut-ins, you don’t deserve to lead a gang.”

  Indignation flared. Lexi extinguished it, leaving nothing but the shame of the insult. “Nothing scares me,” said Rusalka. “Nothing. You better remember that.”

  “Big words, yet still no promises.” The drug had given Lexi a light buzz, nothing too serious, and it was hard to keep from giggling. “I can’t believe you thought I was going to let you fuck me. I don’t fuck cowards.”

  “Watch your mouth,” said the gangster standing guard. Steel scraped on leather as she drew her knife. “Or I’ll cut another on your throat.”

  Rusalka averted her eyes. Lexi had conquered her mind, con
trolling each emotion as it came. “I told you, nothing scares me,” Rusalka said. “If I say you’re safe in this district, you’re safe.”

  Lexi leaned in. Rusalka moved to complete the kiss, but before their mouths could meet, Lexi instead placed her lips against Rusalka’s ear. “Then promise me I’m safe.”

  Rusalka shivered. “You’re—”

  A gunshot rang out.

  CHAPTER 15

  Tired of standing, Kade dragged a pair of plastic crates from the trash and flipped them. He seated himself on one and patted the other. “Take a seat.”

  Callie perched on the crate and rested her shotgun across her knees. “What about Amity?”

  Kade squinted through the noon light. Amity remained in the middle of the junkyard clearing, her arms folded and her back erect. “No point offering. She’d only say that sitting is for the weak.”

  Most of the gangsters had grown bored with playing sentry and had, like Kade, started relaxing on requisitioned bits of scrap. One pair, however, had chosen to stay on their feet. They watched Amity with the wariness of rabbits eyeing a wolf.

  Callie tugged down the brim of her cap, further shadowing her face. As usual, her eyes were thoughtful, two deep brown circles expressive of sensitivity and heartbreak. “Why is Amity so unfriendly?”

  A big question and only time for a little answer. “She’s suffered to the point she can’t get any relief except for when she’s hurting somebody else.”

  “So you feel sorry for her?”

  “No. I admire her a great deal.”

  Wind rushed through the junkyard, whistling over open bottles and setting trash rattling down the scrap piles. Amity turned and stalked up to Kade, her shadow stretching long behind her. “You’ve lowered your guard,” she said.

  “Nobody here is eager to fight, except for you,” Kade said. “What would you have done if Lexi hadn’t stepped in?”

  “I’d have taken care of it. In any case, she’s handling Rusalka now.”

  “Yeah, by selling out poor Isaac,” said Callie. “Someone should go back and warn him.”

 

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