Play at Soul's Edge

Home > Other > Play at Soul's Edge > Page 18
Play at Soul's Edge Page 18

by Sophia Amador


  Now, Bonner was in way too deep. If he was ever caught, he would go to jail. Not to mention some of the things he had seen—things that indicated there was much more going on at Schwartz Pharmaceuticals than he had ever suspected.

  He was afraid that sooner or later, someone would think Hyman Bonner had seen too much.

  Adrian

  Adrian noted Bonner’s distress, but the night guard seemed under control. Adrian’s careful planning was paying off. He walked into the synthesis lab and put on a lab coat. 1:30 AM. He had a long night of work ahead of him.

  He went straight to the computer and typed “schwartz.” When queried for the password, he paused a moment, musing, then typed in a string of characters.

  The screen remained blank for an instant.

  Then it displayed the login message, and he smiled.

  He pulled up several documents and log files of previous experiments. He paused briefly as he came to a directory containing drafts of the paper Keisha had mentioned earlier. The research for that paper had been performed almost entirely by him. Schwartz and Holman had led him through the work, encouraged him to work with the chemicals that would lead to more addictive precursors. They had promised him that the credentials the purely academic research would generate would lead to a better future, help him get into top colleges.

  But when it came time to get it published, Holman had insisted that they put his name first as the senior scientist. Adrian shrugged. That hurt his pride, but the smart move was to let the slight pass. And indeed, it ended up better that no one knew of his hand in the work.

  That research did indeed have a connection to Rapture. The cops were too stupid to understand the chemistry, but the reagents described in that piece of research were precursors for Rapture. After the work was completed, Schwartz had half-jokingly proposed that they use it to prop up the faltering sales of his company.

  Adrian, seeking to expand his influence, had offered his services as a distributor. It had all happened very quickly after that. Schwartz had many contacts in the drug subculture, shady dealers and slimy lawyers who were more than willing to provide extra-legal services for inflated prices. Adrian had found that his own gang had rapidly become overextended with the influx of demand for the new drug.

  Overly eager to increase his own power and wealth, he had struck deals with people he shouldn’t have.

  Schwartz was at the top of that list.

  And now… Adrian stared at the blinking cursor on the screen. Were his mistakes impossible to fix?

  He pulled up a shell script from his own directory, keyed in several file names, and set the script running.

  Leaning back, he watched as his program ran and text flashed on the screen. The system-level script continued with its work, inserting some files, deleting others, and adjusting modification times so that several timestamps were set back by a few months.

  A set of emails appeared, and Adrian frowned, pausing the output and scrolling back to read them more carefully. He pulled up the attached news article and studied the comments.

  His eyes widened, and pain and fury coursed through him.

  20

  Elisa

  CURLED UP ON HER COUCH with her laptop, Elisa read her half-finished essay one more time and grimaced. It sounded dull and pedestrian. How was she ever going to get into a good college if she couldn’t even write a coherent essay? All her ideas sounded so trivial. But she didn’t want to get into the depths of her family difficulties—not in a college essay that strangers would read.

  “What’s wrong?” Adrian murmured in her ear. “Not going well?” His breath danced lightly over her earlobe.

  Pushing the laptop away, she slid her hands along his forearms and slipped her fingers into his.

  Adrian had been working on his laptop at the other end of the room. They had gotten in the habit of spending evenings together in her apartment three or four nights a week, since her mother was gone for so long. She wasn’t really sure why he had switched from wanting to go out to clubs and fancy restaurants to insisting that they stay at home and hang out together, but she wasn’t complaining. Being alone with Adrian was more fun than she’d ever had in her life, no matter what they did.

  He had decided she needed to learn self-defense. It was silly; he was being overprotective. But she couldn’t deny she found his protectiveness a little sweet. Every few nights, despite her protests, he taught her simple hand-to-hand combat and the basics of defending herself from attackers, right there in her living room. He had even taken her to a firing range to teach her how to shoot.

  “Adrian, I don’t want to learn how to use a gun! I never want to hurt another person.”

  “Even if they attack you first?”

  “Maybe I should turn the other cheek.”

  But Adrian was insistent. She supposed it was the world he lived in, where guns and knives were part of everyday life. She ended up going along with it. Adrian could be very persuasive.

  Plus she had to secretly admit that self-defense practice was surprisingly erotic. Especially when he pinned her against the ground or the wall, his powerful body pressed against hers, his scent in her nostrils, his arm wrapped around her throat. Was she a bad person to love it when he overpowered her with his casual strength, when he wrapped his long fingers around her neck?

  “Now, you do remember how to get out of a headlock, Elisa, don’t you?” His arms enveloped her, warm steel and satin, and she inhaled deeply just so she could breathe in his scent. His hair brushed against the back of her neck, his deep voice vibrating along her skin. He held her so securely, his muscles like heated iron, always exactly at the limit of what might hurt her. Such control. Such potency. Oddly, she felt safe rather than threatened. She trusted him on some primal level, even though she knew he was dangerous.

  Maybe she was crazy.

  Her mind went blank. She clumsily swiveled to one side and swiped ineffectually at his balls.

  He sighed. “No. That’s not going to work. And then he’ll just attack you like this.” A flurry of strikes came at her face; his leg looped around hers and she was thrown flat on her back on the couch, his torso heavy across her hips, his leg draped casually over her, his face only inches away from hers, hair falling in his eyes.

  A tiny smirk curled her mouth. She deliberately licked her lips and cocked her head. He stared at her for an instant.

  “You’ll be the death of me, Elisa. I came here to work and somehow you always entice me into bed.”

  “I entice you?” She rolled her eyes. “Somehow I think it’s the other way around.”

  “Let’s finish your essay, and then we’ll get to work on more enticing.” His grin was cocky as he stood up. He reached over and handed her the laptop.

  She groaned but opened it up. “I can’t seem to get this essay right.” She frowned at the screen. “It sounds so boring. I wonder if I’ll even get accepted anywhere.”

  He sat down so his hip pressed against hers. “Let me see.”

  She moved the laptop away from him. “No. It’s too embarrassing.”

  A playful light entered his eyes. “I could help you with it.”

  “It’s supposed to be my own work.”

  “You surely don’t think all those rich kids with ten-thousand-dollar admissions counselors take that seriously?”

  “Adrian, please don’t get started on that. You know it’s important to me to play by the rules.”

  “But Elisa, you’re deliberately putting yourself at a disadvantage. Haven’t you heard about legacy preferences and other advantages for the rich at the Ivy League schools?” He stroked her hair, fingers combing her scalp. “It’s well documented. If you give a large enough donation to Yale, you get in automatically. If you’re on the polo team, you can get into Harvard as an athlete regardless of your scores. How many poor kids play polo in high school? Despite the lies the college admissions officers tell, there’s a systematic bias in this country to only admit the elite. I’m not making
it up.” His voice started to vibrate.

  “I know. I know.” She smoothed her hands over his face. “I read a couple of articles about it. But it wouldn’t feel right if I got in using any of those tricks.”

  “Don’t you want to go to college with me?”

  “I just want to get in fair and square.”

  “Don’t you understand that there is no ‘fair and square’? If you don’t play the game, you simply won’t get in.” He took her hand in his, brushed his lips over it. It tingled unreasonably. “I’ll miss you.”

  She drew her hand away. Adrian planned on getting into Harvard, and had already submitted his early-action application. He would be hearing from them by the middle of December, but he seemed to be confident that he would be one of the eight percent admitted to the most elite school in the United States.

  Worse, he had hinted that he had somehow done something to make certain that he would be admitted, and that he could do the same for her. What disturbed her most was that she was tempted. She knew that a good college education was the only way she’d have a chance to become a biochemist. And she needed a full ride. Her mother had told her there was no money for college. She was supposed to go to work after high school. Although she enjoyed her part-time job at the bakery, she didn’t want to work there for the rest of her life. She wanted to learn biochemistry, to put her ideas into practice, and it was depressing to think certain doors might be closed to her simply because she didn’t come from a family with money.

  Ever since Adrian had admitted to her that he was a gang member, that he was doing something involving synthesizing illegal drugs, he had been letting slip all these hints about other illicit operations he was involved in.

  He delighted in breaking the law and defying moral codes. It made him feel that he was putting something over on all those people who had more than he did. He hated the fact that he was a mere high school student, and a poor one at that. He craved status and power, and would do anything to get what he wanted.

  Now he wanted Elisa. But what did she want?

  She lifted her head. “I’ll apply to Harvard, and to a couple other Ivy League schools, even though I don’t think I have a chance. But I don’t want to go there, really. I want to go to MIT, to study biochemistry.” She admired the research of one of the professors there. He was conducting groundbreaking studies on disease and aging, and she wanted to be a part of it. But it was so difficult to get admitted.

  “Of course I’d rather you came to Harvard with me. But MIT isn’t so far away. We could get an apartment together.” His eagerness made her want to cry. Realistically, what were the chances they would end up at universities in the same city? If she even got in anywhere she could afford.

  She didn’t want to spend any more time on those kinds of thoughts.

  She lowered her gaze. “If I get in, we can think about it.”

  His hand crept around hers. “You could live with me even if you didn’t. I’d be happy to pay for an apartment for both of us.”

  Could she just stay with him, living off his ill-gotten gains? She shook her head. “I want to be with you, Adrian, but I need to be in school. Working is really important to me. I don’t want to just be your arm candy.”

  He gathered her hand in both of his. They were warm and all-encompassing. Hers felt small and cold. “Of course, and it matters to me that you want to use your brain.” He caressed her hand, and a glint appeared in his eyes. “You have to let me help you. Just to even the playing field, nothing more,” he said. “I promise I won’t give you an unfair advantage.”

  She pulled away. “No.”

  “Are you sure?” he teased, a wicked sparkle in his eyes.

  “I’m positive. And I don’t want you to do something and not tell me. Promise me you won’t do anything to help me, even to ‘level the playing field’. Promise,” she insisted.

  He pouted. “All right, if you say so, I’ll be good.”

  She shook her head at the mock-sorrowful expression on his face, slammed the laptop shut and slid onto his lap, plunging her hands under the silk of his shirt, feeling his abs ripple beneath her fingers. “Come on,” she said. “Let me show you I’m not all good.”

  A smirk twisted his lips. “Now, that’s more like it.”

  Keisha

  Keisha fell into step with Ben as he walked home from school one chilly November afternoon. He’d stuffed his hands in his pockets against the cold, and he had deep circles under his eyes.

  “Hey,” she said.

  He gave her a sidelong glance but did not change his expression. “Hey.”

  “You look like things aren’t going so well.”

  “The clinic’s been swamped with overdose cases. I’ve been up late every night this past week helping out my dad.”

  Keisha prided herself on her judgment of people. All her instincts told her that despite Ben’s history of delinquency, he wasn’t a gang member. His father ran the local free clinic, and he obviously cared about the suffering of others. She just couldn’t see him being involved in the manufacture or sale of Rapture. Involving a minor went against police procedure, of course. But she had already gone so far off the rulebook.

  “Ben,” she said. “How much do you want to help stop the spread of Rapture?”

  Elisa

  Elisa slammed her locker shut with extra force. Far too many tests in a single day. To top it off, it was sleeting and gray, which meant a cold, windy walk home. She whirled away from the wall. Someone was standing right behind her.

  “Oh! Sorry—” she began before she recognized him. “Adrian!”

  He gave her a slow, lazy smile, lashes lowered beneath his glasses. He put one hand on the wall by her face and brought his lips to her ear. “I have a present for you.”

  Her annoyance faded as she drank in the warmth of his body. He had one hand behind his back and a huge grin on his face. With a flourish, he brought out a bouquet of lilies, waxy and white with deep red throats, topped with a narrow box.

  They smelled fantastic, luxurious and heady; their rich scent made her nostrils tingle. “But—what’s the occasion?”

  He laughed. “Do I need an occasion to give the special woman in my life a present? It’s the two-month anniversary of our first date, Elisa.” He brushed his lips over the top of her head.

  She felt like such a jerk. Weren’t boys supposed to be the ones who forgot anniversaries? “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Never mind,” he said. “Why don’t you open the box?”

  She glanced around the crowded school corridor. “Right here?”

  With a laugh, he bent, slipped one arm around her and scooped her up. She stiffened and squeaked as he trotted down the hall. He shouldered open one of the classroom doors and carried her over the threshold. Once they were alone, he combed his fingers through her hair and kissed her deeply.

  She finally pulled back, gasping. His eyes were lidded as he drew away. “Open it,” he commanded.

  She laid the lilies on the desk and unwrapped the box, removing the tissue paper to reveal a long envelope. Sliding her finger under the flap, she removed a glossy brochure and a printed cardboard slip. “What—what is this?” She flipped the brochure over. The Atlantis Hotel, a resort in Nassau.

  He laughed at the baffled expression on her face. “I’m taking you on a vacation to the Bahamas.”

  “W-what do you mean? When?”

  “This weekend,” he said. “Do you like your present?”

  The brochure dangled from her fingers. “Don’t we have school?”

  He stroked one finger along her cheek. “You’ll only have to miss one day. I already got us both passports. We’ll leave Thursday night and return Sunday night. First class airline tickets. That’ll give us three full days in a warm and sunny paradise. We’ll get away from all this dark and cold.” He moved closer. “What do you say?”

  “It sounds wonderful,” she said doubtfully, “but I’ve never be
en on an airplane before.”

  He bent his head to hers. “You are going to love it.”

  21

  Elisa

  ELISA CLUTCHED THE ENVELOPE and the lilies to her chest as she ran down the stairs to her next class. Such an extravagant gift. She had never heard of going to the Bahamas for a weekend. It was romantic that he wanted to celebrate their two-month anniversary, but the scale of the gift terrified her. It was the sort of thing you’d do for a honeymoon.

  Maybe.

  If you were rich.

  Just how much money did Adrian have? Spending money on a few fancy dinners was one thing, but a vacation like this had to cost thousands of dollars. How much was Tenebras paying him? She shivered.

  “Hey!” Sumiko called as she stepped into Elisa’s path. “What’s been up with you lately? We haven’t seen you anywhere.”

  “We’ve missed you,” said Chloe.

  “I’ve been in school every day. What’s to miss?”

  “You’re always eating lunch alone with Adrian these days and neglecting your friends,” Sumiko said.

  A wave of guilt washed over Elisa. “I’m sorry. We’re both so busy with school it seems there isn’t really much time to spend together.”

  Sumiko scrutinized her face. “What’s wrong? You look so distracted and worried.” Her eyes fell on the lilies. “And what’s this? Flowers? Nice!”

  Elisa lifted the bouquet and gazed at it as though puzzled. “Adrian gave them to me for our two-month anniversary.”

  Both girls grinned widely at that. “Aww, that’s sweet,” said Sumiko. “He’s so romantic, isn’t he?”

  “But what’s wrong?” pressed Chloe. “Why aren’t you smiling?”

  Elisa stared at them blankly. What could she say? Adrian had warned her of the importance of keeping his membership in Tenebras a secret. Obviously she couldn’t tell them that he had invited her on a wildly extravagant vacation. But she could tell them he wanted to go away with her for the weekend. As a matter of fact, she had to let them know, or they would wonder where she was.

 

‹ Prev