by Jami Gray
Not looking away from the screen, her fingers flew over the keyboard. ‘Waiting.’
‘For?’
She hit a few more keys and finally gave him her attention. ‘Echo.’
Above them the lights flared bright, then settled back into their sub-par glow. A sharp curse erupted from the booth behind him, drawing Ruin’s attention. Twisting to look over his shoulder, he found an older couple huddled around a monitor with disgruntled expressions. Since the monitor faced him, he could see the blue screen with a jumble of white text.
Next to him, a shift of weight and the warm press of her hand against his shoulder preceded Charity’s low explanation. ‘Bet the power surge fried their motherboard.’
Turning, he found her kneeling behind him, but he lost her touch as she resumed her previous position. He resettled and laid his arm along the back of the bench above her shoulders. ‘Who’s Echo?’
‘Echo’s how we find the Raiders.’
‘You’re using a code monkey to track down Raiders?’ He shook his head. ‘Hate to break it to you, but it isn’t the 2010s anymore. Using antiquated technology to track someone’s movements is virtually useless.’ A round of cheers from the cluster of gaming consoles interrupted his words. He flicked a hand towards the group of backslapping teens. ‘This is what technology has devolved into, stealing electricity to play video games. Hell, there isn’t much of a—what do you call it? Interweb?’ Her mouth opened but he talked over her. ‘Whatever they called that electronic network, for them to even tap into anymore.’
She shifted until she faced him, amusement evident in her voice. ‘First, it was called the internet. Second, you may not have noticed, but underground clubs, like this one, have managed to rebuild a fairly large network despite having to syphon off their surrounding communities. Third, contrary to the obvious appearance, it’s not all about video games.’
She grabbed his chin, directing his head until he was staring into the corner a few booths down where a woman, wearing red-framed glasses strewn with rhinestone and elaborate pigtails animatedly talked to a burly man in a cotton button-down shirt with matching tie. The computer sat off to the side, unused, yet the mismatched couple continued what appeared to be a very serious conversation. Even from here, Ruin could see the frown creasing the man’s face as he furiously wrote on a notepad in front of him. Only when the woman said something did his frown disappear, to be replaced by a relieved smile. Charity’s fingers let go, and she leant in. ‘Watch.’
The man made a few more notes, interspersed with nods. Finally done with his writing, he laid down the pen and offered his hand to the woman. They shook. The man gathered his notebook, set something on the table, gave the woman another smile, then disappeared into the gloom of the room.
Charity leant in close, and her breath brushing against his ear, the intimacy of it left chills racing over his skin. ‘Untraceable information is why we’re here.’
He opened his mouth and turned his head only to stop when he came face to face with Charity. He stilled as their gaze caught and held. She was so close he swore he could feel the heat of her blush as it crept over her cheeks. Her bright gaze drifted to his mouth, her tongue darting out in that nervous tell he was beginning to crave. His earlier hunger roared to the fore with a vengeance. It wasn’t his brain doing the thinking when he lifted his arm from the back of the bench to curl around her, his hand sliding under her braid to cradle the base of her head and slowly bring her those last few inches closer so he could kiss her.
Her balance compromised, Charity’s hands rose and flattened against his chest. She didn’t fight his hold but leant in, her gaze centred on his mouth. Taking her hint, he didn’t waste time with preliminaries but captured her lips with his. Taking advantage of her small gasp, his tongue breached the unintended opening and made the most of it.
God, her taste! Intoxicating heat edged with an exhilarating bite, much like the woman herself. It didn’t matter who she worked for, why she was there, why he was there, all that mattered was gorging on this delectable feast she presented. Trust for Charity the operator might be in short supply, but when it came to Charity, the woman, he wanted, no needed to indulge. Maybe then he’d feed this damn hunger, gnawing its way into his very bones. He nipped and teased as she met him stroke for stroke. Some faint part of him noted the bite of her nails against his chest as her hands curled into his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Thank god this desire wasn’t one sided.
One of her hands drifted down his chest to rest tantalisingly close to his aching dick. He refused to stop kissing her but growled low in his throat. A wordless command. Just in case she missed it, his other hand covered hers and began moving it where he wanted. Before he could get her on target, someone cleared their throat. Loudly.
He squeezed her hand, then let her go, but took his time pulling back from the scorching kiss. A beleaguered sigh sounded behind him. Not to be rushed, Ruin slowly uncurled his hand from Charity’s hair, deliberately stroking along her jaw and brushing his thumb over her kiss-swollen lips. Amusement and lust glittered in her eyes as she held his gaze.
She eased back but didn’t break eye contact with him as she addressed the person waiting behind him. ‘Took you long enough.’
‘So you decided to give the club a show?’
Her gaze finally left Ruin. ‘Jealous, Echo?’
‘Yeah, maybe, if you’ve changed your mind.’ There was a trace of truth in the grudgingly given reply. Enough it got Ruin’s attention.
He turned to look at the woman who stood at their table.
Chapter 15
‘Sorry, sweets.’ Charity blinked and gathered her scattered wits as she was left staring at the back of Ruin’s head. ‘Still not leaning that way. Promise you’ll be the second to know if I do.’
Brightly painted lips formed a moue of mock disappointment below the garish glasses before Echo winked at Ruin. ‘Promises, promises,’ she chided. She slid in on the table’s other side, taking time to smooth her skirt under her as she sat, her elaborate pigtails swaying in time to her movements. ‘Who’s your friend?’
Charity gave her time to settle, waiting until the other woman’s shrewd gaze came back to her before picking up the conversation. ‘Ruin.’
Under the precisely cut dark bangs, an eyebrow rose above the rhinestone rim as she studied the silent man. She made a tsking noise, then, ‘Not your normal type, Charity.’
Charity didn’t bother stifling her snort. ‘I don’t have a type, Echo.’
‘I beg to differ.’ Echo rested her elbow on the table and one teal blue nail, filed into a sharp point accented with a winking faux diamond stabbed the air. ‘Rough-edged.’ Another finger rose. ‘Silent, brooding.’ A third went up. ‘Built for dirty, dirty deeds.’ She leered openly at Ruin before her hand shifted so she could rest her chin on her palm. Her speculative gaze went right back to Charity. ‘Hate to break it to you, honey, but that constitutes a type.’
Charity found it difficult not to think about the things associated with ‘dirty, dirty deeds’, especially considering who she sat next to, but by some miracle she managed not to squirm or look at Ruin. ‘Not here to discuss my personal life.’
‘Sadly, you never are.’ Echo sighed dramatically as she twirled the end of one pigtail around her finger. ‘Since you won’t indulge me, why don’t you ask me for what you need?’
Charity wasn’t fooled by Echo’s flippant demeanour. Past dealings proved the existence of a calculating mind, one that veered more towards the electronics she played with than the humans manning the keyboards. Charity braced before asking, ‘What’s it going to cost me?’
The hair twirling stopped mid-spin and, like a shark scenting bloodied water, Echo flipped the switch from flirtatious to business. ‘Normal scale applies. The more likely I am to get burned for sharing, the deeper you’ll be digging into your pockets.’ Her gaze flicked to Ruin and came back to Charity, predatory interest vying with an edgy curiosity. ‘Is this personal or
professional?’
Charity leant back and felt Ruin’s arm slip from the back of the booth to wrap around her shoulder. A silent warning on oversharing, maybe? Not that she planned on giving Echo any more than the barest of details. When up against money, trust was MIA. To throw Echo off of the true nature of Charity’s business, she shifted until she was tucked under Ruin’s arm. Now they presented the image of a united couple. She gave Echo a bland look. ‘Does it matter?’
Watching Echo’s internal struggle between her need to pry and her love of payment play out, Charity had no doubt of the eventual outcome. Echo never turned her nose up at lining her pockets, be it with city credits or favours owed. Sure enough, wasn’t long before Echo gave in. ‘Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll give you two questions.’
Ruin shifted against the cracked upholstery but didn’t let Charity go. ‘What does painted horses mean to you?’
Puzzlement swept over Echo’s face. ‘You have a fetish for decorating poor animals?’
Deciding to cut Echo a little slack, Charity added, ‘If you were visiting from out of town and wanted to stay off the grid, where would you go?’
Echo frowned in thought. ‘I could bring up a fairly long list using that criteria alone. You need to narrow the parameters.’
Understanding that Echo needed something more than an obscure reference to work with, Charity gave what she could. ‘Maybe a place a visitor could find without relying on the locals for direction? Private and out of the way would be non-negotiable. Easy access and easily defendable.’ Because whoever the Raiders planned to meet, wouldn’t want to be seen with them. ‘Could be the name connects with painted horses? Maybe some sort of statue or carving? An old street name? Something that used to be known for horses?’ The last was a stretch, but the wider their net, the more likely they were to actually catch a damn clue.
Echo stilled for a moment, staring off into space. ‘Maybe.’
At Echo’s pensive answer a familiar buzz of anticipation took flight in Charity’s gut. ‘Maybe what?’
Echo sat back, the lens on her glasses turning opaque under the string of decorative lights. She nabbed one of the unused napkins on the table and began shredding it into confetti. Finally, she spoke. ‘It’s a damn long shot, but maybe the Carousel.’
‘Carousel?’ Ruin’s question shot out like a bullet.
Echo gave a slow nod, absently arranging the napkin shreds into a neat pile. ‘If I remember my history right, it was some lame attempt at bringing tradition back to the area.’ Her nose wrinkled as she gave a puzzled shake of her head. ‘Not sure how erecting an amusement ride in the middle of nowhere generates tradition, but then again, a lot of decisions made before the Collapse don’t make sense. I mean, really? Who, in their right mind, thinks creating super viruses or dumping tons of poison into the air is a bright move?’
Charity decided it was best to cut in before the other woman got lost in one of her well-known rants on the idiocy of society before Mother Nature and natural consequences bitch slapped humanity back into line. ‘The Carousel, Echo?’
Echo stopped, blinked, and then blew out a breath. ‘Right. Talk about a throwback. That place was ransacked decades ago. It sits out on the other side of the river. Not like there was much there to start with. Some buildings, fields, and I think there used to be one of those shopping centre monstrosities. I mean, it’s in the middle of nowhere, so it fits some of your criteria. What do you want to know?’
Who the hell the Raiders were meeting with? But Echo wasn’t a miracle worker, and Charity gave up on miracles a long damn time ago. ‘Anything still standing out there?’
Echo shrugged. ‘Dunno. Haven’t been out there in years. Last I remember there were a few buildings that might pass for usable. If you’re desperate enough.’
Depending on the payoff, the Raiders wouldn’t care if they were meeting in the middle of hell. Unfortunately, the Raiders wouldn’t be the only people holing up in the ruins.
‘No-one’s using them?’ Ruin pressed.
Echo narrowed her gaze. ‘Like street rats?’
He nodded.
Nice to see Ruin following the same line of logic, because that was one group who might be desperate enough to take a chance on their lives in exchange for shelter.
Echo took a moment to think it over. ‘It’s possible. It’s far enough outside the city limits no-one would give a damn who crashed there. Anything of value was stripped forever ago.’
‘You got directions?’ At Echo’s nod, he grabbed a napkin and shoved it at her. ‘Map.’
Surprisingly the other woman didn’t snap back, but slipped her fingers under the edge of her top and pulled out a pen. Guess that was as good a place as any to stash your writing utensils. She began to sketch out the directions.
Under the protection of the table, Charity gave Ruin’s thigh a brief squeeze. If this Carousel place was such a relic, then they wouldn’t face much in the way of security. That was the good news. Time to figure out where the bad news would come from. ‘Riverman mean anything to you?’
Echo’s pen stilled before resuming its scratching over the paper, but Charity didn’t miss the minute shift in her posture or her quick swallow. ‘Riverman?’
Oh yeah, it meant something. Charity waited her out. It didn’t take long.
Tucking the pen back in its home, Echo flicked the paper back to them. Then she braced her forearms on the table and leant in, lowering her voice. ‘Considering how long we’ve been business associates, Charity, may I suggest you and your man be careful where you toss that name at?’
Charity’s stomach knotted at the unsettling seriousness on the other woman’s face. She ignored the ‘your man’ part as her uneasiness replaced the lingering warm fuzzies from her earlier encounter with Ruin. ‘Why do you think we’re here?’
The tension in Echo’s expression eased a bit with Charity’s response. ‘Always knew there was a solid brain in that skull of yours, girl.’
‘You’re stalling,’ Ruin cut in, earning a glare from Echo. Undaunted, he kept going. ‘Who is he?’
She held his gaze, her mouth pressed into a mutinous line. On the table, her hand curled into a fist, then slowly relaxed. ‘He is River Man.’ She separated the name into two parts. ‘It’s the only name used around here. Mainly because those who go fishing for more end up face down in the river.’
Charity stifled her urge to chime in with some mocking quip about obvious naming conventions. Pressed as close as she was to Ruin she couldn’t miss the rise of tension as his muscles coiled. Yet none of that was visible in his casual question. ‘What’s his specialty?’
‘He’s the Broker.’
Again with the emphasis? Charity didn’t remember Echo ever being this much of a drama queen when it came to business. Yet something about the name scratched at a memory she couldn’t quite catch. ‘That doesn’t tell me much.’
Echo was shaking her head. ‘No more, Charity. I gave you your two answers, and I like breathing.’ She shifted in her seat, her voice harsh. ‘Payment, now.’
Charity didn’t miss the flash of fear Echo tried desperately to hide, but it wasn’t enough to stop Charity from pushing. Taking her time, she pulled away from Ruin so she could reach into her pocket, and then dug out the agreed upon payment. Holding the two thin squares of credit between her thumb and forefinger, she extended them. The other woman’s arm snaked out and latched on, but instead of letting go, Charity held tight and kept her voice low. ‘What does he broker, Echo?’
She tugged unsuccessfully on the credits as the flash of fear brightened into a burning flame. Finally, she hissed, ‘Anything if you can afford it.’ Charity let go, but Echo wasn’t done. ‘But rest assured, even you can’t afford him.’ With that parting shot, she got out of the booth, the credits disappearing as she smoothed down her skirt. Finding her footing, in more ways than one, Echo studied them, some unreadable emotion slipping through her wary gaze. Her mouth opened, but before any words escaped, a shout cu
t through the electronic din.
‘Raid!’
The one-word warning hit the room like a bomb. Gamers scattered like rats on a sinking ship, abandoning their electronic conquests as they raced for exits. Ruin slipped out of the booth and offered Charity a hand. Echo’s attention was on the entrance hall, but Charity couldn’t make out who or what she was staring at because the club’s lights began a seizure-inducing dance. Echo turned on her heel, her intent clear—escape.
Charity snagged Echo’s wrist, keeping her in place. ‘Exit?’ She pitched her voice to be heard over the racket.
Echo yanked her hand free and spun, heading for the back wall. With Ruin’s hand in hers, Charity followed, keeping the other woman in sight. The only reason she trusted Echo to lead them out was because Echo had no more desire to be ‘detained’ by whoever served as the local authorities than they did, and arguing with Charity was a one-way ticket to certain detainment. Echo stopped at the back wall, reached out and touched something, triggering a section to slide free, exposing a dark opening. Echo slipped into the shadows, leaving them to follow.
The narrow space left Charity hugging the wall as she squeezed past Echo, who waited until Ruin ducked inside before closing the escape hatch behind them. With the opening sealed, the darkness was complete. Normally comfortable in the dark, the suffocating confines gave Charity the willies. Something brushed over wood and gave a sharp snap, before a feeble greenish glow sparked, adding a macabre cast to Echo’s face. She raised the glow stick above her head and pointed beyond Charity. Charity turned to face the unrelenting darkness. Guess they were going forward.
A tap on her shoulder brought her head around to find Echo offering her an unbroken glow stick. Charity took it as Echo squeezed by to take the lead. Igniting the stick with a snap, Charity looked back to find Ruin hunched over, his shoulders skimming the sides of the hall. A muffled shout seeped through the wall, sending Charity scrambling to catch up to Echo, Ruin on her heels. The narrow passageway ended at what resembled a metal shaft. Raising her glow stick, Charity turned in a slow circle, looking for a ladder or another door. Nothing.