The Devil You Know

by Kit Rocha

  But it was still seen as a weakness. The rot and greed and suspicion had seeped down from the Hill and poisoned the earth around Atlanta. No one trusted altruism anymore. Every generous offer from the TechCorps came with enough strings to strangle you and everyone you loved for a generation. It was the brick wall Nina had run up against again and again as they expanded their little library.

  They thought you were scamming them until they thought you were a pushover. And then they usually tried to rob you. Or kill you.

  “You don’t know how hard it was to earn even a little bit of trust in the neighborhood,” she told Gray, pulling him deeper into the warehouse. “No one knew what to make of Nina. I’m sure you can relate.”

  “I can.” Then Gray grinned again. “Imagine if Knox had known, though. He’d have been standing outside her bedroom window every night with flowers and a proposal scribbled on a piece of cardboard.”

  Maya huffed and shot him a sidelong look. “That would have been mildly preferable to the whole long-con-betrayal thing we’ve generously forgiven him for, on account of the extenuating circumstances.”

  “That road trip was fun. Admit it.”

  The thing was, it had been fun. Knox and his team might have lured them on the trip under false pretenses, but the enjoyment had been real. Breaking into pre-Flare movie theaters to see space battles play out against a massive, tattered screen. Camping in the woods with the crackle of fire and the scent of roasting turkey in the air. Even the torturous, sweltering night in the abandoned gas station when Maya had used the knowledge gleaned from dozens of mechanics texts to fix the industrial-strength fans.

  For two decades, Maya had lived a sheltered life on the Hill. She’d been ferried between penthouse floors in AirLifts and helicopters. She’d sunbathed on terrace gardens a thousand feet into the air. Her feet had quite literally never touched solid earth, because people who traveled in executive circles at the TechCorps rarely lowered themselves to walk among the rank and file.

  She could still number the times she’d been outside Atlanta on her fingers. Every memory was sharp and precious … especially the ones with the Silver Devils. Because their arrival had changed everything.

  Gray was watching her with that small, warm little smile. She couldn’t call his eyes Gothic or brooding today. They were blue and bright and glinting with an emotion so subtle she kept thinking she was imagining it.

  Mischief. She’d always known he had a sense of humor under those blank stares.

  “Don’t get cocky,” she advised him, stopping in a sheltered little niche. Two towering shelves overflowing with spare parts shielded them from the rest of the market. When she turned to face him, the breadth of his shoulders blocked out the rest of the world. Her voice came out breathless. “You don’t know how many forks I’m packing.”

  His reply came in a whisper. “I always assume that answer is enough to get the job done.”

  Goddamn. His normal voice was intoxicating. Having him whispering practically against her ear was enough to lay her out. Tingles prickled over her scalp and down her spine.

  “So,” he went on. “What are you after?”

  He wasn’t really talking about her shopping list. The plank beneath her feet wobbled. That vast ocean stretched out beneath her, the waves churning. Maya wet her lips nervously and took another step. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  There was that grin again. “No rush.”

  He’d say that. He’d keep saying it, even as the time he had left slipped away one minute at a time. Gray would sit there, as patient and unmoving as a stone, waiting for her to come to him.

  She couldn’t sit here, waiting for someone to give her a push. She had to close her eyes and leap.

  Her heart beating faster, Maya reached up to touch his cheek. His skin was as warm as she remembered, his jawline rough with the first hint of stubble. The contact shivered through her, too intense for something so innocent, but not bad. No, the warmth unspooling deep in her belly was the literal opposite of bad.

  “I’m complicated,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how much touch is too much.”

  “We’re not so different, Maya.” He closed his eyes and turned his face to her palm. “It can be complicated for me, too. There’s no right or wrong answer, there’s only … finding out.”

  She let her thumb sweep out to touch his mouth. Wanting pulsed in her, reckless and wild, the strength of it terrifying her. Control had always been central to her being. Toying with letting go in bits and pieces was one thing, but this …

  Oh, the fall would be so sweet. The crash might break her. The fact that she didn’t care scared her most of all.

  “Are you sure you want this?” she asked softly. “Are you sure you want me?”

  Gray’s eyes flashed, and he moved closer. He stopped carefully, painfully shy of touching her, then slowly pulled her hand from his face. Holding her wrist lightly, he dragged her hand down until it rested on his hard chest, just over his heart.

  It thumped beneath her palm, strong and reassuring. She licked her lips again, and the steady beat stuttered and picked up speed.

  His gaze was locked on her mouth. Her own heart skipped a beat.

  “I want you,” he rasped, “but I can wait. I will wait.”

  Nina’s voice drifted up from memory. For you, control likely is super important. But there’s more than one way to have control over yourself, and over your abilities.

  The only way to find out what she could handle was to try.

  So she leapt.

  Maya went up on her toes, bracing herself against his chest. His mouth was tempting, but bravery only went so far. She brushed her lips along his jaw, inhaling the now-familiar scent of soap and sawdust. Just a glancing kiss, before she let her heels thump back to the ground and hid her face against his neck.

  Their joined hands were trapped between them, and she could feel both of their hearts racing. She shivered and leaned into the solid strength of him. “I know you’ll catch me when I fall.”

  “No matter what.”

  Maya closed her eyes and let him hold her as the implacable wall of his body blocked out the chaos of the world. Maybe this could be its own sort of meditation … lulled by protective warmth, utterly safe as she matched her breathing to the steady beat of his heart. Her breaths slowed as it slowed, until she felt steady enough to straighten.

  His hand still gripped hers. She stepped back but kept their fingers twined together. “Want to help me find some tablets I can rescue?”

  “You’re in charge.” He lifted their joined hands to his mouth but barely grazed her knuckles with his lips. “I’m just along for the ride.”

  Her heart did a funny flip in her chest at the gentle promise in the words. And as she tugged Gray toward a shelf of cracked tablets, she decided Nina had been wrong.

  Kissing Gray would definitely make her brain explode.

  She might do it anyway.

  TECHCORPS INTERNAL EXECUTIVE COMMUNICATION

  From: RICHTER, T

  To: SKOVGAARD, B

  Date: 2077–012–11

  Given your obsession with personal security, may I inquire about your choice to appoint Simon to your Ex-Sec team? He is a literal child. I have hundreds of far more qualified candidates.

  From: SKOVGAARD, B

  To: RICHTER, T

  You may inquire. I’m under no obligation to answer.

  FIFTEEN

  “Put this one down at the other end, would you?”

  “Do we need knives or just forks?”

  “How many chairs?”

  “Eight.” Gray grunted softly as he and Nina set the butcher’s block island from the kitchen down at the end of the dining table. It was just the right height to extend the surface, but damn, it was heavy. “Luna and Ivonne went out, so it’s just us tonight.”

  “I count nine, then.”

  Everyone froze and stared at Mace, who was standing in the bac
k hall.

  “If that’s all right,” he added belatedly.

  “Of course it is,” Knox called from his place in front of the stove. “You’re just in time.”

  “A little late if you like bread, though.” Maya slid a basket with only a few slices remaining down the table until it rested near the butcher’s block. “Don’t tell Knox, but we’ve all been eating it warm before dinner and ruining our appetites.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Gray muttered. “I can still eat. It smells good.”

  “Tastes good, too,” Conall said, snatching up one of the final pieces. He ignored Maya’s chiding look and shoved half of it into his mouth.

  Rafe carried in a massive platter of Knox’s handmade spaghetti and settled it on the table. “It should smell good. That marinara has been simmering since we got back from the market. And there are meatballs, made from actual beef from actual cows. We are living the high life right now.”

  Gray hid a smile as he took a stack of plates from Dani. “Nina must really like them, if he went to all that trouble.”

  “Oh yeah, she does. Here, Rainbow.” Maya handed her a fistful of silverware. “Do you know how to set the table? Just put the knives and forks next to the plates when Gray puts them down.”

  Rainbow accepted the forks with the solemn nod of a soldier on a mission. She followed Gray around the table, dutifully placing a fork on the table precisely one second after he placed each dish.

  He set the next plate on the table upside down. When she looked up at him, startled, he made a face.

  The giggle that escaped her was bright, cheerful, and over too quickly. “You’re very silly,” she proclaimed.

  “Gray?” Dani asked dubiously.

  “Sometimes,” he allowed. “When I’m happy. That’s the best time to be silly, isn’t it?”

  After some serious consideration, Rainbow set a fork down next to the plate. Upside down. Her small face broke into a smile.

  Maya carried a full pitcher of sweet tea to the table and set it next to the icy pitcher of lemonade. Her gaze found his, and her smile was sweeter. Warmer. “I could get used to silly Gray. We’ll save a ton of money on the windswept moors and the haunted castle.”

  He rolled his eyes at her, but it was no use. Her smile only deepened, and his stomach gave a strange little fluttering flip.

  Rainbow poked him, and he realized he’d stopped setting the table. “Right. Priorities, kid. Got to get this done so we can eat.”

  Moving slowly, Mace slid into the same chair he’d occupied that morning—and Gray finally realized why he favored it.

  It was the chair closest to the door.

  Rafe came back to the table and started setting out glasses. Maya ducked under his arm to deliver a cutting board with a fresh loaf of bread still steaming from the oven. Nina appeared behind her with a wooden trivet, which settled in place in time for Knox to set down his huge pot of marinara and meatballs.

  It was a careful, coordinated dance, no different in some ways than a firefight or a building infiltration. Even Rainbow slid into it like an errant card into a shuffling deck. Only Mace sat outside of it, stone-still, his face a neutral, exact mask.

  It hurt to look at him.

  But not as much as it hurt to look at Knox. He watched Mace carefully as he circled the table, settled into the seat next to him, and unfolded his napkin. “You’ll have to tell me what you think of the sauce—”

  An ear-splitting noise rocked the room, something between the sharp crack of a pistol and a small-yield explosion. Gray ducked instinctively, curling his body over Maya’s. A moment later, his brain categorized the sound.

  “Just a car backfiring,” Nina said calmly. “I swear, these ancient combustion engines—”

  With a roar, Mace snatched up a dinner knife from his place setting and dove at Knox.

  The room exploded into motion.

  It all happened so fast. Rafe’s chair toppled over backward as he swept a wide-eyed Rainbow out of her seat. Knox rose to meet Mace, angling his body to take the knife in the shoulder instead of the throat.

  His grunt of pain galvanized Nina. She dragged him back, out of Mace’s reach, as a blur of red and white shot across the room. Dani vaulted over the table, slammed Mace against the wall, and followed him down to the floor.

  He roared again, rolling over to pin her to the hardwood. But she kept the momentum going, bashing into the scattered chairs as she flipped him onto his back again. Mace lay there beneath her, his chest heaving, his eyes slowly drifting shut.

  That’s when Gray saw the syringe sticking out of the side of his neck.

  Dani pulled the blue needle cap from between her teeth and blew out a breath. “Nighty night, Doc.”

  “Fucking hell.” Maya’s elbow poked him in the ribs, and Gray realized he was still curled around her. Her entire body was shaking, her breathing coming too fast, but she elbowed him again. As soon as he gave her a few inches, she scrambled out of her chair and surveyed the wrecked dining room.

  “Fucking hell,” she repeated. No sign of her trembling showed in her voice or the slightly outraged look she pinned on Dani. “Since when do you come to dinner packing goddamn tranquilizers?”

  Dani frowned, looking affronted. “Since we started needing them, obviously.”

  Maya threw up her hands. “Oh, obviously.”

  Nina looked up from Knox’s shoulder. She knew better than to remove the knife, but she’d packed a clean dish towel around it. “He went down like a rock. How much did you give him?”

  “Just enough to make it count.” Dani rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry, it was a carefully calculated dose based on his body weight.”

  Conall knelt beside a now-snoring Mace. He winced as he gingerly removed the syringe, then checked his carotid artery. “You’ve been carrying around a Mace-calibrated sedative? I honestly don’t know if that’s hot or terrifying.” The joke sounded forced, and worry lines bracketed Conall’s eyes. “Pulse is steady. He’s just out. That’s a less pressing concern than the knife in Knox’s shoulder.”

  “It’s fine,” Knox said, still watching Mace, his brow furrowed with concern. “Rafe can deal with it.”

  “Uh, no.” Rafe still had Rainbow balanced on his hip, one protective arm curled around her. “When we’re in a Florida jungle and there’s no help for three days, I pull knives out of you. When we’re in Atlanta, you shut your fool mouth and let Nina take you to an actual doctor.”

  Knox clenched his jaw and glared at Rafe. Rafe stared back impassively. After a moment, he opened his mouth.

  The bastard was actually about to ask Gray if he could handle this. With a piece of cutlery hanging out of his shoulder.

  Gray just managed not to slap his palm to his forehead. “We’ve got this. Now please go see the doctor.”

  Knox let Nina lead him away. Maya moved by rote, righting chairs and pushing them back under the table, as Rafe crouched to whisper something to Rainbow.

  Working together, Gray and Conall lifted Mace from the floor and, hooking an arm around each of their shoulders, carried him next door. He stirred a little, lifting his head to mumble something unintelligible.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so, pal,” Gray said soothingly. “It’s gonna take you a while to sleep this one off.”

  They maneuvered him into his small, stark room that still felt like a cell to Gray, stripped off his boots, and got him settled into his bunk.

  Gray hesitated, torn. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

  But Conall had already pulled up a chair outside the tiny room. “I’ll sit with him.”

  Back in the kitchen, things were back to something almost surreally normal. Rafe and Dani sat at the table with Rainbow. They’d resumed their dinner, undoubtedly for the girl’s benefit—someone had to make her feel safe, and fuck, she still had to eat.

  Maya was nowhere to be found.

  Gray kept walking, his feet taking him slowly but unerringly through to the warehouse space at th
e back of the building, where the ladies scanned books and processed food for freeze-drying.

  Maya was lying on the concrete floor, stretched out with one arm flung above her head and the other resting on her forehead.

  “Maya?” he said gently, even though he knew she’d be listening to music and couldn’t hear him. There wasn’t enough give in concrete for her to feel his approaching footsteps, either, and her eyes were closed.

  He reached out, froze with his hand just shy of her leg, then wrapped his fingers loosely around her ankle. She yelped and kicked out with her other foot. He ducked to the side, narrowly avoiding a thick heel to the nose.

  He released her, holding up both hands instead in placating surrender.

  “Shit!” Maya scrambled to her knees and tapped at her watch. She stared at him, wide-eyed for several fraught heartbeats, then let out a laugh that verged on hysterical. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry. You startled me.”

  “No kidding.” He nudged her foot. “You okay?”

  She twisted until she was sitting with her back against a pile of boxes filled with books. “Will you believe me if I say I’m fine?”

  “Probably not.” He shrugged. “I’m not.”

  Another tense pause. Then she patted the concrete beside her. “Wanna sit?”

  He very much did, so he lowered himself to the floor at her side. “You’re not freaking out?”

  She rubbed at her bare wrist absently, her gaze slightly unfocused. “I feel like a rubber band someone stretched as far as it can go. I keep thinking I can just … keep ahead of this. Outrun the memories. But you can’t, can you? You can’t outrun something that’s inside you.”

  “No. We all try, I think, but in the end…” They carried all of their scars, all their traumas with them, like battered, scuffed luggage patched with duct tape.

  Maya shuddered next to him and closed her eyes. “Twenty-three days,” she whispered. “That’s how long Tobias Richter had me. And I remember every second of it so clearly, sometimes I think it’s still happening.”

  She was still rubbing her wrist, harder with each passing moment, until she was nearly abrading the delicate skin. Maybe she wasn’t hyperventilating like before or lashing out like Mace, but she was still caught up in a nightmare of memory, a prison in her own head.