We cleared the hall, veering down one empty corridor after another. Brody picked up speed, but it was too much. He sent me tripping over the hem of my dress to land hard on my knees and I heard fabric tear. I cried out in surprised pain, my eyes watering. He yanked me up again, looking like he might rip the offending dress right off me and throw me over his shoulder. His grip eased. The second it did, I yanked my wrist free and backpedaled away.
“Stop dragging me around like a sack of potatoes!” I screamed at him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you even here?”
“I’m here because you need to get away from this place before it’s too late and I’m the only one who can keep you safe,” he snarled, grabbing for me again. “Not Petriv, not Vieira. I mean it, Felicia. Only me.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s happening! Safe from what?”
“Take another step with her, you die. Touch her again, you die. I’ve had enough of you. This ends now.”
Alexei. He appeared behind Brody, less than ten feet away, so calm and cold, it would have terrified me if I didn’t know him. Brody let out a frustrated sigh, looking like he wanted to be anywhere than where he was.
He turned to Alexei. “I don’t have time to deal with you, especially not when it’s your fault this shit-storm is even happening. You’ve put Felicia right in the middle of your goddamn mess, and you don’t have a clue how to get her out of it. Get the fuck out of my way and let me clean up this disaster before she winds up dead. She’s coming with me because at least I know how to keep her safe. It’s more than I can say for what’s happened to her on your watch.”
Alexei’s eyes narrowed. “I think I finally see what Konstantin wanted to achieve in bringing you here. I should have realized what you were when I couldn’t access your memory blocks, and left you to rot in your cell. My mistake. One I won’t repeat once I permanently remove you from her life.”
“You can try, but I doubt you’ll succeed. You’ll lose her the same way you seem to be losing everything else.”
“Brody, what are you talking about?” I demanded.
He ignored me, eyes fixed solely on Alexei. I had a feeling they were fighting over me, but not. That the antagonism ran deeper than jealousy, descending to a rivalry so basic and primitive, I didn’t fully understand it. I may have been the catalyst and the spark that started this, but there was much more at stake than I could see.
In that moment, I don’t think I existed for either of them. Everything else dropped away except for the two of them facing off against each other. I merely served as the audience, watching the conflict unfold. Then they were charging toward each other down the hallway. Alexei was on Brody first, landing a series of solid punches I couldn’t follow. Surprisingly, Brody absorbed the blows and followed with his own hits. It sent the two of them sprawling and grunting down the corridor as they fought, exchanging punch after punch. Neither man went down, both giving as good as they got. There was nothing I could do. I couldn’t stop them or make this insanity go away. I could only witness as the disaster unraveled.
Then I heard a familiar female voice behind me. One I couldn’t immediately place, but recognized nonetheless.
“How predictably boring. Men are such stupid creatures,” the voice said.
I turned and saw her. Novi Pazidor. Who’d come into my shop for a reading. Who’d tried unsuccessfully to kill me. I saw a syringe in her hand, barely registering it before I felt the pinch of pain in my neck. A few seconds later, dizziness hit and I swayed.
“You won’t need this where we’re going,” she said, pulling off my c-tex bracelet. Then she snapped it in half and dropped it. She gestured to someone with her, a man I hadn’t seen before. “Quickly. Take her.”
I felt him grab me, and couldn’t stop him. Couldn’t do much of anything really. But I could get dizzier. So I did. And apparently, I could pass out, so I did that too. Seemed like I was doing that all the time lately—getting drugged and passing out. Must be my new thing. How lucky for me. I wanted to tell Novi that—that I was lucky, and she’d better watch out. Too bad she didn’t seem to care. And frankly neither did I as I felt myself float away into nothingness.
I woke up in jail. Honestly, in fucking jail. Again. How many damned times in a person’s life could she be drugged and have the awesome displeasure of waking up in jail?
I sat up on my dingy cot, feeling like my mouth was stuffed with cotton. There was one dim overhead light in my cell, showcasing its three gray cement walls. The other wall was bars, and through it was another cement wall. The air felt cool, stale, damp, and smelled vaguely of mold. I wasn’t in my dress anymore. Instead, I wore a shapeless gray tunic and baggy pants. My feet were bare, but I found canvas slip-ons waiting for me. A quick check showed I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties. Someone had stripped me naked and changed my clothes. Fan-fucking-tastic. There was a toilet in the corner, but I noticed I didn’t have to go anymore, so obviously I’d pissed myself at some point. Even better. Worst of all, my c-tex bracelet was gone. I’d worn it every day since I turned twelve, and without it, I felt naked. Now I was basically a nonperson, less than no one. A true spook.
I couldn’t decide if I was scared, mad, or a blending of the two. I eased off my cot with its lumpy mattress and stood carefully. A check of the bars showed the lock was secure. No escape there. My cell had a window of thick, scratched-looking glass, woven through with mesh to making climbing out impossible. Still if I stood on my cot, I could see outside. Maybe I could get an idea where I was. So I stood and looked and realized I had just slid from anger into sheer terror.
Out my window, I saw a blue-green orb, so close it filled the entire view except the topmost left corner. There I saw the blackness of space. For a moment, I didn’t realize what I was seeing until Olympus Mons slid into view, its flattened caldera poking through the cloud cover and rising high enough to be seen from space. And as my head turned to watch until it sailed out of sight, that was when I screamed.
I wasn’t on Mars anymore. I was on Phobos.
Chapter Twenty-two
If I thought my screams would bring someone, I was wrong. Time passed, nothing happened, and I calmed down because I had no choice. I sat with my back to the window, arms looped around my legs, resolutely determined to avoid looking outside. I could only take so much. No need to kick-start a freak-out all over again.
So what did I know? Novi had kidnapped me. Her husband, or whoever, worked in the off-world mines and had a grudge against Alexei. The miners were rioting so I’d probably been taken as a hostage to negotiate a compromise; otherwise I’d be dead. However, this assumed Alexei wanted me back and that wasn’t a certainty. Not after the look I saw on his face when he’d launched himself at Brody. No, best not to dwell on that part.
Back to Novi. Obviously she had access to significant resources if she could crash One Gov’s charity gala, grab me, and stash me in a cell on Phobos. Somehow Brody knew about it and had attempted to save me. The end result—me on Phobos in jail. Why hadn’t he just told Alexei what he knew? Why couldn’t they have worked together to prevent this? And what kind of angle was Brody working for him to know I was in danger? Did he have some connection to Novi and the miners? I had too many question and absolutely no answers.
I swore and resettled on my cot. None of this made sense. Worse, I hadn’t run my cards in ages so I was completely in the dark. Maybe I wasn’t a hostage. Maybe I’d just been removed from the picture and I’d never leave this cell. No, I couldn’t think like that. Alexei would find me. I had to believe that or I’d go crazy. But did he know where I was? With my bracelet smashed, I was completely off the grid. All I could do was wait.
So I waited. And I dozed, stretched, paced, shook the cell bars just to be sure they were still locked, used the toilet, paced more, braided my hair, finger-combed it loose, rebraided it, and started the circuit over again. Out of sheer boredom, I looked out the window and could see Space Station Destiny anchored ab
ove the space elevator. I wondered how much time had passed since my abduction. Phobos circled Mars three times a sol, but also had its own rotation, enough to give the tiny moon its own gravity. How many times had Phobos orbited Mars so far? There was no way to know.
My first visitor came soon after that. Male, tall, and built like a brick, with short, dark hair and deeply tanned skin. It could have been Tru-Tan, meaning his skin had been artificially pigmented to protect it against the sun, but I didn’t think so. He carried a tray of food, and when he bent to push it through an opening between the bars and the floor, I noticed tan lines on his muscular arms. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t a miner. He didn’t have the pale, lanky look that came from spending a lifetime in low to zero-g and no time in the sun. This was guy was hired muscle.
Dinner was watery stew with sketchy-looking meat, a plastic cup of water, and a moldy bun. Disgusting, but I was hungry and who knew when I’d get my next meal? I picked off the mold and dug the carrots out of my stew because I’d never been a fan of anything orange. The water I gulped greedily, wishing I had more.
My guard watched me eat, following my movements. He was recording me—something I wouldn’t have realized if not for hanging out with Mannette Bleu’s human PVRs. Either someone was watching me via live feed, or I was being recorded and the images would be downloaded from his memory blocks later. I wished I had something clever to say, but my mind was blank. Whoever the intended audience was, I was determined not to give them the show they wanted. Instead, I ate my food with all the poise I could muster. When I finished, I kicked the tray back through the slot. Then I lay down and studied the wall, running my finger along its cracks.
I knew my visitor was still there. Moments passed until finally he spoke. “They want you to say something.”
Oh, did they? Funny how I couldn’t feel much more than tired apathy. Too bad they’d caught me in between panic attacks. I rolled over, raised myself on an elbow, and said, “My fiancé will probably kill all of you for this.”
Granted, I wouldn’t be so cocky later if they tortured me or cut off body parts, but in that moment, it completely summed up my disdain. Then deciding it was the ultimate insult, I lay down, rolled to my side, and drifted off to sleep.
I woke to hands dragging me from the cot. That, and an annoyed male voice I didn’t recognize.
“She really is a piece of work. Nothing but a spook but she’s got the whole planet in an uproar. Rise and shine, princess. Time for her majesty to present herself.”
Any other time, I would have dazzled my captors with a smart-assed comment for their enjoyment. However, I found that waking from a terrifying dream where I was locked in prison then rediscovering it was my new reality robbed me of the most basic comebacks.
I was placed on my feet in the ugly canvas slip-ons with my hands secured by unbreakable carbon ties. I shook my hair off my face so I could see what was happening. There were three other people with me—the asshole binding my hands who’d brought my dinner, the man who abducted me from the gala, and Novi. All wore black stealth gear and were decked out with a variety of weapons. They were clearly some kind of military unit, even Novi, who I’d once thought so young and naïve. Not anymore. She looked tough and merciless, making me wonder how I’d been so wrong about her. My cards could never lead me this far astray. I had to be missing something.
“Let me guess. The miners are hiring mercenaries to do their dirty work now?” I threw out, just to see what I’d hit. “They must be really desperate to get back at the Consortium if kidnapping me is their big plan.”
The asshole who’d bound my hands snorted a laugh. “As if they could afford us.”
What? I shot a look to Novi. “You’re not connected to the off-world mines?”
“Nice to see you’re follow along, princess,” said the asshole. He tapped the side of my head. “Was wondering if there was anything up in there.”
Novi smirked at me. “We’re connected. Just not the way you think.”
That shook me. “But your husband…”
Another smirk. “So much for being a big-deal fortune-teller. Guess you don’t know as much as you think you do.”
I knew I should have been worried about whatever was happening next, but having Novi smirk at me just pissed me off. I tried to remember the reading I’d done for her all those weeks ago. “Okay, so not your husband. But I know there’s a man controlling you, and you do whatever he tells you.”
“We’re all controlled by somebody, princess. Our somebody just happens to have access to a lot of gold notes.”
I blinked. Mercenaries? Someone had hired mercenaries to abduct me and stash me on Phobos? And Brody had somehow known and tried to prevent it. What the hell was going on?
“Who do you work for? Who’s paying you?”
Novi rolled her eyes like I was an idiot, then looked at the other two men. “Bring her. Let’s go.”
“At least tell me what happened to the baby,” I blurted out before she could turn away.
That seemed to catch her off guard. “Not really something you need to concern yourself with, is it?”
No it wasn’t, but her response did make me hate her. Well, I hadn’t liked her after she’d tried to kill me; this was just icing on the cake.
I was jarred from my thoughts as my captors jerked me down the hall by my carbon ties and past a row of cells, all empty. Then we went through a series of locked doors and the cells were full.
It was here where the reality of my situation staggered me: The Phobos penal colony housed the most violent and reviled criminals in the tri-system. Their lives were regulated by a special branch of One Gov’s AI queenmind that dictated all aspects of their pitiful existence. It was completely automated with little human interaction from the outside, because once you were on Phobos, the human race was meant to forget you existed.
The overhead lights were dimmed and the cells darkened to simulate night. I could hear light snores and heavy breathing as our little parade passed. However some cell occupants were awake and watched us with interest. Explicit sexual suggestions were shouted, so crude they made me cringe. I tried to keep my eyes forward, back straight, and not look as scared as I felt, but I don’t think I succeeded. Based on the catcalls, if I somehow ended up in one of those cells, it was unlikely I’d be heard from again.
“Why am I here?” I asked, tugging on my arms and digging in my heels. “How long are you planning on keeping me prisoner?”
No answer. Instead, I was yanked forward. My already aching arms screamed in protest and it took everything in me not to cry. Gods knew it wouldn’t help and I wasn’t letting these assholes know they were getting to me. Maybe it was time for false bravado to show up.
“I may not know what’s going on, but I know you’re going to fail. Whoever’s paying you and whatever your plan is, you won’t succeed. Everyone involved will die. I remember the final card now: the Tower. Everything you value in your life is shaking apart right now whether you acknowledge that or not.”
From the asshole: “Shut it.”
And to think he’d actually wanted me to talk earlier. Some people were never satisfied. For good measure, I threw in, “By the way, I’d like to add my predictions are never wrong.”
That earned me a punch in the face. Not a hard one, more like a close-fisted slap, but enough that my head snapped back, I tasted blood in my mouth, and felt pain—stinging and sharp—spread across my upper lip, nose, and cheek. I saw stars when I went down. Wow, if my gut could warn me about exploding bombs, you’d think I could get a heads-up about a punch in the face. Apparently not.
“You weren’t supposed to touch her,” one of the men said. I couldn’t tell who since my ears were ringing. “They wanted her unmarked.”
“Amateurs. That’s not how you get attention. You send back body parts and blood splatters, not pictures of her eating soup.”
“I’m going to edit it out.”
“No, leave it. Besides, she had it c
oming. I’ve wanted to do that for the past month,” Novi said, sounding angry. “Slap a web-compress on her and she’ll be fine. The orders were to subdue her. What does it matter how I did it? It’s not like she’ll leave here alive anyway.” A pause, then, “Someone pick her up. Make sure you record that part too.”
I was hoisted to my feet and thrown over someone’s arm. Novi made a disgusted noise as if this was somehow special treatment. All it did was make my head hurt and spike the awful throbbing pain in my cheek.
The rest of the trip passed in a blur of pain and shock. Whoever these people were, I was nothing to them, and when this was all over, I would be dead. They were going to kill me. I couldn’t get my brain to overcome the hurdle of that realization. Couldn’t even figure out how to come up with a plan. And my gut…Forget it. No help whatsoever. Where the hell was my luck gene now?
I was dropped in a pathetic heap on the floor, and that upset me too. I always thought I was tougher. After all I’d been through, I really thought I could handle myself better. In fact, it annoyed me I couldn’t. I tried consoling myself with a reminder that I was having a bad couple of weeks, but that didn’t help. Well, maybe being annoyed at myself was better than nothing. Maybe it was better than crying.
I looked up, wiping blood from my lip with the sleeve of my prison uniform, wincing at the tender feeling on the left side of my face. Directly in front of me, at eye level, were bent knees. Someone was sitting and I’d been dropped at their feet. I pulled back and refocused. A floating chair. Then as I thought about it for a bit because apparently I wasn’t at my most brilliant, I realized I was looking at a mobile-assist chair.
I tipped my head back to see Konstantin Belikov seated in front of me: my real life King of Swords. Gods, how could I have forgotten? That card had figured significantly in Novi’s reading. At the time, I assumed it meant something else and now…I almost laughed, but didn’t since the joke would have been on no one but me. The answer had been staring at me the whole time. I just hadn’t realized it until now. It had always been Belikov pulling the strings and controlling the game. Always that fucking Russian kingpin.
The Chaos of Luck Page 30