“That’s not normal,” Darius said, getting on his hands and knees to plug in the panel. “Especially since you’re doing it for someone else.”
“Yes, maybe you could check your contact. Find out if they can provide a small amount of money to pay for things that come up.”
“Really. Really?” she said twice when they just stared at her, Shiro from his spot casually leaning against the back of one of the couches, arms crossed over his chest and ankles crossed, Darius from his position on the floor, peering over the desk at her.
“Really,” Shiro affirmed.
“Because we need a way to communicate,” Darius explained. “And that costs money. And I don’t have anything in my bag of tricks because we usually destroy the communicator system when a job is over.”
Shiro twirled his cane and sauntered over to where Darius was working. “Yes, Holly. And you don’t know what else will come up that requires money.”
“Odeon, please tell her we’re not just making hilarious shit up to trick her. This is fucking serious business,” Darius said, getting back into fiddling with cables.
“I’m sorry, Holly. They’re right. You’ll have to deal with Xadrian again,” Odeon said.
“OK. Great. No, look. I got this. I’ll call my contact. Handler. Whatever you guys in this business call whatever Xadrian is.” Holly pulled out her small communicator and found Xadrian’s number. This sucked. Calling Xadrian about this was really going to blow. She didn’t want to talk to him, at all, and now she had to ask him for something. She skulked to a corner overlooking the bar through the window to get away from the conversation Darius, Shiro, and Odeon were now having. She dialed Xadrian’s number. He answered immediately.
“What is it, Ms. Drake?”
“Oh, hey. Hey,” she said, startled. “I didn’t think you’d answer so quickly.”
“Well, I have, so hurry it up. What can I do for you?”
“So I took the job, right?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“And I’ve got a team.”
“Fabulous,” Xadrian said, sounding bored.
“And it’s been brought to my attention that we might need, er—”
“You might need, what? What is it?”
“Certain things. Tools . . . For, communication. And other things. I’m not sure yet, of everything that we might need. This is my first job. Right? You knew that, Xadrian. So, right, I’m a rookie. Don’t take advantage of that,” she felt herself getting bolder. “I need several thousand novas. That sounds like a likely number, to get this job done right.”
“Several thousand?” Xadrian repeated. It sounded like he was staring at his nails, pondering what she’d said so far.
“We have no idea what trouble we’re going to run into. I think it’d be safe to estimate twenty-thousand novas.”
She heard some scraping noises and a loud clang. More shuffling sounds. “Sorry. Dropped my communicator. If there was someone here to laugh with me, I’d be making jokes at your expense right now, Ms. Drake. Of course, I think you’re sincere, however, twenty thousand will not happen. I can spare you five thousand. Spend it wisely. Time is ticking. Come by the Glassini wine bar in an hour to pick it up.”
She flipped her communicator shut.
Shiro sauntered over. “I heard you. That was good. Well done. What did he say?”
She turned to him. “He’s giving me a small fraction of what I asked for.”
“Still, that’s a success.”
“Where is this place we can get what we need?”
“Oh, right. Yes. We can head there as soon as you get the money. Two stops. One stone. That kind of thing.”
“And where did you say the location is?”
“Ah, right. It’s Sveldt Encounters. Beatrice carries specialty equipment.”
Darius piped in. “You know Beatrice as well. She’s great.”
“Not surprising that we both know her. The underworld of the City of Jade Spires.”
“Right. Tell her hello from me when you stop by and don’t let her rip you off,” Darius said.
Charly breezed in, her dark, curly hair pulled into a ponytail, her attire all business. “Sorry, helping set up for a business ‘luncheon’ the partners wanted me to host here. Business. Can you believe it? We’re a club, not a goddamn convention center,” she said, exasperated, making quotations with her fingers. “What have you guys figured out?”
“Not enough so far. We need to get this job going and soon. I just talked to Xadrian and he’s going to front a small bit of cash to pay for incidentals that we’ll need for the job. I’ve got go pick it up and then we can get the communication system,” Holly said.
“Sounds good. Who’s getting the communication stuff?”
“I’ll be going for that, Charly,” Shiro said. “Heading to Beatrice’s.”
“Don’t let her rob you,” Charly said with a laugh. “And Shiro?”
“Yes?”
“No side deals today. We don’t have time for that. This is Holly’s job, but we all want to get it done for our cut, right?”
“Of course, Charly, of course.”
“I got to get back out there,” Charly said. “Good luck with the money, Hol.” Charly hurried out before Holly could say thanks.
Odeon and Shiro stared at Holly expectantly. “Right then. I guess I’ll go meet Xadrian.”
She waited for one of the team to volunteer to go with her. There was silence, just the sound of Darius unraveling another cable. Maybe they were waiting for her to tell them what to do? It wasn’t like she didn’t know how to give orders, she’d been an elementary school teacher for Christ’s sake. She could lead. It was just such a fucking lot of responsibility. Finally, the uncomfortable silence broke her. “Odeon. You’re with me. Shiro you stay till I get back with the money, then we’ll go to Beatrice’s. Glassini is in the Lavender district. Where’s Beatrice’s?”
“Oh, other side of town. In the Cobalt district.”
Holly frowned. “Really?”
“Yes. It makes sense,” Shiro told her.
“Why have I never heard of it?”
Darius laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Holly asked. Looking at him. He shrugged, so she continued. “Cobalt is on the other side of Lavender from here. If we’re going to Beatrice’s after I get the money, it makes no sense to come back. Darius doesn’t need your help either. So, you’re with us. Let’s go.”
When they reached Glassini, Holly paused at the front doors. “Look, do you guys mind waiting out here? Xadrian didn’t say anything about me showing up alone, but I don’t want to him to change his mind about the job because he doesn’t like the team I’ve chosen or something.”
“No problem, Holly,” Odeon said.
“I’d prefer to go in with you, actually,” Shiro said. He studied her face as though he was gauging her reaction. “However, you’re the boss. And I trust your judgment.”
“Good. Because you should,” Holly said and went in.
Xadrian was sitting in the same seat as before. He had a cigar between his fingers and a glass of dark blue Constellation wine. Holly approached him, suppressing the trepidation she felt with deep breaths of confident self-talk. I’ve got this. What’s the worst that could happen?
He looked up when Holly got to his table. “There you are.”
“Hey Xadrian. You said an hour. I’m early.” Holly touched the gun in her back under her shirt as she sat down across from him at the stool. She carried it all the time now, and hoped she’d never have to use it because she was still haunted by the first time she’d used a gun. “It’s a good play. Arrive earlier. Set up, look unshakeable. I’m going to use it for myself.”
Xadrian puffed on his cigar. A blue cloud of smoke curled from his lips, concealing his face. He smiled through the smoke. “You should. I’ve learned it from some very powerful people.”
“Of course you have.”
“There’s a bag on the chair next to m
e. It looks like any expensive handbag a lady would own and miss, if she left it at her lover’s apartment after a tryst. Take it, act like it’s yours. Kiss me on the cheek, then leave. That’s your cover. The novas are in the bag. My employer and I don’t deal in crypto-currency and never will.”
And why did he feel the need to say that? No one but the Shadow Coalition dealt in crypto-currency. And if anything, this job had stirred up the Coalition. That meant—as far as Holly could tell—that the Coalition was moving against Xadrian and his employer.
She cleared her throat. “The kiss? Is that, um, totally necessary?” Her stomach curdled. It’d been so long since she’d been close to any man like that. Except that totally platonic hug she’d given Gabe.
“Part of the cover, Ms. Drake. I come to Glassini because they know me and know my penchant for the ladies. To avoid suspicion, we’re doing it this way.”
“Fine.”
“Also, if you could stop glaring at me with such a sour look on your face, that would go a long way to making it believable.”
Holly smiled, forcing it. “Then I’ll just grab the bag and go?”
“Yes, with you behaving like you’ve been my lover, you enjoyed it, and we’re planning to meet again. Can you act? Please tell me you can act. If you can’t, I’ll have to deliver some very disappointing information to my employer.” He balanced his cigar on the edge of an ash tray.
“Just in case you think there’s ever a slim chance in the goddamn world that we’d ever be anything more than a working relationship, I’m telling you there’s not. This is for the job and that’s it.”
He grinned at her. “A woman who speaks her mind. Good.”
Holly slipped off her stool and pulled the other stool out to grab the bag. It was heavy—the right amount of heavy, she judged, from her experience with smaller amounts of novas. Xadrian turned to her, and slid one of his ring covered hands around her waist. It bumped into the gun. “Protection. Smart.” His breath reeked of cigar smoke. His grin was toothy. From that close proximity, the pores in his skin were visible. He had a wide mouth and large teeth. He leaned his cheek toward her and she closed her eyes to kiss it. Her lips brushed against his skin, which was covered with a fine layer of stubble. The stale odor of smoke faded and she caught the musk of his neck, the fragrance of his hair products.
“Convincing,” Xadrian said as she pulled away. “Get this done right. Maybe you’ll become an asset.”
“This is a one-time job. Don’t kid yourself.”
She carried the bag over her shoulder and walked away. Playing the part, she turned and waved coyly on her way out.
TWENTY
“GOT the money, let’s go,” Holly said.
“We can’t just carry that amount of money around,” Shiro said. “You’re asking to be mugged.”
“What do you propose we do with it?”
“Well, don’t you have a bank account or something?” Shiro asked.
Holly thought for moment. She’d had one with Graf. But she’d never had access to it. Her money went into it and when she needed something she’d been forced to ask him for money. Banks, money, all that stuff still triggered her latent self-loathing and the rage she still felt for Graf. Sometimes that came out in resentment for all men. She was working on getting to a rational place when it came to men. Not all men were like Graf. She knew it. What she needed to learn was how to feel it.
“I haven’t had one in a long time. I can set one up, later, for now, I think our priority is getting the stuff from Beatrice and then going back to the club to move on to the next stage,” she said.
“That’s a very unwise move,” Shiro said, holding his cane out in front of him, the tip balancing on the ground, one hand covering the lion face.
“I can think of worse moves. Lead the way to Beatrice’s,” Holly said, glancing at Odeon. He was watching Shiro with an unreadable expression.
Shiro shrugged and lifted his bowler, adjusted it, then returned it to his head. “Follow me.”
After a short ride along the Spireway, they came to the Cobalt district. Holly only knew of the area by reputation. It was littered with street markets and positively swam with criminal elements. Graf had often been forced to the area for information, though it was quite out of his precinct. They’d never visited it together, either, and if he’d mentioned it, it had been with a sneer.
As Holly carried the bag of money through the streets and crowds, she wished she’d listened to Shiro. She forced herself to put on an air of casual indifference about the bag, so that anyone studying them as a mark would be fooled into the thinking there was nothing in it.
One thing she noticed was that rather than the disgust Graf had always exhibited when he spoke of the Cobalt district, she simply felt sorry for the people here. Both Shiro and Odeon smiled as they filtered through the crowd like they loved the area. The vibrancy. The people. Though many of them looked poor, beaten down, and discouraged, many of them walked with a spring in their step like they had high hopes for the future. She thought again of the promises the Centau had brought when the’d invited Holly’s people to the six-moons. Was the flaw something inherent in humans or had they really failed to deliver—which was what the Shadow Coalition contended. They wanted to remove the Syndicate government run by the Centau, who delegated much of the civic duties to humans and Consties.
“Here we are,” Shiro said as he came to a pink, glowing sign over a shop at the base of a seven story building. The top floors were apartments, the rest of it store-fronts.
“Sveldt?” Holly read, in shock. “Really?”
“She’s one of the best. This other stuff is just a lucrative front.” He grinned over his shoulder as he used the cane to push the door open. “Still, though I love it here, best not to touch anything.”
Odeon and Holly followed him inside.
The room was mostly lit up by neon. Music with an exaggerated bass line throbbed through the air. There was a stage and several raised dais’, in the center of them, poles for dancing girls. And, it turned out, men. There were men dancing there now. People of both persuasions sat around tables on the floor watching, cat-calling, and throwing novas toward the stage.
Shiro turned back and waited for Holly to get close enough. He said into her ear, “Just so you know, I love it here best when it’s women dancing. Not men.”
Holly stared at him. “You want me to know you’re into women, not men?”
He pointed at her, “Exactly.”
“Hear that, Odeon? Shiro likes women. Not men. In case you were wondering. He was worried you’d think he was gay.”
Odeon laughed, picking up on the humor. “I like both. It doesn’t matter to me. Shiro isn’t my type.”
“What’s your type?” Shiro asked.
“Not you.” Odeon said.
“I’m crushed.”
“You don’t even like men, Shiro,” Holly pointed out.
He tilted his head to one side. “Still I like to be wanted.”
“OK, as much as I love the show, where is Beatrice?”
“Wait here. I’ll go find her.” Shiro said, and walked away. So Odeon and Holly leaned against the railing encircling the floor and watched the dancers, appreciating the spectacle.
Around the balcony, women watched, dressed in next to nothing, their bodies and lips lined with glow-in-the-dark paint. Holly saw encounters beginning to happen above, and encounters ending, and encounters in the process of happening along the balcony. Some retreated into rooms just out of view. The men on stage with their Adonis bodies made something stir in her. The music, the lights, the air. Despite it being the way she’d never want a relationship to begin, it touched a primal nerve. She’d been alone for so long. Even during the time she was with Graf, she’d been lonely. Trapped in isolation that he’d never been able to touch. Because she’d never let him in, because . . . she hadn’t felt safe. She recalled Elan for a moment again and pushed the memories away.
“She’s he
re, this way. Come on.”
Holly jumped as Shiro spoke near her ear. He touched her on the back softly. The contact sent chills exploding through her body like he’d lit her nerves on fire. With ice.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
Holly snapped her gaze to him. “Like hell you didn’t, Mr. Oahu,” she said.
He laughed. “Anyway, come on. Odeon, you too. Madame Le Tissier wants to see all of us.”
“Beatrice Le Tissier?” Holly said, trying the entire name out. “Could there be a better name? She better be gaudy as hell and beautiful.”
“Oh don’t worry. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Odeon kept pace with her. He leaned in to say something. Holly cocked her head toward him.
“I’m very good at this, Holly. When it comes to the price, if you let me, I can convince her to come down significantly.”
“With your music?” Holly said in a low voice near his ear.
“Yes. But it will be so low neither of you will notice it,” Odeon said.
Shiro didn’t appear to hear their conversation. Not surprising since the music in the place was so loud. He led them into in a back room at the back of the club. And then opened a door hidden behind a long shelf filled with bottles of colorful liquids that appeared to be something other than alcoholic beverages.
“Help me move this,” Shiro said.
Holly and Odeon grabbed the support on one end and lifted it away.
“Love potions?” Holly asked aloud.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Shiro said, grinning. “And yes, pretty much.”
“Oh no. You’ve used them before, haven’t you,” Holly said.
“Never,” Shiro said, swinging his cane as they took the stairs down into the basement.
“But they’re for sale, right? If I mean, someone wanted to buy one?”
“Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t.”
“Did it work, Shiro?” Odeon asked.
He’d been so silent since the team had gotten together, Holly flashed a look at him when he spoke.
“Oh, I’ll never tell,” Shiro said with a mischievous look flashing across his face.
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