“...So, yeah, when she looked at me, she wasn’t going to say no,” Caspian said arrogantly as he entered the kitchen with Dare.
Lucinda looked up from the table to see the final sibling entering the room. Caspian was the second eldest, and he was the spitting image of his older brother. The same sandy hair, the same jawline, the same eyes, but most of all, the same hot-headed temperament. The two brothers came to blows a lot. She hadn’t witnessed a fight between the boys before, just the aftermath of black eyes and broken end tables. It had been the usual way of things in The Fringe; disagreements had been solved with fists rather than words. Zane had pretty much managed to step out of The Fringe way of life, but Caspian just had that way of pushing him too far—too much male testosterone.
“Hey, Luce,” Caspian said, giving her a brief one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek. The guy may be an arrogant show off, but he had always been good to her.
“Wanna grab the plates, Cas?” Zane said, pointing to the cupboard with the stirring spoon.
“No problem,” Cas said, heading straight for the cupboard and doing as asked.
Dare leaned on the side next to her. He wasn’t a blood relation of the family but had been taken in as an honorary brother long ago. When the family had escaped The Fringe, Dare had accidently been left behind. On the mission when Lucinda had met Zane, they had brought Dare with him. It had been interesting watching the young man try to acclimatize to the city.
“Hey, Dare, how’s it going?” Lucinda asked as the young man gave her a beaming smile.
“I’m doing good, thanks. Zane’s talking about getting me a tutor to learn stuff. Not sure how I feel about that,” Dare said with a look of concern. In The Fringe, he would have been taught what he needed to survive and fight; reading and writing were not core subjects.
“You’re a smart guy; you’ll rock it,” she said, giving him a smile that she hoped would convey a little confidence to him.
“Thanks, Lucy,” he said with a smile, and he settled at the table beside the twins. He looked over their shoulders at the AR they worked on. There was a smile on his face but concern in his eyes. She couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to go from a technology void world like The Fringe to Seattle where almost every day to day task involved using one device or another. They were an amazing little family, and she was determined to help them as much as she could.
There was a clattering of plates, which got her attention, and the scent of the food seemed to grow stronger. Lucinda looked back to see plates of food being dished out. She felt her stomach growl painfully, the meaty scent was so enticing. Unsurprisingly, the kids suddenly weren’t even remotely interested in homework. Lucinda had learned quickly that as soon as food was in the picture, the kids couldn’t focus on anything else. After spending the time in The Fringe and seeing the food they had grown up on, she couldn’t blame them. A hearty meal had been a rare treat for them and would have also gained lots of attention from other residents looking to steal something hot and nourishing.
The meal was distributed, and there was no conversation, just the sounds of cutlery on china as the food was quickly demolished. Lucinda was always the last to finish; the kids ate like it was their last meal and all but licked their plates clean. It made her sad that it was so ingrained in them that even after a year, they were still obsessed with food. As soon as every crumb of the sweet pastries had been consumed, the kids went about clearing up after dinner. She smiled as she watched them working together. They had really had brought life back to her parents’ old home.
Chapter Five
Ava saw the glowing sign that indicated she had arrived at her destination. Neon was supposed to be one of the most popular clubs in Seattle Central. Finding her way around was so much easier since Jacques had taught her how to use the map program on her gauntlet. The black building was decorated with what looked like neon paint splotches that periodically shifted around the blank canvas. The vivid lights against the dark backdrop was a world away from where she was raised. No color there, just shades of gray and brown.
Ava stepped through the main entrance and paid the fee. The room beyond was an assault on all the senses. Bright, illuminating colors flashed everywhere, the loud music was deafening, and the bass thumped through the floor. A large dance floor dominated the room, filled with hundreds of bodies grinding together to the beat. Ava wished that Jacques had mentioned the usual standards of dress for this place—she was one of few here who wasn’t clad in simple neon straps. She felt almost overdressed, which considering her previous occupation, was something of a novelty. The building was alive. It felt almost like the barn back home, and the familiarity of the active atmosphere was nice, but how was she going to find Jacques in all these people? She summoned her gauntlet menu and sent him a message.
::Where R U?::
Within seconds of her message being sent, there was a bleep of an incoming notification. It was a map beacon, a way of people coordinating where to meet. She opened the map program, which produced a very basic overview of the club on her AR; on it pulsed an orange marker showing Jacques’ location. Feeling a little more confident, she started to press her way through the crowds.
As she made her way through the throngs of people, she could feel the eyes on her. A good whore knew how to carry herself so she showed off all her wares to prospective clients. Years of flaunting herself every time she walked across a room meant she couldn’t enter a place without drawing people's gaze. She was pretty, and she knew it. Although, by the beauty standards on this side of the wall, she looked fairly plain. Most people had some form of augment or aesthetic work to enhance their appearance and insisted on wearing as little as possible to show it all off, whereas she was as unaltered as the day she had arrived from The Fringe and far more covered up than most of the other patrons. Not that it stopped the locals from looking at her. Ava wasn’t overly interested in any of them. She was done with hooking up with strangers at clubs, and had no intent to start some meaningful relationship with anyone. She was out to look after herself and didn’t want to have to deal with someone else's baggage.
She ignored all of the stares she got and, instead, focused on her target, the pulsing orange beacon on the translucent gray map. It took all her concentration to flip between real life and the gauntlet map without walking into something. She didn’t care what the public thought, but she didn’t want to give them another reason to stare at her. She was having enough trouble being the only dark spot in the otherwise brightly colored crush of humanity around her.
In the back corner of the room, Jacques sat in a booth. She had expected him to be playing on his gauntlet as he had been almost every other time she had seen him, but this time, he sat watching the crowds with a beer clasped between his hands. When he saw her, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. She sighed with relief when she saw that he was dressed in his usual attire. It wasn’t that she disliked the way the people around her dressed, but she didn’t like sticking out. Not on this side of the wall. She wouldn’t let on to him or anyone else that she felt out of place. She strode toward him, allowing nothing in her bearing or expression to show her discomfort.
“Glad to see you found the place alright,” he said as he indicated the chair next to him.
“It’s much easier when this damn thing works,” she said, prodding the band of rubber that was her AR gauntlet.
“Well, it always worked. Don’t be mean to the thing because you couldn't use it properly,” Jacques teased. “You want a drink?”
“Sure, a beer would be great,” she said.
He started to manipulate the AR on the tabletop. It was a simple system that would send a message to the bar, ordering drinks for the table. She watched Jacques’ deft motions with rapt concentration; she was envious of the ease of his movements. Technology was such an important thing over here that she was at a severe disadvantage for not being able to use it for the simplest of tasks. His navigations were so fluid and simple, whil
e hers were disjointed and unsure.
“You’ll get it,” he said. She furrowed her brows; had she spoken aloud?
“Huh?” she said.
“The AR. We’ll have you working it with ease in no time. Trust me; I am a fantastic teacher,” he said with an air of arrogance. She had to wonder how much of that over-inflated confidence was real and how much was for show.
“Oh, the best. Jacques, you are the true master of all tech,” she said flatly, with a roll of her eyes. He looked to her, and even with his goggles obscuring her view, she knew his eyes were focused entirely on her.
“And don’t you forget it,” he said with a smile.
She shook her head slightly. She was already starting to feel that eye rolling and disbelief were going to become common if she spent more time with Jacques. She sensed that he liked that reaction from people.
When the drinks arrived, she found herself clutching the glass tightly and watching as people passed by. Her cautiousness over being spiked was something she hadn’t been able to shake even after a conversation with Hamish on the subject. It had happened to her once in The Fringe, and she would never forget that day, nor would she ever let it happen again.
“How is Seattle treating you?” he asked.
“It’s nice not to have to shit in a bucket, oh, and of course I love not having crazy gangers chase me,” she said with a gulp of her drink.
“Well, at least you had a bucket,” he said with a sly grin.
“Oh, don’t you start this pissing contest again. You lost last time, and you’ll lose again,” she said.
The drinks went down smoothly, and the conversation between them flowed nicely. It was mainly insults and sarcastic replies, but that suited her. She didn’t like guys who were mushy and overly complimentary. That was just boring and tame. By the time they decided to leave Neon, a light buzz had overtaken her; it had been a while since she had let herself drink enough to truly feel the effects. It showed how much safer she felt here in Seattle.
“Well, I know you ain’t gonna have any issues getting back. I’ll see you for your next lesson,” he said.
There was a brief nod between them before he turned and made his way off down the street. He lived a lot closer than she did. She hailed one of the many automated cabs that stopped outside the club and was quickly on her way back to the Casket. As the city darted by outside the window, she thought over her night.
As much as she had sworn off men, there was something about Jacques that intrigued her, that spoke to a part of her that she thought had long since died. Her upbringing hadn’t exactly raised her with a healthy view of relationships; that and watching the train wreck relationships of her fellow Valkyries had killed any want for her to ever find a partner. For the longest time, she had liked the solitude, and now she enjoyed having control over her own body. But something about him had kindled the lonely ember within her. Maybe…just maybe...
Her thought was cut off as the automated system in the cab requested payment. She was glad for the intrusion as her mind was going somewhere that she wasn’t wholly comfortable with. There was no way she was actually considering anything. Things were far too messed up. She was far too messed up.
She quickly swiped her chip and paid the charge before slipping out. The mercs either side of the Oaken Casket’s door gave her a nod and let her pass without a word. She was starting to enjoy the feeling of living here. The bar was quite busy tonight, and she was glad it was Jackie’s shift. The troll-like woman took no shit, and the regulars knew to avoid pissing her off. Right now, Ava felt like she would put someone on their ass if they so much as commented on hers, and spoiled her mood. With a nod to Jackie, Ava slipped under the bar and headed for the backroom she called home. All she wanted right now was sleep.
“Morning,” said a woman’s voice in a Scottish accent. The same accent as Hamish’s.
Ava glanced over to a chair in the corner of her room. On it was perched a dainty looking woman with long, straight red hair that fell over her pale, pointed, face. Her left arm was a full chrome augmentic replacement, which was obviously sized to fit her smaller form. Ava had no idea who this woman was or what the hell she was doing in her room. For a moment, all the effects of the alcohol seemed to clear, allowing her complete clarity.
“Can I help you?” Ava asked. She was hyper alert, and currently wishing that she had a ranged weapon of some sort close to hand. The vibe she was getting off this woman was throwing all of her defensive senses into overdrive.
“Yeah, you can, actually. You can stay the hell away from Jacques,” she said, and she jumped up from the chair.
“I do what I want, with who I want, thanks. Who the hell do you think you are?” Ava asked, subtly palming the switchblade that she kept on her at all times.
“I thought the accent would give it away. The name’s Glass,” she said.
Hamish’s daughter, Ava thought. Her name was whispered in the bar and never mentioned in front of Hamish. She had no idea what had happened between them, but she had thought it best not to ask any questions.
“I would like to say it’s a pleasure, but it’s really not,” Ava said as she gripped the switchblade tighter. “Now, d’you want to get the hell out of my room?”
The annoyance was quickly turning to anger. She had never been good at taking orders, and now that she had tasted freedom, that was something she wasn’t going to relinquish easily. Not to some redhead with what seemed like a power complex. Glass closed the distance between them, the woman ending up only inches from her face.
“Oh, I’m going. But take my warning; stay the fuck away from Jacques. If you don’t, you couldn’t imagine what will befall you,” Glass said before stepping out of the door and closing it behind her.
Ava stood there for a moment just staring at the closed door. Then she snorted derisively and turned away. She wasn’t even slightly intimidated by the woman’s threats. She had taken down bigger women for stealing her breakfast in The Fringe, and she had access to better weapons now. Besides, how was it Glass’ business whatever happened between her and Jacques? He was giving her tech lessons, that was all. With a shake of her head, she locked the door and made for her bed. In the morning, she’d message Jacques and tell him about her unwelcome visitor, but right now, all she wanted was sleep.
*****
The hangover was in full force as Jacques dragged himself to the fridge for a bottle of water. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink, but he had enjoyed it so much that he’d lost track of the amount he’d actually had. Since he moved out, he’d been so wrapped up in his feelings for Venom that he hadn’t even looked at other women. Ava was different, though. Venom was a lovely girl, pretty, sassy and smart to boot, but she was a good girl in the grand scheme of things. Ava was streetwise, sarcastic, and had a sense of danger about her, like something feral that was only half tame and might swipe at him at any moment, and he found himself really into that.
He grabbed a meal replacement bar and headed back to bed. He was going to spend a few more hours asleep before he would even consider the rest of the day. A bleeping came from his Gauntlet. He looked at the name: Ava. He hadn’t expected to hear from her so soon.
“Good evening, how you doing?” he asked, trying to inject a little chirpiness to his voice to try and hide the hangover he was suffering with.
“I’m fine. Just wanted to know why I am being threatened to stay away from you,” Ava said in an annoyed tone.
“What? Who the hell is threatening you?” Jacques asked. Why the hell would anyone have a problem with them hanging out?
“A lovely woman called Glass,” she said sarcastically. “When I got home from the club this morning, she was in my room waiting for me.”
Glass! God, it had been a long time since he’d even heard the name. Just the mention of her got his adrenaline pumping. The emotions he felt were very mixed. He was relieved that she was okay, but at the same time, he felt guilty as hell. Glass was his ex-girlfriend a
nd teenhood sweetheart; even seeing Ava in a platonic way had made him feel like he was cheating on her. Adding his unrequited feelings for Venom into the mix was like adding hot sauce to a dish that was already going to give him indigestion. He knew it wasn’t a completely rational feeling, given that he wasn’t currently in a relationship with any of them, but the churning in his gut didn’t ease any with the knowledge.
“Oh,” he said simply.
“Someone you know then?” Ava asked, her tone implying she wasn’t overly happy. “Want to fill me in?”
“Yeah…umm…sure. She’s my ex; we broke up a long time ago,” Jacques explained. A pit of nausea was quickly forming in his stomach as he thought back to that situation.
“So jealous ex? Any more to this story?” she asked.
Jacques sighed. He wanted to tell her everything, but a phone call seemed impersonal.
“Can we meet later tonight? Then I’ll tell you everything,” he said. Silence fell on the other end of the call. The time spent waiting felt like years as he worried he was going to get completely rejected.
“Okay,” she said.
They made quick plans of a time and place before ending the call. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about what Ava thought, but he did. Before he met her, he had something that he needed to do. Calling up Hamish’s number, he hit dial; as soon as the call was answered, he spoke.
“Where is she, Hamish?” he asked.
“Puyallup, 1478 114th,” Hamish replied without a beat. Jacques liked that Hamish didn’t even have to ask who he was talking about.
“Thanks,” Jacques said and hung up the phone.
The effects of the hangover had been completely destroyed by the sudden influx of information. The fact that Glass was back in the picture had hit him hard. He had no idea that she was in the city, and was quite angry that Hamish hadn’t told him. His feelings for Glass were a complicated ball of love, dislike, jealousy, concern, and so much more that he couldn’t even pin them down. The one thing he knew for sure was that he had to see her.
Recycled Lives Page 4
