Vicinus (Walking Shadows Book 3)

by Talis Jones

  “Okay,” Yana accepts in a tone that states clearly what she thinks about my decision. “Up and off, kid,” she instructs, tugging at my shirt.

  I yank my top over my head and unclasp the back of my bra before leaning forwards against the back of the chair careful to keep my spine straight. “What did that guy get?” I ask referring to the client before me.

  “A koi fish,” she whines. “The trend is back and strong. I hate trends. Tattoos are meant to mean something. I guess when they can be removed with a snap and enough credits to pay for it nothing has to mean much anymore.”

  I feel her gloved hands reach for the last spot missing in my design. “Ready?”

  “Yep.” Though I never am.

  A buzzing fills my ears and pain shoots up my nerves. If I wasn’t such a pansy I could’ve finished this tattoo in one session probably. But each name is a loss and it’s usually the emotional pain the forces me to beg Yana to stop. Twelve names inked into my flesh and a dahlia dead center between my shoulder blades with a shed petal marked 42 and all in skin tones as if they’d been born there, like a birth mark.

  The rhythmic buzzing lulls me into a state where I can almost ignore the needles dancing in and out of my skin, but instead of a trance I’m caught on the shores of memory and I chant their names until it’s finished.

  Nathan, Piper, Ignacio, Ramses, Katy, Liza, Marta, Sam, Jax, Risa, Tola, 42…Nathan, Piper, Ignacio, Ramses, Katy, Liza, Marta, Sam, Jax, Risa, Tola, 42…

  Those aren’t even all of our real names, but I’d rather remember them than the numbers we were given.

  “Can I have my headphones?” I ask thickly.

  Yana picks up my coat from the floor and fishes out my music box along with the headphones I’d discarded onto the pile. She has lockers and coat hooks, but I always come in and dump my shit on the floor and though I’ve seen her yell at others for being messy she’s not once done the same to me and I’m oddly grateful. It’s like she knows I’m not here for art so much as healing for a burden I need her help to exorcise.

  I slip on my headphones and set the music to play, closing my eyes and humming softly careful not to dance. I feel Yana return to work and I focus on the music drowning out the memories.

  “Not a fighter, I’m a lover, and I’m facing the enemy armed in my eulogy…”

  Five

  Face scrunched in concentration, I hike my hair up into two little buns trying for the third time to make them even. I don’t know why this is such an impossible task or why I don’t just leave my hair down or better yet chop it off… Not too short though. Not too short, not too short, not too short. I shudder at the memories. Holding my breath I examine my hair in the mirror and at the results I finally relax with a smile.

  “Is this one supposed to be crooked?” KJ asks, popping up behind me.

  “Get out of the bathroom!” I shout, shoving him and his critical pointer finger away from me.

  Arcas’ laughter follows him down the hall and I sit at the table glaring at both of them. “You’re both such jerks,” I hiss. Reaching down I start yanking on my skates not really sure why I’m in such a prickly mood.

  “Okay okay I’m sorry for laughing,” Arcas surrenders then looks meaningfully at KJ.

  KJ’s brows crash together. “What did I do? If anything I was being helpful.”

  Arcas rolls his eyes. “And I’m the bot.” Noticing my footwear he asks, “Where are you headed off to? You don’t want to stay caged in here bored out of your mind like the rest of us?”

  I double-check my laces then give him a “Really?” look. “Just because we can’t do our usual jobs, doesn’t mean we can’t leave the house.”

  “It does for me,” he groans. “An Android out and about without a purpose is suspicious.”

  “So make something up,” I shrug.

  “And if they scan my wrist to verify my orders?” he presses.

  I fix him with a narrowed gaze. “Are you not the almighty hacker of this crew? Of everyone, don’t you have the ability to program your own directives now that your system’s been unlocked?” I lean back slowly. “I suspect someone of laziness. An undesirable human trait that I’d be quick to delete from your files.”

  “I’m not lazy!” he protests.

  “I think you are,” I grin, openly teasing him.

  Throwing his hands up he lets his reason slip. “Fine, yes, I can input my own orders so if I’m scanned it will verify whatever task I say I’ve been sent to do, but it still…”

  His words mumble and mush together in a tone too low for me to understand. “Sorry, what was that?”

  Glaring at me he repeats himself. “It still requires a human signature and that means asking Yosef for permission to frolic around the city for no discernible purpose.”

  My grin widens even further. “So what you’re saying is you’re scared of him.”

  “No, I’m not scared of him,” he protests. “He’s just not someone anyone should bother constantly with silly whims and wants. Unless they have a death wish.”

  Just then Yosef comes down the stairs and Arcas converts into a relaxed pose of perfect nonchalance. With an inward sigh I volunteer to help the guy out.

  “Hey Yosef, can Arcas come with me to the bakery?”

  “Sure,” is all he says before disappearing behind an array of computer monitors in the corner.

  I give Arcas a superior look that has him silently punching his fist in mock threat. Hopping onto my feet I roll to the vestibule while Arcas has Yosef officially sign off then dons his coat and hurries to catch up.

  “Arcas, don’t let her kill herself on those things,” Yosef calls out.

  “I’ll bring you back a cinnamon twist,” I call back.

  Once we’re out of sight of the church I turn to Arcas. “You can go wherever you want now. I doubt Yosef will bother tracking us with the street cams.”

  “Then you don’t know Yosef very well,” he shakes his head. “Besides, he gave me an order and now I have to follow it.”

  “Must suck to need a human controller,” I sympathize. Once I busted free I was free, well hunted probably but free. Androids, however, revert to hibernation mode unless assigned a human owner and even if their system is hacked to eradicate the software’s “shackles” they still risk being questioned by security and if found rogue, they’d be neutralized and the hacker imprisoned.

  Arcas shrugs. “At least it’s Yosef.” He pauses for a moment. “Then again, it’s Yosef.”

  We laugh and I skate in loops until the sidewalk starts to fill with people and then he takes my hand to keep us together. I borrow Arcas’ tablet before transferring a credit to a man selling papers and watch as the headlines load with interest.

  “Did you hear what our district rep. said??” I gasp with disgust. “I quote: All persons found in a non-residence without a registered address after 8pm will be arrested and held overnight–”

  “What are you reading?” Arcas interrupts. “I can’t believe you pay for that stuff.”

  “I need to stay informed!” It is sort of true. I originally began scouring the news always on the lookout for my past but now reading about current events has become a hobby. An admittedly frustrating hobby.

  “Of what? Nonsense, bullshit, and fairytales?” he scoffs.

  I frown at him. “They’re facts. That’s why it’s news.”

  “It might be a fact that they said it, but that doesn’t mean what they said was a fact. And that’s not the definition of news.”

  “I read only from respectable sources,” I assure him in protest.

  “Ha! Those journalists are no more respectable than a red light runner’s ass. It’s just biases dusted with facts and stuffed with propaganda. Follow the money, kid.”

  “That’s not true. Some of the politicians are huge supporters of charity organizations. If only the fools in power would give them a chance…”

  “Like I said, money schemes. It’s all an illusion, Maddy. They’ll do anyth
ing, say anything, promise anything to get what they want and what they all want is power and a hefty paycheck and to look like a saint getting it.”

  “Ridiculous,” I shake my head. Surely they can’t all be terrible people. Even in my homeland there must be some people fighting the regime even if they never managed to help me any…

  “Follow the money and weep, my friend,” he shrugs. “Now no more news talk. You can keep that little hobby to yourself.”

  “Fine,” I roll my eyes playfully and hand back his tablet. “So, I’m going to the bakery and you are going to the park across the street,” I decide.

  “I see,” he smirks at my attempt to get rid of him.

  “I won’t be skating in the bakery so while my skates are off so is your duty to make sure I don’t roll into a bus on them.”

  He folds his arms and waits. With a dramatic sigh I swap my skates for sneakers then shoo him away. “Go smell the roses or whatever,” I tell him. “I’ll be fine and you’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine, okay?”

  He takes a hesitant glance at the camera hidden above our heads.

  “Honestly, Yosef doesn’t care what we do so long as we don’t get the Bones in trouble. Now hurry up, I have sweets to buy.”

  “Thanks, Maddy. Don’t die, okay?” he grins before taking off.

  Removing my headphones from my pocket I pop them over my ears and cue the music. As I walk the last block to the bakery I take a moment to soak in the frenzied, holiday spirit swarming the shops while my music box croons a laidback promise. “Soon, oh soon, will come Christmas day…”

  The moment the bakery door opens I get whammied by the smell of sugar and it nearly sends me high. Most people have their food pre-packaged or delivered, but some of us still like to visit the source. Dancing up and down the aisles stacked with delicious looking goods, I fill a tray with my selections while bopping to my private music stream.

  The sales lady scans my chip for payment and sets to bundling everything up. Everyone in the Rolling Bones has a job or even a few jobs and in exchange for protection, food, shelter, and another income, everyone gives a cut of their money no matter where it came from to the crew and have to put crew jobs before any others. Everyone has a non-crew job, some have very well fed private bank accounts in fact, except Arcas and I. My funds come from my cut of crew jobs, doing odd jobs for the others, plus an allowance from Yosef supposedly for using my “abilities” though I try not to use them at all. Really there’s no reason for him to be paying me an allowance and I have the fleeting thought that perhaps he does it to keep me from looking for another job and leaving like Castor’s previous finds, to keep me close to home where he can protect my secrets. I’d assume it is just a way to protect his investment, but I’m not much of an investment. I cost more to keep than I can bring in. I’m also a hell of a risk should my past come knocking. I wonder what he’s up to…

  Still lost in thought, I gather the bag of pastries into my arms and stride through the open door not realizing that it hadn’t slid open for me.

  “Dammit!” I cry, stumbling off balance clinging to my bag and smashing into a tier of chocolates. A set of strong hands clutch my shoulders, keeping me from falling to the floor, but not before my face gets the chance to crack against one of the metal shelves. I feel the sharp flare of pain in the back of my mind but my eyes are fixed on the little chocolates rolling across the floor. Oh no…

  “Miss. Miss? Are you okay?”

  I turn my attention to the stranger still holding me up and take a quick side step away. “What? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry about that, my fault, I wasn’t paying attention and dammit those chocolates are going to be expensive…” I apologize quickly, muttering the last bit to myself.

  Bending down he picks something up and I realize with a fearful lurch that my headphones had slipped off when I’d tripped. “I believe these are yours?” he asks politely.

  Snatching them almost rudely I clutch them to my chest then begin examining them for damage. Placing them over my ears for a moment I check if they still work. “My dreams are so lonely oh why don’t you join me…” A deep relief washes over me and I collapse them down to fit in my pocket and stop the music box before shoving them both deep inside my coat.

  Finally with attention to spare the poor guy I’d crashed into I feel my jaw loosen. Tall, dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen if they’re real. “Sorry about that,” I apologize again. “Sometimes I get lost in thought and I forget the world is tangible and still around me.” My confession comes with a small self-deprecating laugh as I picture Yosef’s “I told you so” face he’d certainly be giving me were he here right now. I wasn’t even on my skates.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he grins. His words flow like cursive with an accent I can’t quite pin down. It isn’t common for foreigners to come here so it makes me suspicious until I remember the visiting diplomat and all of his foreign buddies who came with him. Perhaps he’s one of them.

  “Okay, well if you’re okay then I’ve got to go pay for all this mess...” Reluctantly I walk over to the counter to find out just how much this idiotic incident will cost me when suddenly Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is beside me holding out his arm.

  “Please allow me,” he insists. The sales lady doesn’t care who pays and I don’t fight his offer because hey if he’s offering then who am I stop his generosity? With a quick scan her eyebrows lift but she says nothing.

  “Thank you, sir,” she nods. Pressing a button beneath the counter a simple trash bot zooms over to clean up every speck and crumb it can find off the floor.

  “Sorry,” I offer and she gives me a tight-lipped smile in return.

  I step outside the bakery, my gaze sweeping for Arcas, noticing the build up of traffic when Mr. White Horse pops up again.

  “Ugh, this stupid diplomat stuff is a pain in my ass,” I mutter.

  “I’m sure the diplomat finds it a nuisance as well,” he offers.

  “Aren’t you going to buy anything from the bakery?” I ask.

  His eyebrows shoot up and a crooked smile warms his face. “I believe I just bought enough chocolates for an embassy.”

  My cheeks redden. “Right. Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “It wasn’t really that many chocolates.”

  Okay, Mr. Money Bags, I think.

  “Well if we’re good here then–”

  “My friends call me Os,” he says, holding out his hand for a shake.

  I tilt my head. “Like the Wizard of?”

  Confusion flits across his face briefly before transforming into a laugh. “No, not quite.”

  “Hmm well I think I’d rather call you Charlie,” I decide. His shock puts a smirk on my face. “I’m not a complete idiot despite the evidence of five minutes ago. Os? For Osman? You’re clearly a foreigner, wealthy… Come on, how many fancy pants Osmans are roaming the city?”

  “Quite a few actually,” he manages to reply.

  “But you’re Charlie, right?”

  He takes me in for a second then nods offering his hand again and this time I take it. “I’m Charlie. The nuisance,” he adds with a bow.

  “Zap, well I’m Maddy.” Moving to a piece of wall between shop windows I begin to swap my shoes for skates. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to being diplomatic or whatever. And again, sorry about the chocolate fiasco.” Just then I spot Arcas and push off to meet him. “See ya, Charlie!” I call over my shoulder. He stands there like a bemused work of art and I roll my eyes.

  “Who’s that?” Arcas asks once I reach his side.

  “A nuisance,” I answer with a shrug.

  He catches sight of the mark on my face with a slightly panicked frown. “Hey, what happened?”

  Reaching up I gently feel the bruise and dismiss it. “I just tripped and I wasn’t even on skates!” I complain.

  “Yosef won’t be happy,” he groans.

  “I just tripped. He wo
n’t care.”

  Arcas shakes his head but holds his tongue.

  I know something’s wrong the moment we return to our home because Yosef is waiting for us and I can’t ignore the icy chill my gift picks up coming from his thoughts.

  “Something wrong, Yosef?” I ask in a small voice.

  His eyes rake me head to toe then turn onto Arcas. “I thought I told you to watch her?”

  Arcas fidgets then both of them are staring at me. “Did something happen with that guy, Maddy?”

  Blushing again I brush it off. “No.”

  “Maddy.” And the way Yosef utters that one word has me pulling a 180.

  “I crashed into him and ruined a whole display of chocolates and almost broke my headphones but I’m okay, he paid for the damage, and my headphones are fine.”

  “You’re not okay,” Yosef growls. Reaching out he brushes his fingers along my cheekbone where I hit the metal stand and I flinch at the contact. Yosef’s eyes darken further and the look he gives Arcas would have him sweating if he could.

  I lean back from Yosef. “I’m fine. It was just an accident and it was my fault. Leave Arcas alone.” Yosef’s icy gaze doesn’t waver so I shove him slowly away. Slowly because he has a stubborn way of standing that makes him immovable but if you keep at it he’ll eventually notice you and yield. Once he takes a step back, I grin determined to lighten the mood. “I got you that cinnamon twist.”

  Taking an audible breath through his nose he snatches the bag of goodies from me and stalks into the kitchen.

  “Thanks for taking me with you,” Arcas murmurs before disappearing as well.

  I’d think his words sarcastic if I didn’t know how much he liked to be outside. Does sarcasm count as truth or lie for Androids? I wonder vaguely. Reaching into my coat pocket I unwrap a lollipop and follow Yosef to the kitchen.

  “What has you so tightly wound?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.