by Ann Aguirre
“This is our first stop? Really?”
“Contacts, love.” Jael went over to the bar, where an old man was nursing a drink. “Who owns the place now?”
“Who wants to know?”
“What matters is that I knew Domina,” he said.
The man made a sound that was one part burp, one part raucous laughter. “Tell me another one. She’s been dead for forty turns.”
Dred scanned the room, looking for a better source of information. She focused on a large, well-muscled man in a dark suit. Before him, he only had a glass of water. In most places, they had the public bouncer and quiet backup in case things got out of hand. The bouncer standing by the back wall wouldn’t make conversation, but his partner might.
“Try that table.”
Jael followed her gaze and nodded. “Good eye. Let’s go.”
He went over with a purposeful air. The other man looked up, revealing clear eyes and a speculative air. Dred guessed he must stand over two meters, probably 120 kilos. His arms were no joke, either. He’d shorn his hair, and she suspected that was to give no handholds in a fight.
“Can I help you two?” he asked.
“Maybe. I’d like to talk to the owner.”
“What about?”
“Domina always knew the major players. I’m thinking of sticking around . . . and making some local investments, but I could use a hand settling some business first.”
“Ah. Why don’t you take a seat?”
Dred raised a brow at Jael, but he’d already accepted the invitation. Maybe he’s not the backup bouncer? On closer inspection, she reevaluated the cost of his suit, adding another thousand credits based on the fabric and the cut. It looked as if it had been hand-tailored, nearly unheard of these days. Most men just input their measurements into their wardrobers. She took the seat next to Jael, both opposite their host.
“Thanks,” she said.
“As I’m sure you’ve worked out, I’m the current owner of Hidden Rue, Domingo Pace. But I’m not sure you’ll find me as useful as my grandmother.”
“Nice to meet you.” She hesitated, wondering if she should give her full name. Coverage of her crimes had been plastered all over the bounce. It had been long enough, however, that she’d probably been forgotten by the general populace. “I’m Dred.”
“Jael.” He reached over to shake the proprietor’s hand.
Domingo Pace signaled one of his human servers, a quaint affectation for a bar. “Bring me some wine.” He named a vintage and turn that meant nothing to Dred. “Now then . . . what do you think I can do for you?”
“Possibly put us in touch with the appropriate party . . . for a finder’s fee, of course.” Jael seemed at ease though his request must seem odd to the other man. “There’s an uncrowned king or queen of every city like Gehenna. If I can make his or her acquaintance, I have no doubt my problems will disappear.”
Dred suspected he meant literally.
“Is it a legal matter?” Pace didn’t act like he’d mind if it was.
“Not exactly. Some businessmen want me for a project I have no interest in. They’ve had no compunction about issuing a private-pay bounty and trying to force my compliance.”
“How rude,” Pace said.
“My thoughts exactly.”
The other man steepled his hands, prepared to do business. “As I’m sure you know, anything can be had for a price. Do you have a skin unit?”
Jael smiled. “I prefer the old ways. May I borrow a handheld?”
“Of course.” The owner signaled again and murmured to his server, who returned momentarily with the old tech Jael preferred. Dred guessed Jael was flashing his account balance to prove he wasn’t a con artist. Pace’s smile warmed by five degrees. “Please, keep it for your own use. I’ll have Vienna show you to the suite upstairs while I make some calls.”
• • •
JAEL followed the waitress through the club and up the back stairs. Upstairs, he heard the giggle of happy toddlers. They must have a crèche on-site for the dancers. Vienna took another flight and another, until they reached the second-highest floor in the building. She keyed something on the security pad, then turned to him.
“Put your palm here, please, sir. This will key the flat to you, no need for a card or code.”
Quietly he did as instructed, then she bowed and hurried off the way she’d come. For some reason, Vienna seemed nervous. He watched her go.
Dred cleared her throat. “See something you like?”
“No, it’s nothing.” I hope.
He palmed open the doors and stepped inside; the suite was an opulent dream—lush fabrics, ornate furnishings in black and white. Accents came in red and gold, sparks of color. The far wall had an elegant frieze, and the bed was enormous, piled with cushions. Across the room, a row of cupboards hid myriad amenities like a Kitchen-mate and personal wardrober.
“How the hell do you have so much money?” Dred demanded.
“I didn’t spend much of what I made as a merc, then later on, salvage. Before everything went wrong, I did one last job, and it had a huge payday. Then I got locked up, and it just sat there earning interest. It’s a high percent account, too.”
“So sitting in prison made you rich,” she said, grinning.
It also drove me mad.
“That’s one way to look at it.”
“Do you think we can trust Pace?”
“Not really. But I think he’s more interested in getting what he can out of me. He must know I’ll pay more over time than the company trying to collect me like a specimen.”
“I noticed you were cagey about why they’re after you.”
He nodded. “Better if he thinks they want my brain figuratively, love.”
“So what now?”
“We wait. But while we do, I can think of a number of fantasies we could fulfill. Fine food, elegant clothes?” He tilted his head. “Interested?”
“It feels . . . silly, after everything we’ve been through.”
“Why? I want to see you as gorgeous as nature allows. I want to eat something delicious while imagining how I’ll peel you out of a pretty dress.”
A shaky breath slipped out, and he could hear the unsteady skip of her heart. Love knowing that you want me. “You’ve talked me into it. But let’s wash up first.”
It had been ages since he’d stepped into a san so luxurious. In fact, apart from the recycling function on the water system, there was no efficiency to it all. A huge tub dominated the room, a waterfall on the far wall, gilded spigots and impossibly thick, lush robes waiting for use on golden hooks. Dred stopped in the doorway, eyes wide.
“I feel like such a yokel right now.”
“You came from a backwater colony, rode around in dirty merc ships, then moved on to hunting killers. No time to live it up?”
“I couldn’t afford it,” she admitted. “I spent my money on travel and weapons. The only taste of the good life I had came from Cedric, and he was all about philanthropy.”
“So opera and charity benefits?”
Dred nodded, looking sheepish. “He wasn’t one to indulge like this.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Because it might take the shine off if you were comparing my lavish generosity with someone else’s.” Though he kept his tone light, he didn’t want to talk about Cedric Genaro, even if he’d died tragically. Maybe especially because he did.
He stopped the tub and turned on the water. There was a dazzling array of bath products lined up along the edge of the tub: ruby red, sapphire blue, gold, and silver. Jael smelled a number of them and decided on a rosy pink, then he scattered the kernels into the water. They burst into fizzing life, tinting the water with romance. Maybe it was ridiculous to do this when he should be planning, but he’d never been able to shake the taint of his heritage on his
own. Now that he had Dred to protect, the problem had to be solved, one way or another.
She was already naked, slipping into the bath with a delightfully innocent pleasure. So odd to use that word in correlation with the Dread Queen, but her life had been stunted by her Psi ability, just as being Bred had marked him. He shucked the gray garb and stepped into the tub with her. The water burbled white at the spout and blushed pink deep down.
Rolling her shoulders, she settled in, eyes falling half-closed. “I don’t even care if this is a politic move anymore.”
Jael shifted closer and pulled her against him. The water slicked her skin, so she felt like wet s-silk in his arms. “It’s the best we can do, trust me. Without powerful backers, they hound us all over Gehenna. We can kill them, but they’ll send more. Sooner or later, the authorities will intervene, and they won’t care why we fought, only that everywhere we go, dead bodies pile up.”
“I’d prefer to stay out of prison,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I have a plan.” He smiled at her, trying to look reassuring.
That was mostly true. It would be more accurate to say he had a dream. Since he’d never had one before, there was nothing he wouldn’t do to make it come true.
38
Future Perfect
After a long luxuriant bath, Dred put on the white robe and went out to see what kind of dress she could design. Pace’s hospitality was top-notch because he didn’t limit the cuts or fabrics she could access. In the distant past, she recalled staying in hotels that required a credit stick to unlock the better options.
She took this mission seriously, every bit as much as any murderer she’d ever hunted. It was about more than creating a gown; it was also directly linked to reclaiming her identity as a person, as a woman, completely apart from the Dread Queen. She input ideas, discarding them almost as fast. Dred lost track of how long she was at it, but eventually she entered the production code and waited for her dress to be finished.
When it was done, the style came to a round collar in front and left most of her back bare. This couldn’t be worn with anything beneath it, but Perdition had left her more than lean enough. In fact, as she slipped into it, she wished she had more curves. She touched her shorn hair and peeped in the mirror. The result was . . . beautiful, sleek, and slightly dangerous.
Jael had gone first since suits didn’t take nearly as long. He was waiting in the other room, so she called out to him. “I’m ready.”
He came to the doorway and stopped, wearing an inscrutable look. “Words fail me.”
“I hope that’s a good thing.”
“You’ve no idea. Let me . . .” Jael pulled out her chair, and she sat, oddly shy.
In the real world, there had been no romance for her. With Cedric, it was pretense, one that made her feel guilty the whole time. So she didn’t know how to act. Part of her wanted to rip the gown off, but they’d promised each other elegant clothes and a posh meal. So even if things went hideously awry later, that pledge should be kept.
“Thank you.”
“I’ll get the food. I already programmed the menu.”
Maybe someone else would’ve preferred a fancy restaurant, but other people would’ve just made Dred more anxious at a time like this. Quietly, she watched him set out dishes in rich-smelling sauce, noodles, bright fruits and vegetables, plates of creamy sweets. Then Jael joined her and took up his cutlery. For the first time she noticed that his hands were trembling.
He’s nervous, too.
That helped. She had no confidence that she knew how to live as a free woman and as half of a working romantic partnership. It was one thing in Perdition, where all the rules were clear, and survival always took precedence over emotional entanglements. This felt like a series of traps and snares waiting to trip the unwary. Trying to hide her tension, she served a little of everything on the fine china plate.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She ate a bit, marveling at the quality of the food. “We’ll probably make ourselves sick. Apart from the meal on the Stargazer, we haven’t had anything but paste in forever.”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” From his expression, he didn’t believe her.
Fine, I shouldn’t lie.
“I don’t know how to do this.”
“What, eat?”
“Be a real person. I’ve no idea what role I can play in a future with you. I mean, you have plenty of credits. And I’m not good at anything besides killing.”
“So protect me.”
Dred laughed. “You don’t need me for that.”
“Sure I do. You think I can watch my own back all the time? I have to sleep occasionally. And you’re the one person I trust above all others.” He ate a few bites, seeming unconcerned with her existential crisis. “I intend to offer jobs to Calypso, Tam, and Martine if they’re interested.”
“Doing what?”
“Tam’s a natural analyst. Calypso and Martine would make the perfect security team. They can decide who’s in charge.” Jael grinned in abdicating the decision.
“But . . . what business are you contemplating?”
“Venture capital. I’m particularly interested in biotech for obvious reasons. The way I figure it, if I can’t get away from what I am, I might as well embrace it.”
“So . . . you’ll fund your own bioengineering research?”
Jael smiled. “Life will get easier if I’m not the only one, don’t you think? I’d also like to look for survivors who might need a safe haven.”
“Why didn’t you do this before?” she asked.
“Lack of resources. Which I have, now. If you’re worried about pulling your weight—and I suspect you are—tell me what training you want. We’ll get it for you.”
Suddenly, it occurred to Dred what she could do, beyond sex or violence. “Could . . . would my talent come in handy? I can read people. That might help screen out bad investments.”
“Definitely. I’ll want your opinion after every presentation. Don’t worry so much, love. I have a sense for these things, and . . . Gehenna will treat us right.”
“If you say so.”
Relaxing, she ate the rest of her dinner. Jael was quiet, watching her more than his food. Her heart thudded wildly. Finally, he took away their plates and stacked them in the cleaner. After that, he drew her to her feet and cupped her face in his hands.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered.
Normally, that question preceded horrific betrayal, but he was the one being hunted. The injustice of it made her feel frankly murderous. But if he could be cool and consider their course, she could keep from hunting those assholes down. Dred nodded.
“That’s all I needed to hear.”
In a bold move, he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, which was all romance, all the way, down to the red flower petals scattered on the white coverlet. Happiness poked tiny pinholes in the skeptical armor that kept her from living in the moment.
Dred circled his neck with her arms, then touched his cheek. “You did all this for me?”
“I do everything for you,” he said softly.
• • •
AS Jael set Dred on her feet, he half expected private security goons to kick the door in. But the suite was quiet. He unfastened the high collar of her gown, so the top fell away. Things had never been so clear between them. She wasn’t staying because she needed to; this was pure, heady choice. The minute the Stargazer touched down, she could’ve gone her own way.
“It’s been a while,” she whispered.
“Not as long as it has been.” Those long turns where he didn’t even hear a human voice, for instance.
“Let’s not waste any time.” With eager hands, she pulled at his jacket.
Jael blessed his speed as he got out of the rest of his clothes in seconds. And
then he rolled with her onto the mattress in a flutter of perfumed petals. The linens felt incredible against his bare skin, a level of comfort and indulgence that he barely remembered. Surely, there had been nights before, with the occasional paid companion, but he couldn’t recall now.
There was only her. Now.
She kissed him first, a little surprising, because she usually went straight to sex. The preliminaries were welcome, though, and he touched her, relearning the shape of her body. She was leaner than she ever had been, the curves of her breasts shallow, her ribs more prominent. But she was probably thinking the same thing.
The wide bay of windows threw rosy light across their twined bodies. Hunger burned in a low, banked fire in the pit of his stomach. For the moment, it was enough just to touch and kiss. There was no need to rush, no emergency calling for their intervention, no risk of imminent bodily harm. So Jael took his time, kissing and stroking, until she stirred, restless, and clutched at his shoulders.
But he should’ve known she wouldn’t take without giving. Soon her hands were all over him, touching his new scars. The raised, puckered flesh made him self-conscious in the best possible way each time she brushed her mouth back and forth. It changed how everything felt, frissons of pleasure breaking like waves over him. Her nails bit into his back as he kissed just beneath the delicate line of her jaw.
“How’s that?” he teased.
“Not bad. But I could use a little more.”
“Too slow?”
In answer, she wrapped one bare leg across his hip and drew him fully against her. She took his mouth in a deep, lush kiss, moving with each dart of her tongue. His lungs went crazy, and he forgot how to talk. One shift, another, and he pushed into her. This way, curved together, it had to be sweet and slow. The need for restraint maddened him, but with her green eyes so close, lashes fluttering, clouded with pleasure . . .
He rolled, bringing her on top, but he didn’t let her sit upright. Still joined, she could only move in tiny increments, not enough to drive either of them over, but he could touch her, feel all of her, while still watching her face. Sheer joy kindled in her expression, and he hoped she was seeing it back but he couldn’t think straight. Jael forgot why he was going slow and moved with her, faster, more, harder. Her breath skipped. She bit her lower lip, and he pulled her down for a long kiss as they lost control together. Long moments later, she tumbled sideways and bounced on the mattress beside him.
