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The Stolen Sky (Split City Book 2)

Page 3

by Heather Hansen


  “I know. It’s just that I want to help people. That’s what the Ghost was about, you know? And now? How can I do that when there isn’t even VitD in the city?” He referred to his vigilante work with his guard, Saben, stealing VitD from his father and redistributing it to the poor and the neglected children. That had ended badly with the Ghost being killed and Dade blown off a skywalk.

  Arden sighed. She didn’t know how to make it okay. And she wasn’t exactly good at saying stuff that would make people feel better. Especially when she didn’t think it was the truth. She kissed his skin again, instead.

  “You need to go to sleep.” Dade pulled away for a moment to shift things around on the side table. He made sure the phaser was where he could easily grab it. “I’ll stay awake to make sure no one breaks in.”

  She didn’t care about any of that. Reaching out, she turned his face to hers, demanding his attention. “Kiss me.”

  “You’re hurt.”

  Arden laughed. “You are too. Kiss me anyway.”

  She thought he’d put her off. But Dade wasted no time pushing his mouth to hers. Their touch was soft at first, yet quickly turned hot and desperate. Arden moaned and clutched at the back of his head, keeping him there. Wanted his lips on hers forever.

  This was what it felt like to come home.

  Several minutes later, they pulled apart. Their mouths held inches from each other, sharing breath while their gazes connected.

  “You’re not going to make me forget that your face looks like it was used to stop a hovercar,” Arden said.

  Dade grinned and kissed her again. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

  That was all she could do, sit in this bed and think about what trouble he was getting into without her. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Okay,” Dade said. There was a look of regret and pain in his eyes. “But you’re not going to like it.”

  She’d already figured out that part herself.

  CHAPTER THREE

  To call the boxing club “sleazy” would be an understatement. It wasn’t like Breck’s Gym that Dade and Saben had often used for cover when they coordinated the Ghost missions. This place didn’t have a name or a storefront. It was off grid and illegal, not sanctioned by the govies. Which meant that there were no rules. Most of the competitors who fought here were indentured. Paying off debts with flesh and bone. The fights often ended in death because a winner wasn’t called soon enough or medical treatment wasn’t administered in time.

  The club was dirty. Dade could practically smell disease. The air was thick with sweat and a musty odor that soaked into the walls. It was in the Levels, far into the Zero district where only the most disreputable went. The buildings had been neglected, adding to the cavernlike feel. Water dripped constantly from overhead, keeping the walls moist with condensation.

  He led Arden through the back rooms, hoping that the activity surrounding them would cut off her questions until they were done.

  Arden was smart, though. She knew what kind of place this was. He could feel her glare boring into his back.

  He ignored it the best he could. But he knew that it was only a matter of time before she told him just how shortsighted he’d been to get caught in his current predicament. Telling her back at the boardinghouse had been one thing, but Arden’s seeing it was completely another. It was so much worse being here.

  She’d insisted on coming, partly because she wanted to know the entire scope of the problem and partly because she was stubborn, even if she was not well enough to walk for long periods of time. That didn’t seem to be a factor in her decision. Apparently, sheer determination was enough to keep her moving. And she was pissed.

  Dade let out a resigned sigh.

  Arden glared.

  He smiled sweetly at her. If the situation were reversed, he’d be every bit as angry. Dade hadn’t told her why he’d signed this contract. Perhaps she thought that he’d concluded it was the best way to make credits. That wasn’t it. When she found out what was really at stake, he was sure she’d forgive him.

  Perhaps.

  No one stopped them as he took her down the back hall. The owners of the indentured boxers used these tunnels to move their fighters to the public areas where the bets and matches took place. The fighters were easy to distinguish. They looked somber and mean, most with smashed noses that had awkwardly healed into flat shapes, their skin littered with scars.

  Arden tensed when they entered the caging areas. These enclosures were used to keep the indentured fighters from fleeing. Most of them came from other cities, working here to pay off the debt of their tickets, though he was sure there were local fighters who’d incurred debts as well. It was illegal, this form of slavery, even if the govies did nothing to stop the exploitation. As long as it wasn’t visible to the public, they could pretend it didn’t exist.

  “Why are we here?” she asked, her voice low and angry.

  Dade gave a slight shake of his head. Answers meant seeing—understanding. No matter if it felt like his soul had cracked open.

  He reached out to lightly touch her back and then steered her farther down the long row of cells. Most cages housed several occupants for cost-effectiveness. Each cage had a couple of sleeping pallets and a toilet.

  The atmosphere was thick with despair. It pressed on Dade’s nerves like a toothache. He hadn’t gotten used to visiting here. It made him unsettled, and when a shiver wracked Arden, he imagined she felt the same.

  As soon as they stepped alongside the first cage, the yelling began. The fighters catcalled and made profane suggestions. The sound reverberated, aching in Dade’s skull.

  Arden’s posture didn’t waver in spite of how tired she looked. She stiffened, and her chin tipped up while her gaze took in their surroundings. Anger burned in her eyes when she looked at him. “Why?”

  He didn’t know what she was asking specifically. Why they were here? Or how humans could treat other humans this way? The first she’d know almost immediately, so he didn’t respond. The second he couldn’t answer.

  A quarter of the way down the row, he stopped and turned to look into a cage with a sole occupant. He sat on the cot, his large body hunched forward. Only his brown arms resting on his knees were visible. Dirty, unbound hair covered his face. His posture signaled defeat.

  It took a moment, but when she was calm enough, she asked, “Is that Saben?”

  “Yes.” Dade stood as close as he could to the barrier that separated them without crossing it and getting shocked. It was made from an electrified plasma shield much like the one that was used on the med bed. A line ran on the floor, indicating where the barrier stretched. They could speak through it well enough, and the swirling blue sheen looked innocuous except for a faint buzzing that warned of danger. He called out to Saben, saying his name loud enough to be heard over the fractious noise of the cell room.

  They’d taken away Saben’s weapons and his X-brace, the strap that crossed his chest and back in an X. It didn’t make Saben appear any less lethal. Dade knew that his friend had been better cared for than the others, having been allowed a shower once a week and given a tunic and cloak for the chill. Still, he looked haunted when he turned his glare on Dade. “I told you not to come back.”

  Of course that wasn’t an option. Dade would never allow his friend to suffer when he had even the smidgen of a chance to make it better. There was heavy guilt that factored into it too. It was because of Dade that Saben had ended up here. Dade had asked Saben to dress up as the Ghost and attempt to fake Dade’s death, leading to circumstances that had forced Saben to seek the help of his contacts in the pits. All the while, Saben and Dade had thought the other dead until Dade had found him here.

  Saben had worked for his family. Had been his personal guard for years. Yet he meant more to Dade than simply an employee. He was a friend, a brother. Dade would do anything to right this situation that he’d inadvertently caused.

  “What have you done, Dade?” Ar
den asked from behind him. “What have you both done?”

  They’d made a deal with the devil. He knew it had been a fool’s bargain when he struck it. But he hadn’t seen any other way to get Saben out.

  “I told you not to get involved,” Saben accused, his gaze intense. “This is not your fight. Turn around and walk away from here. Tell Crispin that you changed your mind. Get out of your contract.”

  Dade blew out a breath and shook his head. “The day you came into my life and offered me friendship with no strings attached was the day I knew I’d fight to keep you in my life. You saved me . . .” He paused to think through what he wanted to say out loud, knowing that anyone could overhear. Then he spoke softly. “I wouldn’t be here without you. So don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

  Saben shook his head. “You can’t help me. You can only make it worse.”

  “I want you to trust me.”

  “This is more than stealing VitD, Dade, or even fighting in the pits for me. You have to be careful.”

  Arden stepped forward. Dade felt the heat from the plasma shield flare as she neared it. Addressing Saben directly, she asked, “What did he do?”

  “Made a deal with Crispin to buy my way out,” Saben told her. Then he looked at Dade. “You know he’s not going to let either of us go.”

  “I didn’t promise him servitude,” Dade said.

  Saben chuckled. It was a hollow sound. “It doesn’t matter. That man can twist a bargain.”

  “Who’s Crispin?” Arden asked.

  “That would be me,” said a jovial voice from down the aisle. “I’ve looked forward to meeting the infamous Arden Murray. The vid-feeds make you out to be a warrior goddess. I have to say, you’re looking quite the worse for wear, darling.”

  Dade closed his eyes, his head slumped forward. Fantastic. They’d have this confrontation today too. He’d hoped that he could avoid this problem for now.

  When he opened his eyes and lifted his head, it was to see Saben looking at him, amused. He stood up and approached the barrier directly in front of Dade. There was a sparkle to his eyes that hadn’t been there moments before, a smirk that hovered on the corner of his lips.

  Arden turned to the man behind them, the movement stiff. There was rage in her expression. She was lethal and cunning, which Dade had forgotten over the last few weeks.

  Dade rolled his eyes at Saben’s silent tease, then turned and stepped closer to Arden to make sure she wouldn’t kill Crispin. They didn’t need that quite yet. And honestly, he hoped to avoid that altogether, not that he hadn’t considered it a time or two in the past week.

  “Who are you?” Arden asked Crispin. Her hand had moved to rest on the phaser strapped to her side.

  Crispin was unlike any crime lord Dade knew. He might be a devil, but he looked like an angel. Curly hair fell in ringlets around his face, framing eyes that sparked with mirth and a mouth that was always upturned. He was ever quick with a laugh, as if there were a joke others didn’t understand. Showing off a pirate’s smile that flashed three gold teeth, which oddly added to his persona rather than detracted from it.

  There was something calculated about Crispin’s appearance that bothered Dade. His features were so precisely cut that it was as if he’d been genetically altered. He was young to run such a vast criminal empire, but Dade didn’t doubt that he’d controlled it using cunning and sheer determination.

  This underground fight club belonged to Crispin. Though the fighters weren’t his. Well, except for Saben and himself. Crispin was the man behind the curtain. He rented out the cages and pimped the fights. So far he’d treated Saben well, getting him medical attention and meals.

  He also had legitimate businesses, ones that he publicly claimed. The most important of these were the casinos through which he funneled Solizen money. Dade was sure that Crispin had his hands in many other dark dealings.

  In spite of all that, Crispin was insufferably likable.

  Unlike the Twins who flanked Crispin on either side. The boy and girl were small and pretty. They looked maybe thirteen or fourteen. They had large round eyes and cropped short hair, and were dressed in identical dark tunics like little killer elves.

  Dade didn’t need to see them in action to know they were good at their job. The way they moved like liquid in glass—all flowing motion and grace—told the story better than words could. The arsenal of knives they’d strapped to their bodies underscored the point. Over the last week they’d appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if they were part shadow.

  “I’m hurt that you’ve never heard of me.” Crispin reached forward to take Arden’s hand. He made an exaggerated show of leaning over and kissing it.

  Dade felt his anger rise as he watched Crispin’s lips meet Arden’s skin and linger there.

  “Now that we’ve finally met, I’m sure you’ll find our acquaintance mutually beneficial.”

  Dade’s mouth thinned. “Not likely.”

  Arden’s only response was the tightening of her other hand into a fist. She didn’t look away from Crispin. Then she did that thing where her stance subtly relaxed, and she suddenly appeared to be softer, nonthreatening. It was a lie, a cunning deception of femininity. Dade knew her to be viciousness ready to strike.

  Crispin noticed the change as well, evidenced by his now-gleaming teeth. But he didn’t seem worried in the slightest. He released Arden’s hand and turned to Dade. “Your match is in half an hour. I thought you weren’t going to make it. I was about to send the Twins to remind you that punctuality counts.”

  The Twins grinned.

  Dade grit his teeth. “I wouldn’t be late.”

  He couldn’t read Arden’s expression when she stared at him. It seemed to say all kinds of things. Mostly, Are you dumb? Which was something he’d found himself asking a lot.

  “Ticktock,” Crispin said in a singsong voice. “You should go prepare.”

  Crispin turned to Arden. He offered her an arm to escort her. “We can have a chat while Dade is working.”

  “Leave her out of this,” Dade said. He fought to keep his panic from erupting. He didn’t want her entangled in this web of lies and favors. “She’s not part of our deal.”

  “I want to see Dade fight,” Arden said, lifting her chin.

  Crispin gave them both a fake pout. He said to Arden, “I’ll let the Twins take you where you can watch. We’ll have that chat later.” His gaze slid to Dade. “Together.”

  That sounded marginally better. Dade needed to make sure he was still standing at the end of this fight. All bets were off if he got knocked out. He couldn’t leave Arden to deal with Crispin alone. Not when it was his mess to clean up.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Arden forced herself to look straight ahead and swallow back the sickness that climbed up her throat. The fight was horrible to watch. She wanted to cringe each time a fist struck flesh. The wet crunching sound followed by shouts of glee made her sick to her stomach.

  She had never had a problem with fights before. Had been in many more than she could remember. In fact, if she’d been in the ring, she’d have no problem with it whatsoever. But this one was different. It was Dade in the ring because of some foolish manipulation. One she didn’t know the context of, nor was there anything she could do to stop it.

  Dade held his own even though he was unevenly matched. His opponent had at least fifty pounds of muscle on him. Dade was wiry and knew how to move, so that helped. He circled the ring on swift feet, returning more hits than he took. Still, the other guy’s fist made forceful contact with Dade’s face more often than Arden liked.

  Her stomach twisted with each cracking thud. While her heart squeezed in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. But Dade didn’t seem concerned, dancing forward to meet his opponent punch after punch.

  Perhaps she would have understood if she knew why he fought. What deal he had made and how Saben was involved. If she had context for this craziness, maybe she could have helped Dade figure out anot
her option. Not that she blamed Dade for trying to save his friend. She’d have done the same. Especially after seeing him in that cell.

  Frustration filled her the longer she stood in this crowd. Did he not trust her? Perhaps he thought her weak. If she had pulled her weight since they’d decided to make a break from their previous lives, he wouldn’t have had to make that choice.

  And this was still the case. Being here drove home exactly how much her body had deteriorated. She hadn’t anticipated just how much energy it took to navigate a crush of people. Arden had been on her feet too long today. Already a headache burned at the back of her skull.

  As she watched the fight, she kept her eye on the crowds as well. Lasair, her former gang, might be here, and if any Lasair members saw her, she’d be dead. Crispin knew who she was, and that compromised her safety. He seemed slimy enough to sell her whereabouts.

  She noted each exit. They were all too far away for her to make use of them, her escape routes cut off by the crowd and her inability to move quickly. Her best bet was to slip back the way she’d come, from behind the ring.

  Yet the Twins flanked her. Clearly keeping Arden leashed.

  That was how she thought of them: as capital “T”—Twins. As if they were one entity. A pair that had formed a unit in utero and could not exist as individuals each on their own. They communicated with each other silently, their macabre movements perfectly in sync.

  They did offer her some respite from the crowd, though. Their presence created a barrier that she wouldn’t have been able to pull off alone.

  The match was coming to an end. She could feel it as she did with most fights. Though the outcome was yet to be decided.

  She saw Dade’s opponent move, his arm swinging in an upward arc.

  Dade was too slow to avoid the fist to his face. It landed square on his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and blood and saliva spat from his mouth.

  Arden cringed as the crowd went wild. Even the Twins grinned, their expressions vicious.

 

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