by Minton, Toby
As Nikki left the gym at the end of day four, Elias's troubled gaze followed her. Then he shared a look with Ace, who was wiping down the heavy bag. Their silent exchange was easy to read. They were wondering if they’d pushed a little too hard, if they’d finally found Nikki's breaking point. Then Elias shifted his eyes to Padre, and he nodded toward the door. It was more request than order, not that the difference mattered to Padre. One bound as tightly as the other for him.
Nodding once, Padre headed for the door, tossing his towel in the hamper as he went. In his mind, he started running through what he should say and what he'd do best to avoid. Talking to Nikki wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Since that day in the Wasteland, nothing about their relationship was easy.
A surprised squeal from the hall broke his train of thought, which was just as well considering whose arrival the squeal announced. He stepped through the doorway knowing exactly who he would see.
Nikki leapt into Corso’s arms with a laugh the tall criminal echoed as he caught her in a tight embrace. Corso spun Nikki around twice before he slid his hands down to her waist, his touch disturbingly casual and familiar. He set her down at arm’s length where she could take in his crooked smile in all its suggestive glory.
Padre pulled his gaze from the criminal’s hands, with an effort, and walked toward the couple, swinging wide to bypass them.
Crisis averted. If anybody could cheer Nikki up, it was Corso. In fact, if there was only one task Padre trusted the criminal to do without fail, and there was, it was making Nikki forget her troubles. Unfortunately, scruples tended to get tossed aside with troubles when the criminal blew through town, but at the moment, the team couldn’t afford to be choosy.
Problem solved, he told himself as he stepped around them to turn the corner. You’re off the hook.
Corso’s arrival couldn’t have come at a better time. His showing up now would give Nikki the boost she needed to get through the first big hump in her training. His arrival was a good thing. Padre knew that in his head. It was the rest of him that wasn’t convinced.
As Padre turned the corner around the couple and started up the corridor, he spotted Cole standing in the doorway to the galley ahead, leaning against the door jamb as he finished off the last of the apples.
That reminded Padre of his supply run tomorrow. With another mouth to feed, they were burning through fresh food at a much greater clip, especially considering Cole's appetite.
Cole stared past Padre as he approached, his gaze on Corso and Nikki with eyes that managed disinterest and intensity at the same time.
Padre wasn't sure what to make of Cole. He'd met the man in passing five years before, but then, as now, he had trouble reconciling competing impressions. His gut said the massive old man could be trusted, but his eyes weren't so sure.
Cole had the long stare of a veteran, his body and bearing giving testament to countless battles. He looked as solid, dependable, and trustworthy as Gideon claimed he was, but he had the eyes of a predator, intense and restless. They were the eyes of a feral dog, and not the curious, cautious eyes of a well-fed pack member glimpsed in the distance. They were the hungry, weighing eyes of a winter-starved loner eyeing its next meal.
Gideon trusted him. He said Cole's story wasn't far removed from Nikki's and Impact's. He also said they needed him. For now, that had to be good enough for Padre. He planned to keep an eye on the man though.
"You don't smell afraid," Cole growled softly as Padre passed.
Padre stopped and turned, his eyes tightening.
"You don't look it either," Cole went on, shifting his gaze slowly from Corso and Nikki to Padre. "Or do you?" The edge of his mouth lifted just slightly.
Padre stared back. He didn't know what game Cole was playing, but he knew goading when he saw it, especially when it was so crudely attempted. For some reason the big man was trying to get a reaction out of him.
Padre had been a target in one way or another all his life—for his size, the color of his skin, his choice of friends, his skills. He'd been confronted by one type of bully or another many times, and he'd learned that every confrontation was different. Every attacker had a reason for preying on others, and the trick to coming out of a confrontation on top was getting a read on what drove your opponent, and attacking it. Sometimes that called for calm words, sometimes intimidation, sometimes force, but the target was always the same. Hurting an opponent, physically or emotionally, rarely ended a conflict for the long term. Hurting an opponent's motivation always did.
Instead of responding, Padre watched and waited. Until he figured out Cole's motivation, he wasn't going to jump to a particular reaction.
The big man took a step closer and lowered his head to put his eyes on a level with Padre's. Doing so required him to hunch quite a bit, but he made the action look natural and predatory rather than awkward. He looked so animal-like, in fact, that Padre relaxed.
When a true predator wanted to kill, he came in swiftly and silently. He didn't announce himself. When he made a show like this, it was because he didn't want to attack. He wanted to scare his enemy instead.
Padre didn't respond in kind, and he didn't smile or laugh or otherwise taunt the big man. Doing so was a sure way to force a predator into action he clearly wanted to avoid. Padre simply waited.
After a few seconds, Cole straightened back up, all trace of menace evaporating from his lined face.
"Not fear," Cole said. "So what is it?" He crossed his corded arms and leaned back against the jamb again. "Why'd you tuck tail and slink off when the snake came for your girl?"
Padre didn't stop the rueful smile or the silent laugh he breathed through his nose. Cole was even more like a dog, or maybe a wolf, than he'd realized. He'd seen through all Padre's walls, sensed what he was feeling, without a word being said. Padre didn't bother playing the denying game. Cole obviously wasn't the type of man to fall for a weak lie.
"To what end?" he asked, his smile fading away.
Cole stared at him like he'd spoken another language. "You want the girl. He's sniffing around her. Why let him?"
"It's…complicated." That was an understatement.
"Doesn't look it. Looks like you're tucking tail and running from a fight you'd win. Why?"
Again, Padre didn't bother denying it. He didn't know why he was suddenly content to discuss something with a stranger that he'd never even discussed with himself, but he had to admit that giving voice to what he'd been feeling was a relief, like opening a pressure valve on a tank on the verge of rupture. He started to respond but held his words as Nikki and Corso approached.
Cole bit his apple core in half and eyed Corso in a way that should have made the criminal give him a wide berth. Corso didn't notice. He had eyes and words only for Nikki as they passed by. He gave her every bit of his attention, like she was the only woman in the world. Padre imagined he treated all his conquests like that, and they usually ate it up. Nikki wasn't, Padre was glad to see. She was enjoying the attention—that was easy to see—but there was hesitation, a lingering sadness that said she wasn't in the mood for his act, not today.
"We're friends, nothing more" Padre said quietly as he watched the two walk toward the hangar. "I made sure of that."
Cole grunted. "The hell's that mean?"
Padre looked back as Cole popped the last of his apple core into his mouth and crunched it under his glare.
"I had a chance to save her brother, and I failed."
He replayed the image in his mind, as he had so many times since that day in the Wasteland. He'd reached the edge of the roof to see the damaged Hunter crouching over Michael, crippled and helpless beneath it. The Hunter was about to deliver a killing blow. Padre had only a heartbeat to act. He'd snapped a sight picture over his primary optics and fired—
"She blames you for not acting when you should have," Cole said with a nod.
Nikki and Padre hadn't spoken, not about that day. She knew the details. She'd begged them out of Eli
as in the days after they buried Michael. But she and Padre hadn't spoken of them. What was there to say?
"I acted," he said, letting the bitterness in his mouth taint his words. "But it wasn't enough."
Cole shifted his gaze to watch Nikki and Corso turn down the corridor to Nikki's room. "Did you kill him?"
"The Hunter?" Padre asked. "No, she did. Even if I had—"
"The brother," Cole cut him off, shifting his gaze back to Padre. "Did you kill the little slip's brother?"
"No," Padre said, seeing where Cole was headed with this. He'd run his thoughts through this maze before. It didn't help.
"But she blames you," Cole said, his heavy brow lowering.
"She must. How could she not?" Padre replied.
Cole stared at him, long and hard—the kind of flat stare that said, "You're a fool." Then he growled a low, sour laugh that said much the same. Shaking his head, he turned to go back into the galley but stopped in the doorway, one hand on the jamb. He looked back at Padre with no humor in his eyes. "You don't get a chance at a woman like that more than once in a lifetime, little man. Take it from an old man who's been there. She's not going to come to you, and she doesn't want to wrap those skinny arms around guilt. She's got plenty." Cole's hard green stare bored into Padre, a stare laced with anger that had little to do with the present.
"Loving a valkyrie is like nothing you've known, little man," Cole growled. "A hard fight, but worth it. Piss away your chance—you'll regret it. Know that."
Nikki
Nikki cracked another snap-flare and giggled like a little kid as the flickering blue image—this one resembling a horse—raced around her arm in a tight spiral before dissipating in a crackle of sparks next to her ear.
If Corso thought less of her for taking such delight in a simple toy, he was wise enough to keep it to himself. He just smiled and shook his head before sliding the last of the hinged tabs toward her with his foot. He offered the bottle as well, but Nikki waved it away as she picked up the snap-flare.
The few sips she’d already taken had done their job. She was riding a fuzzy buzz that was doing its damnedest to put her to sleep. Her body was so exhausted even the cool concrete of the hangar floor felt comfortable at the moment.
She and Corso were sitting next to the mouth of the hangar, the heavy doors open but the ivy screen closed to keep any passing boats from seeing inside. The ivy slightly obscured their view of the sunset, but Nikki wasn't complaining. The added darkness made the snap-flares show up better for Nikki, and not at all for any boats, or so she assumed.
There weren't any passing boats, of course. Not much traffic of any kind in this part of the Sound, but that didn't stop Team Paranoid from taking precautions. The lights in the hangar dropped to a minimum setting long before the sun set each evening. In fact, they had already dimmed by the time Nikki and Corso walked in an hour ago.
For Corso, watching the sunset meant sharing a bottle of rum he'd brought back from his latest job. For Nikki, it meant burning through the pocketful of children's party favors he'd brought along with it. She couldn't have been happier. This was exactly what she needed. Simple, mindless pleasure. No tests. No workouts. No training. No conversation.
"Dare I ask why you're playing soldier?" Corso asked.
Well, limited conversation.
Nikki shrugged and kept her eyes on the snap-flash. She steepled her hands, balancing the tab on her fingertips. Maybe this last one would be a bird. The thought conjured a smile. She would love to see one of these things fly.
"Fair enough, beauty. Keep your secrets. I like a little mystery in a bird."
Nikki shifted her focus past the tab to Corso's grinning eyes. Those eyes, like the rest of him, practically screamed trouble.
Corso wasn't pretty in the classical, chiseled way or in the shirtless poster-boy way, but that only made him more attractive, somehow. Sure, he had the whole tall and dark thing going on, and he was handsome, in an abstract sort of way, but that's not what made him so hard to resist. He had a way of holding himself, a way of moving that made him look so sure of his body, like no part of him was ever out of his control, no matter how tousled and uncaring he might appear. And when he looked at her, his eyes said he was picturing scenarios you couldn't describe without words like "yearning," "longing," and "glistening with sweat." Being wanted like that was the best kind of seduction.
Nikki was drawn to Corso like a moth to a sexy bonfire. She knew getting closer would go nowhere good, but that only made her want to fly toward him faster. Or maybe she was drawn like a bird to a window. What she saw in front of her was really behind her, but by the time she realized she'd already flown through that inviting bright blue sky, she was crashing headfirst into the disaster at the end of the illusion.
Nikki took a better look at that thought then laughed aloud at her tired brain, earning a questioning grin from Corso. She really was worn out, physically and mentally. She shook her head and looked back at the snap-flash instead of clueing Corso in.
A second later his honeyed laugh caressed the growing darkness between them. "Like I said, beauty. Keep the mystery. It suits you."
She didn't have to glance over to know that look was back in his eyes, the one that said everything he was imagining wasn't just possible, it was inevitable. No need to rush or push.
Maybe that's why she liked being around him. The tension was always there, a kissable energy swaying back and forth between them, but it didn't require anything from her. It was content to just be. In a strange way, Corso's blatant attention made their relationship easier than any other in her life at the moment. It was simple, honest.
"So, what was it this time?" she asked, glancing back at him. "Stealing daughters from warlords?"
Corso breathed a more subdued laugh and looked away. That was his tell. It meant he was about to dodge the question, as usual. Honest their relationship might be—transparent it was not. He rarely gave details about his jobs. A part of her thought she should be suspicious, or even jealous. But it wasn't the greater, louder part, the part that enjoyed their relationship as it was, obviously. This quieter part of her wondered what it would be like if they ever turned their tension into action. Neither of them was in a hurry to do so at the moment. Since the Wasteland, Corso had given Nikki plenty of breathing room in the romance department, and she was content to enjoy the space.
"Nothing so glamorous," he replied. "Bit of a cake walk, really. Simple sale to Montez."
"I thought you weren't going to work for her again," she said, seeing the reason for his evasion this time. Corso had talked about his time working for the Caribbean pirate before. Pirate lord was more accurate. Montez had built her organization into a power to rival a small country, and she was in the pockets of every nation or policing force in the region who might think of opposing her. Nobody would touch her, even though she played no favorites when it came to choosing which shipments she targeted. She was a hard woman—ruthless, according to her reputation. Worse than the stories, according to Corso.
Corso had done things working for Montez that he'd rather not remember and definitely not repeat, so he'd said once. He didn't talk about it much, but he didn't have to. Nikki was something of an expert on burying old pain. She knew it when she saw it.
"Not working for," Corso corrected. "Selling to. There's a difference."
"Which is?"
"Control," he replied. "I'm the seller. I'm in control. I go in on my terms and leave on them, regardless of how hard she tries to make me stay."
He said it like he almost believed it.
Nikki had half a mind to call him on the lie. She even went so far as to open her mouth to say something, but she stopped herself. If he wanted to lie to himself, or even to her, who was she to hassle him for it? Gods knew she was the last person who could throw stones.
The truth was she was jealous, as embarrassing as that was to admit, but not in the way he might think. She'd had a taste of what it felt like to be sought
after, to be wanted by someone powerful. To be wanted by everyone, really. After the Sky City job, she and Michael had become public enemies number one and two. They'd been hunted by the cops, by Gideon and his crew, and especially by Savior and the all the forces at his disposal. As fleeting as her time in the spotlight had been, it had made an impression. Now that it was over, filling the emptiness it left behind was proving…difficult.
Nobody wanted her now.
Savior had gotten what he wanted from her in the Wasteland. Now that she'd amped his powers enough to last another few decades, she was useless to him. He'd made an offer for her to join him, of course—that much she remembered from the fuzzy time after her escape—but her epic refusal had marked the end of their relationship. He'd written her off, clearly.
The cops weren't looking for her anymore either. She knew. She'd walked through a chip scanner in Seattle a few weeks back just to be sure, an act that would earn her thirty kinds of lecture from the team, not to mention Michael, if they knew.
But they didn't know about it. Nobody did. That's because nothing had happened. She'd lingered by the scanner at the entrance to one of Seattle's better public markets, but no cops had shown up. She probably had Savior to thank for clearing any warrants she'd racked up in Sky City. Who else could have done it?
Not even Elias and the others wanted her. They tolerated her, sure—put up with her crap, loaned her money and food, all that—but they did so out of pity, not need. She was worthless to them now. They'd wanted a weapon against Savior, and she wasn't it. That weapon had died with Michael, or so she'd overheard Gideon say on the way out of the Wasteland. She was nothing—a little nobody with temper issues. Who'd want that?
"Must be nice," she said, not meaning to. Once she'd started though, she had to finish the thought or leave Corso with another question to mull. "Being wanted, I mean."
He laughed mirthlessly and rolled his eyebrows. "You should know." He took a long pull on the bottle before he looked over.
