It wasn’t as if customers were lining up at his door. Ryder’s impressive size, bulk and menacing features meant that people usually steered clear. Then there was the suspicion that he wasn’t one of them. Gary was the only one who knew the truth about what Ryder really was, and Gary wasn’t talking, so Ryder blended in best he could, kept a low profile and existed until a time came when he ceased to function.
Gary carried his purchases outside, loading them into his kart. He returned a moment later, dragging a crate of goods. He set it down in the doorway, dusted off his hands, and smoothed back his thinning hair. He was a slender, wiry man with an inquisitive face and honest brown eyes. Probably how he made it in and out of City without detection.
“You fighting tonight?” Gary asked.
Ryder nodded. He needed the wheels to go on his special kart.
“I’ll be there, make sure you lose.”
“Don’t I always?” Ryder said.
“Yeah…yeah you do.” Something passed across Gary’s face, a ripple of unease that set Ryder on edge.
Ryder quickly arranged his face in an amiable expression. “You got any chocolate?”
Gary blinked in surprise. “You don’t eat chocolate.”
Ryder shrugged. “Yeah, but I know someone who does.”
Gary’s thin lips stretched in a sly smile. “You got a sweetheart, Ryder?”
Ryder shrugged, and Gary shook his head, slapping his thigh. “I knew it! Hah! Well, good luck with that. My old lady was a sweetheart once too, and look at her now; sour-faced puss if I ever saw one. Make the most of it.” He held up a finger then vanished outside. He returned a moment later with a neatly wrapped bar of chocolate.
Ryder took it, careful not to hold it too tight, not wanting to melt it.
“Stick it somewhere cool. I’ll see you in Under.”
“Yeah, Under.” Ryder watched him leave, heard the kart rev up, and then retreated back into the workshop. He still had three hours before the fight.
He slid on his visor and gloves and picked up his hammer.
He needed to take a break. You never knew when someone was watching and it wouldn’t do to get caught out now. Not after he had remained under the radar for so long. Humans would do anything for money.
One final blow and then he lowered the hammer to the ground.
He could feel her eyes on him like tiny warm pebbles. She couldn’t possibly think he didn’t know she was there. He pretended to wipe his hands on a rag, giving her time to execute her sneak attack.
One.
Two.
Three.
Her little hands pinched his waist and she shouted, “Boo!”
Ryder jumped, hand going to his chest in mock shock. “Dammit! Midge, you scared the crap out of me.”
She giggled crazy-like, a sound he loved. “You said two swears!”
He covered his mouth, his eyes wide. “Oops.” He really needed to watch his language around her.
“What you making?” She craned her neck to see and he quickly pulled a tarp over his creation.
“Nothing for your eyes.”
She pouted, “Oh, come on!”
“Nope.” He grinned.
Midge sighed, her tiny chest rising and falling. “You got any cola?”
“Maybe.”
She smiled sweetly up at him.
“Come one then.” He led the way into this living area, taking it slow on purpose to give her the chance to keep up. The clip of her crutches on the ground told him she was right behind him.
He held open the door for her, watching as she manoeuvred into the room. Her left leg dragged useless behind her, twisted and weak. It barely supported her weight, but Midge didn’t let that get her down. The fact she couldn’t run, jump or play with the other kids didn’t stop her from exploring the town.
Had it only been two months since she’d befriended him?
It was on her eighth visit when it had become obvious that ignoring her wasn’t working. In fact, it seemed to be having the opposite effect, emboldening her to come back again and again, and Ryder’s resolve had cracked. His existence had been lonely for so long, and this girl who kept encroaching on his territory had started to grow on him. They hadn’t spoken yet, but he’d found that he’d become accustomed to her presence, and on the days she didn’t come, he missed it.
So on that eighth visit he’d finally cracked. Sighing heavily, he’d turned to face her, or the box behind which she was crouched.
“Come out, let’s get a look at you.” He’d stood with his hands lose at his side in an unthreatening pose.
The girl, a scrawny and dishevelled thing, grasped the top of the box to pull herself up.
Ryder had frowned when her fingers had slipped and she’d fallen back. He’d stepped forward, forcing himself to stop when he’d seen what had caused her to slip. Her leg, encased in tights, looked too thin...twisted. A pair of crutches lay on the floor beside her. He’d wanted to reach for her, to help her up, but the warning in her eyes, the determined jut to her lip, had kept him rooted to the spot.
He’d know instantly that this child would become a part of his life, and here she was again, rooting around in his tiny fridge.
She pulled out a cola, twisted the top and took a swig. “Ah!”
Ryder sat on the sofa watching her.
“So what you making?” she asked again.
He rolled his eyes. She wasn’t going to give up. He wanted it to be a surprise, but he had another surprise in store for her birthday in a week, so it wouldn’t hurt too much to give her this one now.
He stood and ambled back into the workshop to retrieve his latest creation from under the tarp. She was waiting for him by the sofa and her eyes went wide when she saw what he was carrying.
“Is that…for me?”
Ryder nodded. “I don’t know if it’ll help much, I just thought…” He didn’t know what he’d thought and now at the sight of her trembling bottom lip and brimming eyes he wished he kept his damn ideas to himself.
Midge reached for him. “Put it on, quick.” She sat on the sofa, laying the crutches to one side.
Ryder approached, crouching down to fit the metal brace to her leg. It fit perfectly. He adjusted the leather straps.
Midge’s brow furrowed as she struggled to flex her weak muscles. Her leg bent slightly and she gasped and clapped her hands.
“It’ll mean you only need one crutch,” Ryder said. “It’ll help, I think.”
Midge nodded quickly and, grabbing her crutch, she pulled herself to her feet and took a few experimental steps around the room.
When she looked at him her eyes were bright with excitement. “It feels…stronger, better. Thank you, Ryder.” She walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I love you, Ryder.”
His throat felt suddenly tight, his eyes hot. He didn’t know what to say. He was used to people turning the other way and legging it when he was around. He was used to fear and anger and being alone. This, Midge, was a luxury, one he would do anything to protect.
“I wish Star was here. She’d love you too.”
Ryder laughed. “I doubt that very much.”
He’d heard a lot about the famous big sister; how pretty she was, how strong, how funny, how smart how, well, everything. Midge adored her, but she wasn’t around for some reason, and that pissed Ryder off. How could she have upped and left like that? But Midge seemed to have stars in her eyes when it came to her big sister Star.
Midge gasped as if a thought had suddenly occurred to her. “Maybe you two can fall in love and get married? That would be so great!”
He released her, ruffling her already dishevelled hair. “How about some chocolate?”
“Seriously!”
Nothing like chocolate to change the subject. He turned away, hiding the shadows in his eyes. Love was not for him, would never be for him.
Chapter Two
Star stared at the plate of food before her. It looked…interesting. If s
he was going to maintain her cover then she would have to eat it.
The café around her bustled with noise and the air was filled with a mish-mash of scents, some of which should have had the customers running out the door. But food was food, and the hungry would eat almost anything as long as it was disguised to look like something innocuous—like the rat burger sitting on her plate.
She picked at the limp salad, at least that’s what it looked like it was. Her eyes strayed to the counter where a young man with sandy brown hair and grey eyes was wiping the surface.
Fred. That was his name. Well, that was the name on the document she’d been given, and it was her job to bring him in safely. She watched him for a while. He looked…ordinary, but then they all did. Ordinary citizens with ordinary lives…yeah, right. This guy was dangerous, special, and it was time to get her flirt on.
She adjusted her push-up bra, an expensive investment in the current climate, but it made her small round tits look big and juicy and that’s what she needed on the job, his eyes on her artificial cleavage, a distraction to lure him outside, drug him up and-
“Hey.”
Star looked across the table and deflated. “What are you doing here?”
Ella flipped her long blonde hair and rested her very real, un-pushed-up tits on the table. “I came to take over from ya, love.” Her gaze flicked to the counter and Star followed it to see Fred staring awestruck in Ella’s direction.
“Fuck!”
Ella smiled slow and seductive, more for Fred’s benefit than Star’s. “I think I might, ya know. Been a while. Dust off the cobwebs and all that, plus I hear he’s ‘hot’.”
Star shook her head. “Don’t get him too excited, he hasn’t completely mastered his ability yet. Wouldn’t want a forest fire.”
Ella licked her lips. “No forest to burn, hun.”
Star laughed. She liked Ella. She was sweet, despite her in-your-face sexy persona, because that’s all it was, a persona. It worked to bag and tag the civilians they were trying to protect. Fred was the latest in a long list that they’d discovered. The invasion twelve years ago had killed many, and a percentage of those that had survived the assault had been changed, something inside them altered, or activated, or something. Fred was a pyrokinetic and could be invaluable to their cause.
If Ella was here then it meant Star had been reassigned. She held out her hands for the paper work, but Ella simply smiled.
“You’re going home, Star. It’s time for your leave.”
Star’s heart lifted and then plummeted. Home…it held such mixed emotions.
Ella winked. “Show time.” She stood and sashayed over to the counter, making the most of the curves that God gave her.
Star pushed away her plate and stood. Well, at least she wouldn’t have to eat the rat burger.
Chapter Three
Star stood outside her home, her back against the wall, ears straining. She shouldn’t be here. Being here could get her family in all sorts of trouble, but she missed them, dammit, and it was Midge’s birthday in a few days, and she’d been ordered to come back, so maybe if she lay low, it would be okay. Her mother’s face, stern and forbidding, popped into her mind. She’d made it clear the last time that Star needed to stay away. She may not be able to go in, but she could watch from the outside. Maybe not watch, but at least listen.
She waited for Midge’s high-pitched and excited voice to drift through the window to her right, or her mother’s calm, soothing tones, or even her father’s brusque one, but the house was silent.
Her heart thudded against her rib cage as she slid across the wall and peered through the window. What she saw had her throw caution to the wind and climb in through the window.
She landed light on her feet and padded across the floor toward the bed. Midge lay against the pillows, her face pale and pinched in pain, her brow moist and clammy.
“Oh, Midge,” Star said softly.
Midge moaned, her eyes fluttered open. “Mum?”
Star glanced toward the window. She should leave, now, before it was too late and she was sucked back in, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t leave her sister in pain like this.
Midge moaned again, a sound that morphed into a sob. “Hurts mum.”
“Hush, baby girl, it’s me. Its Sparkle Star, baby, I’m here and I’m gonna make it better, I promise.”
But Midge was gone again, dragged back into oblivion by the sleeping herbs mum had obviously administered. It was the only option when they had no money for painkillers.
Star swallowed the lump in her throat and lifted the blanket that covered Midge’s legs. The left leg was an angry red, twisted and swollen. This was bad. It had to be some kind of infection. Dammit! Ever since the accident three years ago they had lived on borrowed time. The medic they found had saved the leg, barely, and only because mum had begged and pleaded. His opinion had been a more drastic one; amputation. But back then they had believed that a twisted leg was better than no leg. It had been a vanity call that Midge paid for every day.
Midge was a trooper, though. She never complained, even though Star knew she was in some level of pain most days. She adopted a pretty mature attitude for an eight year old. ‘Grateful for what I have, not envious of what I don’t.’ It was what she always said when she was having a particularly bad day. Star would grin and ruffle her hair, deep down seething that her baby sister had to be subjected to this life even though it was all Midge had ever known. What burned was the knowledge of how it used to be; ice-cream, chocolate, parks and school. Yep, even that place she used to hate. She would give anything to offer that life to Midge, but the only way to get close to any semblance of that was to move into City, to become one of their pets, their workers, and that, as far as Star was concerned, was a fate worse than death.
The bedroom door creaked open and stuck, scraping on the floorboards. It had lost a hinge a while back and had never been fixed. Star considered making a run for it.
Don’t come back, don’t you ever come back!
Her mum’s voice was a sharp dagger to her head, but she shook it off and braced herself.
The door finally scraped open and a soft gasp brushed the back of her head.
“Star? Oh god! Star!”
Star tensed as arms enfolded her and then relaxed as her mum’s sobs stained the nape of her neck.
“My baby girl, you came back.”
She turned in the circle of her mum’s arms and blinked in shock at the white streaks laced though her deep auburn hair, the deep lines around her mouth. It had been just over a year. How was it possible that the woman she remembered had changed so drastically?
Her mum released her, wiped her eyes and smoothed back her hair. “If I knew you were coming I’d have put on some make-up.” She smiled, shaky and uncertain.
Star’s eyes welled and she reached for her mum, the same quirky woman who she had left behind, the same woman who had begged her not to leave and then told her never to come back.
“What can I do?” she whispered softly into her mum’s ear.
Mum shook her head. “Pray.”
Chapter Four
“Get out a here you crazy bitch. Ya got a death wish or summat?” The Under guard blocked her path.
“Summat, I guess,” Star said. She tried to peer around him into the all-consuming darkness, the portal to depravity and sin. Yeah, it sounded better and better all the time.
The guard rolled his eyes. “Ain’t happening, chick. Ya better gets.”
It was Star’s turn to roll her eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at the growing queue of impatient patrons and leaned in so she could smell his cheap aftershave, probably bought on the black market from Salvage trading. Either way, he needed her people so she had some leverage.
“What’s your client code?”
He frowned and then his eyes widened in comprehension. “No…”
“Hell yeah. You let me in and we forget all about this, otherwise I find you in our system and I
erase you. Erasure means no real coffee, no tea and definitely no questionable aftershave.”
He shook his head in exasperation. “Dammit, girly, I’m trying to do ya a favour. There’s no rules in the Under.”
“I can live with that.”
He sighed and stepped aside. “I gots a family, a girly too. I need that code or else…”
“Yeah, I get it.” And she did, she understood. Everything had a price, even morals. She walked past him into the darkness, into the Under.
The entrance to the Under was an arch that led into a hive of tunnels. Back in the day, it had been called the Underground; trains had run here. She remembered travelling into the city on one of the trains to go to the museum with her dad. She’d been so excited that day, and the buzz and hum of the city had stayed in her head for hours after she’d come home and lain her head on her pillow.
The Under was still buzzing, but with a different kind of thrill now; the thrill of sex, the smell of blood and gasoline, and the heat and odour of hundreds of bodies.
This was the place to blow off steam in more ways than one, but despite her year as an insider, she’d never been here. Selene and Jules, the other two women her age who worked for the group, had been sent here on more than one occasion on some job or other, but never Star. She’d thrown a paddy about that on several occasions only to be shot down by Garret, her boss. Scoping it out now she was glad she’d been overlooked; the place was a shithole with disco lights. She could feel eyes on her, greedy, hungry, inquisitive, and she lifted her chin and acted as if she belonged.
Her dark hair was pulled back tight and secured in a French braid that accentuated her harsh cheek bones and slanted grey eyes. Her skin was clean and dusky, lips naturally rouged. She knew she looked hot, but down here looking hot could get you in trouble, so she’d made sure to dress tough; combat boots and trousers, a vest, and fingerless biker gloves to protect her knuckles and hide her deformity—a scar obtained during one of her most terrifying moments. Whenever she got scared all she had to do was close her eyes and summon that moment and then compare.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 177
