Dangerous Lovers

by Becca Vincenza

  “Good evening,” he said.

  “Evening,” she replied. She stopped in front of him. “You ready to do this?”

  “Are you?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, about two seconds away from punching that mocking smile off his face. “Watch it,” she warned.

  “In a bad mood today, Lottey?”

  “I will be if you don’t stop calling me that.”

  The door at the far end of the hall leading to Ludwig’s quarters opened. They both turned to see a skinny girl with long, blonde hair walk out wearing hardly anything at all. Dinah’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Neither of them said a word as she made her way down the hall, head down. When she finally looked up, she noticed them. A small smile touched her face when she spotted Roman, but it instantly vanished when she noticed her. Dinah could have sworn the girl began to shake as she continued, now a little faster, toward them. They both stepped back, letting her walk past. She didn’t look at either of them again.

  Dinah waited until she was out of sight before turning, questioningly, toward Roman. He shrugged. “Don’t ask me,” he said, hands raised.

  She snorted, shaking her head. Like he didn’t know what that was about, she thought doubtfully. He fell into step beside her as she made her way to the stairs.

  “Weapon X strikes again,” he muttered. She looked over to see him fighting off another smile.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped.

  “Didn’t you see her face?” He laughed out loud now. “She was terrified of you.”

  Dinah rolled her eyes, descending the stairs quickly. “Sometimes I think you can learn a thing or two from people like her.” His laughter followed her down.

  She hated cars. Being locked inside a cage of metal set her on edge. Especially a large one like the SUV they were currently in. There were too many people crammed inside, she could hardly breathe. Dinah looked out the window as they drove through the upper section. It wasn’t often that she got to observe like this. Normally when she went out, if she went out, she was on her bike. Speeding down the streets on a Harley-Davidson Iron 883 didn’t give her much of an opportunity to take in her surroundings. She wished she was on her bike now, not sitting in this death trap.

  “Can I ask you something?” Roman said. She turned to look at him on the other side of the bench, waiting. “Do you ever think about your father? Miss him even?”

  “I think he’s a selfish prick who left his family to die for his beliefs,” she answered plainly. “So no, Roman, I don’t miss him.” She turned back to look out the window.

  “What about your sister? Think she’s alive?”

  She looked back. “I’m sorry. Are we having a heart to heart right now?”

  The two soldiers sitting up front tried to hide their snickers, but she heard them. Roman’s mouth lifted in a smile, his eyes bright with amusement.

  “I was just asking,” he defended.

  “I don’t think about her either,” she lied. She thought about her sister all the time, she just didn’t like to admit it. Living with Ludwig had taught her a few things over the years, and one of those was to never show anyone your weakness. Truth be told, she did wonder what happened to Bridgette. At first she had planned to find her, but as the years went by, Dinah had started to lose hope. When she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she wasn’t sure who she was looking at anymore. She had hardened more than she thought possible, and had done things, seen things she wasn’t proud of.

  She closed her eyes against the light outside the window and pictured Bridgette as she was the last time she saw her. It had just been that morning before her sister had left for work, leaving like it would be any other day. Dinah was ashamed of who she was now. How could she possibly see her sister again as Weapon X? Would she look at her the same, or just see the monster Dinah had become? It hurt too much to even think about. Still, she always wondered if she was alive out there somewhere. Was she safe? Happy? Did she miss her? But they were pointless questions really. Most of the people in Leigh the day of the attack were killed. Those who got out had hopped on their boats at the docks. She doubted her sister had been one of them. She was always terrified of being out on the open water.

  “She’s probably dead anyway,” she added, turning to look at him. “You said it yourself, there weren’t many survivors that day. I highly doubt she would have been one of them.” He nodded his head thoughtfully. “Why do you ask?”

  He shrugged. There was more to this conversation than he was letting on, but Dinah kept quiet as she watched him school his features before answering her. If she really wanted to, she could just look in his head and find out, but she really hated doing that to those who were close to her. “Just wondering what you think about when you stare off like that.”

  She looked at him pointedly. “Can you guess what I’m thinking now?” she said. “I’ll give you a clue, it rhymes with duck pew.”

  His eyebrows shot up in mock horror, his hand clasping his chest. “Lottey!” he admonished jokingly. “Not here! I told you, not in front of the others.”

  Dinah pushed him, not that it did any good considering he was the size of a tree. The men up front were laughing freely now, as was Roman. She kept her eyes narrowed at him, before turning to look out the window. It was a good thing she wore her mask all the time, otherwise Roman would be annoyingly aware of how often he made her smile.

  “You can’t hide from me,” he whispered. She looked back to find him leaning in close, his face only inches away from hers. “Just because your face is hidden, doesn’t mean I don’t know when you’re smiling.”

  “Oh?” she said stubbornly.

  “I’ve spent enough years watching those pretty eyes,” he said. “I know how to read them.”

  She shook her head, unable to fight the smile spreading across her face.

  “Right there,” he pointed. “Got you again.”

  “Yeah, well you better watch out or I’ll get you back,” she said. “And trust me, it isn’t nearly as fun.” He laughed, moving back to his side of the vehicle.

  They were leaving the upper section and heading east toward the ghetto. The streets grew grimier, the buildings more run down and damaged. Dinah shivered. The place always reminded her of a ghost town. The population of the ghettos surrounding New Berlin were higher than any of the upper sections, and yet any time she drove through them it seemed desolate. She knew, logically, it had to do with the fact that the people recognized the fleet of cars travelling through their area. No one wanted to mess with the New World army. The lower class didn’t get to have cars, along with electronics of any kind.

  The problem with killing off most of the world’s population, Ludwig had discovered quite quickly, was that it reduced the manufacturing workforce. It also meant less people working to build communication towers, and many other things the old world had an abundance of. Ludwig kept his eastern contacts happy enough so they were still providing him with fuel and such, but the people over here weren’t seeing it. Aside from the army, of course. And a select few of the upper class. Dinah often wondered what Africa was like now that Ludwig had given it over to his arms dealers. She shuddered to think. Was any part of this world a fraction of what it used to be?

  They drove up to the large gates of the eastern ghetto. Two armed guards stepped forward, guns ready. Roman rolled his window down and they immediately stepped back, waving at another man to open the gates. The loud metal creaked in the eerie silence of this section of town. Dinah looked around wondering how the inhabitants managed to hide without her ever catching even a glimpse of them. Did they have their own people watching? Did that mean the ones meeting tonight would know they were coming ahead of time? She hoped not, or Ludwig would be seriously pissed.

  Pete stepped out of his apartment, flipping the collar of his jacket up to protect himself from the drizzle. The streets shimmered in the glow from the street lamps. He walked quickly since it was already eleven thirty and everyo
ne would already be there. Figures he’d be late – again. A vibration in his pocket had him pulling off into an alley. He looked around before reaching in and extracting the small cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Where are you?” the voice demanded.

  “Easy, mate. I’m on my way,” he assured him.

  “Is Bridgette with you?”

  “No,” he answered, quickly reassuring him. “But not to worry, she said she’s willing to meet later tonight. She just can’t come to the pub.”

  “She working?”

  Pete cringed at the distaste lacing those words. “Uh, yeah.”

  An angry sigh filtered through the phone. “Fine. Get your ass over there now.”

  “I’ll see you in a few.” He shut the phone, stuffing it back, deep into his pocket. The amount of shit he could get in for having one was not something he liked to think about. No one, especially not one of the lower casts, were to have a cell if they weren’t in the army. His contacts made sure to drill that into his head. ‘Keep it a secret’ was one phrase he’d heard more times than he could count.

  He stepped out of the alley, picking up his pace. How in the world was he going to get these guys to a meeting with Bridge? At first he had contemplated bringing them to her work, maybe getting a room upstairs so no one would see them. But after hearing the way the General just sounded he didn’t think it was such a great idea anymore. Not that he didn’t understand where he was coming from. Since Bridge had taken that job it had pissed the hell out of him. Sure there were worse places, or so she continually reminded him, but that didn’t make it any better.

  Bridge had been his friend since he was young. He could hardly remember a time that he didn’t know her. For years now she’d been alone, making her own way, and even though Pete wasn’t family, he felt it was his duty to keep an eye out for her. He knew how lonely it could get without family, even though technically he still had most of his.

  Her sister, Charlotte, had been three years younger than him, so he never really knew her, but he could tell it was her loss that troubled Bridge the most. They had been close, as close as sisters can be. He recoiled at the thought of losing one of his brothers, especially back when they were younger.

  “How’s it goin’, McKay?” He looked up to see Tommy Boy walking toward him. He had no idea what his real name was, unless of course it was actually Tommy Boy, though he highly doubted it. Tommy was a regular scam artist, but didn’t give Pete much trouble. For some reason he liked the guy.

  “Tommy, mate,” Pete greeted, grasping hands. “Where you off to this lovely evening in New Berlin? ”

  Tommy smiled. “Got me some cash, so I’m headed over to the Red Lounge. Want me to say hi to Bridge for you?”

  “Yeah, let her know I’ll see her later,” Pete replied.

  “You snogging that yet?”

  “Watch your mouth, mate.” He gave him a quick slap on the shoulder and started walking again.

  “Where you headed?”

  “The pub,” he called back without looking.

  “Tell the boys I say hi, yeah?”

  He waved his hand in the air in reply. How Tommy Boy got enough money to go to the Red Lounge wasn’t something Pete wanted to know, but he knew it couldn’t be good. Turning the corner, he sped through a back alley, coming out the other side right next to the pub. Loud voices and the clinking of glasses could be heard from the street. A few men outside smoking called out greetings as Pete made his way inside.

  The pub was packed. Music played in the background, drowned out by the sound of raised voices and the clack of balls from the pool tables. The air was stuffy but at least it was dry. Pete shook out the damp cold sticking to him, pushing his way through the crowds. Greeting people as he went, he finally reached the back table where the boys all gathered.

  “‘Allo, ‘Allo,” he called out.

  “McKay!” a few voices hailed in return. A full pint of beer was pressed into his hand before he even sat down.

  “Where you been?” Trent asked, leaning in close. His older brother was constantly worried and paranoid. Pete flashed him a carefree grin.

  “Just running a bit late is all,” he said. “Not to worry.”

  “Running a bit late,” laughed Seamus. “I bet. Who was it this time, Chloe? Rebecca?”

  Pete shook his head, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Danielle,” piped in his younger brother Garrett. Pete took a large gulp of his beer, welcoming the cool slide down his throat. His brother and best friend starting laughing as he avoided their eyes.

  “Danielle?” Seamus sputtered. “Jesus, boy. I don’t know how you do it.”

  Neither did he, if he was being honest. It wasn’t like he had much to offer these girls. He just hoped Danielle was smart enough to be gone before he got back. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, because he did. Or at least, he liked her enough not to want to be a complete ass. But there was too much going on in his life to be worrying about relationships and things. Christ, he could barely keep himself out of trouble, he’d hate to bring anyone else into his life permanently.

  “Next time,” Trent said low enough just for him to see, “you deal with personal shit after. Got it?”

  Pete turned to meet his brother’s gaze, all humour gone. “I’m here. Everything is fine. Get off my back.” They stared at each other tensely for a moment before Trent looked away. He might be older, but they both knew who was giving orders around here, and it wasn’t him.

  “Come on boys,” Seamus said, lightening the mood. “The night is still young, and we got a whole lot of fun ahead of us. Let’s not ruin it, yeah?”

  “Yeah,” Pete nodded, shifting in his chair.

  “Have you spoken to the General?” Garrett asked. Pete nodded once. “He still coming?”

  “He’ll be here,” was all he said. More guys came to join their table and soon the conversations turned to regular things. Trent even seemed to lighten up as he laughed at some ridiculous story Seamus was telling, which Pete knew for a fact was a complete lie. His best friend was notorious for stretching the truth.

  “That’s bullocks,” Garrett accused, laughing.

  “You think?” Seamus shot back, sitting up straighter.

  “Absolutely. There’s no way your measly little arms could lift a car all on their own,” his brother argued.

  “Measly?” Seamus gasped. “I’m telling you the truth. The girl was pinned under there and I lifted the damn thing right up.”

  “Sure you did,” Trent said, chuckling.

  “It can happen,” he said. “They say even women can do it when their kids are trapped.”

  “That’s not the same thing,” Trent argued.

  “Why isn’t it?” Seamus waved him off. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. McKay believes me, don’t you, McKay?”

  Pete shook his head with a laugh. “Seamus, you couldn’t even beat me in an arm wrestle if I challenged you. There is no way you picked up a bloody car.”

  Seamus sat back, affronted. “You don’t think I could beat you in an arm wrestle? I could win in less than ten seconds.”

  Laughter broke out around them. Pete kept his gaze on his best friend, fighting back his own laugh. “Oy! You reckon?”

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Garrett said happily. “The two of you, right now, right here. Arm wrestle challenge. Seamus has exactly ten seconds to beat you, or we get to beat him.”

  Seamus groaned. “It’s only fair,” Trent added. “Everyone gets a shot if you lose.”

  “Fine,” he said, conceding. “But no hits to the face.”

  “It might do you some good,” Garrett pointed out. Seamus leaned over and punched him in the arm. Pete shucked off his jacket, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. They placed their elbows on the table, Trent holding their hands together.

  “Alright boys. On three,” he said. It was on. Pete wanted to laugh as Seamus struggled to pin
his arm. Around them, the others called out numbers loudly, counting down the ten seconds. Just as they yelled out eight, the front door to the pub flew open, crashing against the wall. Pete wouldn’t have thought much of it, but the entire place instantly went silent. He saw Seamus’ face tighten as he looked over his shoulder. They broke apart and Pete turned to see what was going on.

  Shit.

  At least fifteen New World army soldiers stepped in, their boots loud on the old, worn floors. But that wasn’t what had him concerned. It was the last two people to follow them in. Roman bloody Adamson and Weapon X.

  Chapter Five

  The noise stopped as soon as they entered. People froze, glasses halfway to their mouths. It was almost comical, Dinah thought. She looked around slowly, taking in the unpleasant smell and feel of the place. It was a dump. How could anyone want to drink here? She doubted the glasses were even cleaned properly. She looked distastefully at the stained floor and bar, deciding it was probably better not to touch anything. It didn’t look sanitary in the least, even though she was wearing gloves.

  She kept her mind closed off for the time being. It was never smart to walk into a room with this many people with her senses open. She would be hit so hard with the thoughts of everyone at once, she’d likely get a migraine. She looked over them slowly. No one met her gaze. Each and every one of them looked down, their faces blank. But she knew they were terrified. She could practically taste their fear.

  “Good evening, gentlemen,” Roman said casually, walking further into the room. His boots echoed off the floorboards. “I hope we’re not interrupting anything.”

  “Not at all, mate,” someone spoke up. “What can we do for you?”

  Dinah followed the voice to its owner and stilled. Her breath caught in her chest as she looked at him. Dear God, she thought, he was gorgeous. Sleeves rolled up to reveal more tattoos than she could decipher, and eyes greener than any she’d ever seen, set in a chiselled face wearing a tight smile that did not reach his eyes. His hair was buzzed short, and yet she had an unnatural urge to run her hands over it. What the heck was her problem?