Lilly’s head snapped up. He stared at the woman who was just settling down on a stool to his right, way too close for comfort. She had curly dark hair, hands clasped loosely and resting on the bar counter’s smooth surface.
She wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was staring off into the direction of the kitchen, where Yoshua had gone, a light smile on her face. It looked far too smug.
Yoshua brought out a bowl of steaming stew for Lilly. He didn’t blink as the woman ordered one for herself, and disappeared back through the door.
Finally, Lilly found his voice. It was hoarse and shocked and hostile, but he didn’t care. ‘What are you doing here?’
Sarah Pike grinned and she glanced over at him for a beat, that smugness spreading across her face. ‘Best stew in town,’ she replied, as if that explained everything. Her bowl arrived and she breathed in the steam, sighing deeply. ‘Hmm. I come here every Tuesday on my break, just for this.’
She what now? An Intelligence Agent, working for the cops, frequenting the number one site for criminal exchange? ‘Yoshua lets you?’
Pike shrugged. ‘It helps maintain a civilized atmosphere. Reminds people that even though this is neutral ground, and I’m mostly deaf and blind when I’m here, its not an asylum. It’s neutral ground. The second someone loses blood in here, we’re stepping in.’
‘You’re not the only one enforcing the system.’ Yoshua would flip if anyone got violent in here.
‘But the only ones doing it legally. Everyone is happy with the arrangement so far.’ She started in on her stew, savouring it in small bites.
Lilly stared at his food. Law enforcement presence in here. When Pike said “we”, was she talking about the Agency, or the police? More importantly, had she overheard his conversation with the broker? Was she going to use the knowledge that he was selling something today?
Could she, if the bar was truly neutral ground? She shouldn’t. Everything heard in here should be circumstantial. It shouldn’t hold up in court. That would make the Stove unsafe. It would disrupt the delicate balance of the system.
Plus, Yoshua wouldn’t let her stay, if she ran a real risk of using her presence to gather information. He wouldn’t, surely.
What about an arrest? Pike shouldn’t be able to make one in here. But the second Lilly stepped outside, he could be fair game. Would someone tail him back to the apartment? Would the police allow that, or rebuke her in favour of their unspoken deal with Yoshua? Which was more important?
He guessed, and hoped it was the system, and not a few arrests.
‘Don’t be so nervous,’ Pike said next to him.
Easier said than done.
‘I’m not even supposed to be here. If I tried to bring you in, it would be my neck on the line. And I happen to like my job. We prefer the controlled environment over the chaos and backstabbing. It’s more comfortable in the long run to turn a blind eye. Not officially, of course.’
‘Then what do you want?’, he growled, trying a bite of stew to distract himself with something. The food was strangely stale on his tongue, reflecting his mood, but it was still delicious. Rich and sweet and a little sour. His glasses fogged and only cleared up when he leaned back from the bowl to chew.
Pike shrugged. ‘Would you believe me if I said it’s a social call?’
He snorted. She’d tried that once before, when she’d arrested him years ago. The good-cop-bad-cop play, just with Agents. Good-spy-bad-spy, then? She had tried to appeal to his conscience, claiming that she was only looking out for him, that he was “wrecking his own future”. Some good the speech had done, with him joining up with Orion later.
‘Okay, so not quite just a social call,’ Pike admitted, a bit sheepish. ‘I’m here to make sure you know what you’re getting into.’ She leant closer. ‘Rivers will not let this slide, you know. What you’re doing has gone far beyond teenage rebellion.’
Lilly gave her a cold stare, ignoring the allusion. His family relations had been a popular topic of rumour for years, and he wasn’t exactly fond of anyone bringing up that he shared a surname with Max Rivers. Even from her, the warning was more patronizing than anything, and she knew he was no little kid.
Maybe she thought he was the spoiled son of a crime boss. That he passed the time by rebelling against his father and stirring up trouble, in the knowledge that his daddy’s relations would keep him out of jail and off the hit lists. And she still pretended that she cared for him, that it would be of any concern to her if he simply disappeared one day.
Pointing any of that out would make him sound even more like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
‘Your concern is heart-warming,’ he ground out instead, ‘but I know what I’m doing. We all do. You just get the outside view, so please spare me and don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about. I’ve been right in the middle of this whole mess for years. Your job? At the end of the day, you get off duty and go home to your normal life, where this game is off. Where you’re your own person outside your profession, and everything just goes away.’
He leaned forward. ‘What’s your biggest concern at home? Bills? You’re paid enough. Feeding your cat? Advancing your career? Whether you can afford that car you’ve always wanted? Do you know what my “normal” looks like? It’s this, right here. I don’t put it away, ever. I don’t get time off. I run the same risk of fights and hits and arrests and all that other crap any time of the day, not just active work hours. This isn’t a full-time job, it’s my life. No “civilian persona” I can go back to.’
She stared at him, taken aback. Lilly scoffed. ‘So believe me, I know exactly what I’m getting into.’
Pike studied his face. Looking for something, maybe. Lilly wondered if she could understand what he had said, if she could grasp what it meant never to let go of the risk. To have visits to Eliah be his only relief.
To always wonder if someone could recognize him, if the door to his apartment would be kicked down in the middle of the night. If the clerk at the drug store down the street would call the cops on him. If someone would find him, and finish him as retribution for some job he’d done.
Probably not. Was she trying, at all? Did it matter to her, like she claimed?
Lilly held her gaze for a few seconds, then turned away and shook his head. He finished his still too hot stew in record time, threw another bill onto the counter, and stood to leave. She was just pitying him.
I’m doing this out of choice. Not as a joke, and not for a lack of alternatives. I have a reason.
‘Alex...’
He flinched. Pike’s voice broke, and she cleared her throat, words tight, controlled. Sounding as if she held back her emotion. A convincing performance.
‘Take care.’
He stood for a moment, fighting to get his voice under control, fighting against the notion that she might be sincere. When he finally answered, he didn’t quite manage to keep the cynicism from his words. ‘Yeah. You, too.’
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The city smelled wonderfully. It had rained last night, and the last remnants of water sat in the rising heat, slowly drying and evaporating and pulling the odour of water and dirt back up into the air. Where the sun hadn’t reached the street yet, murky puddles sat among the asphalt, and Orion soaked up that typical clean-air scent that would only last until the asphalt was dry again.
Rain always seemed to wash the city clean. It beat down the rank smell of warming garbage, sweat and too many cars and left cold, sharp air. The cooling weather only helped with that.
Of course, the grime was still there. Where the morning sun reached, the puddles dissipated. With the water, all the dirt and dust rose again, climbing to hang in the air and be joined by new exhaust fumes and decomposition. A new layer of typical city air.
But for now, just for a few more minutes, Orion could relish the illusion of cleanliness. It was like when the first snow hit the city, white and pure and clean. It would take less than an hour for the ice to melt into dirty mush mixed with cigarette butts and mud, but for that not-quite-an-hour, everything was fresh.
Orion took another deep breath, nostrils flaring to take it all in. A moment of purity. He’d been living in cities for far too long, away from any semblance of clean air and untouched nature. Well, there were no high-speed connections outside the cities, and no criminal underground to play and rob. He would have to make do with moments like this.
And so, Orion loved the aftermath of rain. The puddles were inconvenient for any kind of work on his part, and that gave him the opportunity to enjoy it that much more.
He’d have been anxious if there was a time limit, a job to be done with urgency. But there was no job today, no work, no climbing on rooftops and running away and inevitably slipping on the leftover water. He could just enjoy the scents and the calm.
Orion knew he should be upset that there was no job right now. No job meant that they had no new leads, nothing to go on, no way to find Michael. Moving on Dan Shio again so soon after the warehouse disaster was out of the question, unless they wanted the man to personally hunt for them. Orion’s side was still sore, and he had no desire for another close call right now.
As for the usual work - the small, safe jobs to pull in cash to get them by - Orion was on forced holiday. He didn’t know if there even was a job for Hounds in the making, as the other two wouldn’t tell him, and they certainly wouldn’t let him participate. Poison in particular was aggravating. She hovered around him all the time to make sure he wouldn’t over-exert himself.
In a way, Orion was glad she and Lilly kept him out of commission for a while. He had talked Poison into letting him out into the city on his own, and he was acutely aware of his healing wound. Every block or so, he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, and his side twinged whenever he moved the wrong way.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Still, he was glad to be out and about. If Poison had gotten her way, he would have been stuck at home for another two weeks, his only exercise the walk to the bathroom and back. Thankfully, he had managed to soften her resolve after ten days of mind-numbing bed rest. He had an hour, and the permission to wander as far as he could manage and be back in time. It was a small step in the right direction.
Orion closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Too deeply, going by the stinging in his side, turning the breath into a quick cough. He winced and opened his eyes again. No deep breaths meant no exaggerated sighs to annoy Poison. Great. How was he supposed to adequately react to her jokes, then?
He wondered how much longer he had. He really should turn and get back. He considered for a moment, then decided to damn Poison’s rules and keep going for a bit longer. He could always call ahead and tell her he was going to be late.
A movement in the corner of his field of vision caught his attention. Shadows moving in an alley to his right. A muffled groan, then silence.
Cautiously, both because of his injury and the risk of what he might see, Orion moved to the edge of the alley and peered around the corner.
He made out a form among the shadows. Two figures, standing close together, silhouettes barely separate, edges bleeding into one another.
Orion was about to turn away and give them privacy when one of the silhouettes twitched and became distinct. It slumped against the wall. A gurgle, a twitch, and then nothing.
The second shape glanced at the dying man at their feet, then stepped back and looked up, directly at Orion.
A shudder ran down between his shoulder blades. Pale brown eyes met his; cold, numb, uncaring. Eyes he knew too well for comfort. Orion forced himself to breathe.
Jordan regarded him for a moment, then turned briefly to kick the corpse over onto its side.
Orion swallowed past the lump in his throat. This is how things are. The sun rises and sets, people go about their business, and some poor bastard that annoyed Max Rivers is offed in an alley. Normal day. For some people.
A small, cynical part of Orion reminded him that, a few years back, he had been one of those people. This had been his kind of normal, his kind of associates, even his kind of everyday business.
Jordan was looking at him again, questioning, challenging. Orion couldn’t make out more than his eyes and the general shape of his face. It was enough to bring back memories he wanted desperately to forget.
Not the time. Orion pulled himself together, nodded a quick greeting, and hurried on down the street. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Jordan’s expression relax into a grin. His stomach was an uneasy knot at the far too easy acceptance of his presence. Jordan hadn’t treated him like an outsider, like someone who shouldn’t have seen what he had just done. Like a witness.
He had treated him like an old friend. Orion felt sick.
People die all the time. Nothing I can do about it. People also get killed all the time. By people like Jordan. Or the get robbed, by people like me.
Was that justification for Jordan’s line of work, or for his own? For the time the two had overlapped, when he and Jordan had actually been friends?
Orion shook his head. He was doing this, now, his work with Hounds, for a greater cause. They were working towards a goal. One worth committing crime to achieve.
That sounded like it came straight out of a movie. Besides, Jordan worked for a cause, too, right? He didn’t just go randomly murdering people.
And even though Orion was working towards something, after he’d gotten it, he would… What, stop? Maybe. No, definitely. He was doing this for a reason. So what if he happened to enjoy his job along the way?
The way Jordan enjoys his?
Didn’t change the fact that what Orion did needed to be done.
Doesn’t change the fact that I’d still do it if I didn’t have to.
No. He was acting out of necessity, and nothing else. For a cause.
And before I met Lilly?
Survival. Necessity. Nothing else. Everything else would make him a criminal, a true criminal, would mean he didn’t care about the people he hurt.
Do I? When have I ever? I didn’t need to steal before I met Lilly. I could have turned away. But it was comfortable, familiar. I’ve always liked it. Going to excuse it away with a difficult childhood? I never had a problem with what I am. Why do I now?
Because it would make him like Jordan, and that was the one thing he had tried so hard not to become. It was the reason he had run away all those years ago, the reason he was still hiding so much. He didn’t want to be Jordan.
And he wasn’t. He had chosen a different path. His sense of morals was not askew. He was not Jordan. His inner voice could go fuck itself, he was not Jordan.
Orion shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and quickened his steps, leaving the alley behind. The air didn’t seem quite as fresh any more. Maybe it was time to head back.
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The tea was hot on Poison’s lips, almost as to burn her, but only almost. She took a sip, let it roll over her tongue in a bite of mint. It went straight down her throat without her body having the chance to absorb and cancel out any of the heat. She could feel the liquid travel down into her chest with a pleasant sting, barely this side of comfortable. She exhaled in content, letting her breath cool her mouth.
The first sip was precious, the heat of the water and the sharp edge of mint teasing along a cool throat. For the next sip, she would be accustomed to the sensation and not register it in as much rich contrast. That was why the first sip was always the best.
Poison set the cup back down on the café table and opened her book. The paperback’s worn, almost battered spine flopped without resistance or sound to open on the first page, and she flipped it back. Poison stroked a finger over the edges of the cover where the print was coming loose. It was leafing off after too many water drops and bumps, being packed and unpacked, the material macerated after the seams had split.
The picture on the front was riddled with white lines where the cover had broken apart or come off. The title on the spine was illegible. Even on the front it was barely legible, and Poison could just make it out, though only because she knew what it said.
Flipping the book open again, Poison traced a finger over the spot on the second page where a stray drop of coffee had made the paper just a little darker, a little coarser to the touch.
She took another sip of tea, the first bite of heat gone to leave the pleasant taste of fresh mint leaves, crushed just before being submerged in boiling water. She held the cup to her stomach and started in on the prologue. This would be a relaxing morning for once, and it started with her very favourite first sentence.
It’s funny, Vasher thought, how many things begin with me getting thrown into prison.
The words welcomed her back into a familiar world, one she was comfortable visiting, where she felt at ease. She had no trouble losing herself into it again in a matter of seconds. The memories of her first visit, her first delve into a then new story, came back to her. That world that had made everything be all right at a time where it hadn’t been. A bit of bitter-sweetness. Poison loved returning there, because it reminded her of what had been, and that it was over.
She lost herself in the words.
Just one page in, when she could almost taste blood in the air and feel cold stone against the soles of her feet, someone came to a stop next to her.
Poison tensed, but she kept her eyes fixed to the page and waited for them to go away. She moved her gaze over the words without paying them any heed, focused completely on the person no two steps away.
The person shifted their weight. A spoon slid around the rim of a cup.
‘Is that seat taken?’
Poison looked up, ready for a snappy response, but stopped as the quiet, soft voice and calm tone registered. She glanced up at a girl with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands. Polite smile, relaxed posture. There was a book stuck under her arm.
The girl raised an eyebrow, and Poison realized she was staring. She quickly glanced back down and gestured at the other chair, mumbling something that was once supposed to mean “sure, go ahead”.
The girl chuckled quietly, set her cup down on the small, round table, and sat. Poison glanced over the top of her page, but the girl had opened her book and begun reading. Absently, she pulled off her wool hat, leaving strands of hair sticking wildly in all directions. The girl didn’t bother smoothing them down, already sunk into the depths of her book.
Poison grinned to herself and traced back to where she had stopped paying attention to her own story. She re-read the last sentence and stepped back into the plot with ease. The world around her quickly disappeared once more, replaced, unimportant. It could wait.
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An hour later, after bidding the strange girl goodbye with a smile and a nod, Poison left the café and started towards the Stove. It was a bare ten minute walk and she enjoyed the feeling of solitude in the middle of a busy city. Everyone hustled and ran and hurried, and she had nothing to do aside from strolling along and watching them.
She had messaged ahead to make sure Orion was on his way. Instead of meeting back at the apartment and then leaving again, they had decided to meet somewhere in between and go directly to the Stove from there. Lilly was still at the place from his meeting, and they’d poke at their plans a bit more. Besides, Orion wanted to talk technical stuff with Eliah.
Her phone vibrated. A message form Orion. Poison stopped in her tracks, causing a man to almost stumble into her. He bypassed her, grumbling and scoffing. Poison ignored him and continued walking, taking a right at the next intersection. She glanced at the message again, and looked out ahead.
Soon, Orion came into view, walking slowly down the street, in the same direction as her. She caught up to him.
‘Hey, what’s up?’
He turned towards her and smiled, but she could see the strain behind it. His wound was tolling him much more than he wanted to admit.
‘Hey. I know we wanted to try that smoothie place today, but I checked their menu online, and they don’t have anything with plums.’
All right, they couldn’t go to the Stove head-on, because there were – for some gods-forsaken reason – cops in the area.
Poison sighed and played along. ‘And so the eternal search for the mystical plum smoothie continues.’
Orion scoffed. ‘I had that smoothie once, and it was awesome. People don’t appreciate plums. Come on, I don’t poke fun at your weird stuff, either.’
‘All right. Where to then? I need to pick up a phone charger, anyway.’
‘So, electronics store and then look for a place to eat?’
‘Sounds good.’
Since the front door was not an option, they would circle around and enter the Stove through Eliah’s workshop. Lilly would let them in.
When they had first started to work with Eliah, and therefore frequented the Stove much more often, Orion had suggested they implement a code to coordinate meetings. It was simple, and silly, but it worked. What was that thing Orion said? “Precautions are overkill until you leave them off”?
They set off again. Poison decided to take their forced detour as a minor setback at most. So they had to take the long way around. They had time enough on their hands. Not like there were any jobs waiting, or any deadlines to meet.
Overall, Poison simply refused to let something small like this bring her down. She was feeling good about this morning, about her relaxed tea and reading. And if she was being honest, and admitted that the girl who had sat across from her helped things along, then so what?
She hummed to herself, a bit of a spring in her step. This would be a good day.
‘Wait up.’
She stopped abruptly, and a bit guiltily, and waited for Orion to catch up. He was pressing a hand to his side under the jacket, and he was scowling.
‘Sorry.’
No answer.
Poison ducked her head, then resolved to wear the unspoken rebuke without any unwarranted shame. It felt immensely uncomfortable to act as if nothing was wrong, but it was a hundred times better than slinking along after an already grumpy Orion. Just because he was in a mood that didn’t mean she couldn’t be happy. She had just resolved to have a good day, and she wouldn’t let his grumpiness drag her down, no matter how self-conscious that made her feel.
The roundabout way almost tripled their walking time, with Orion having to pause every now and then to catch his breath. It annoyed him immensely, she could see that, but he didn’t say a word, and she wasn’t about to comment. He had pestered her for days to let him go out, and she wasn’t about to worsen his mood with an “I told you so”.
They circled the Stove in a widespread arc that seemed to coincidentally spit them out at the mouth of a broad but empty back street.
No blue-caps in sight.
Poison skipped the first tall, sheet metal gate that was used for deliveries, and strolled leisurely along the second one that wasn’t used for much of anything. She trailed her knuckles over the gate, making a series of small knocks. She had memorized a pattern to hit all of the waist-high pressure plates in one go, disabling the first lock. This entrance was invite only.
At the end of the gate, five steps led down to a door. Poison slipped below street level and knocked, in another little pattern.
For a second, silence. Poison grinned at the hidden camera in the upper right corner of the door frame. There were more cameras at the mouth of the alley to make sure nobody was watching.
A bolt shifted and the door swung open. Lilly waved them inside.