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PROLOGUE
“I told you I’m done.” My voice echoes off the cement walls until the only sound is a faint water drip.
“You do this one final assignment or they kill you. There aren’t any other options.”
“B.”
“What?”
“Option B,” I repeat.
“They’ll go after your family, your friends…” Annoyance and desperation raise the pitch of her voice and her cold, composed countenance waivers.
“There’s no one to go after.”
“Don’t do this. It’s just one more assignment.”
“It’ll always be just one more. I told you I’m done.”
“This assignment is different,” she explains firmly, urging me to reconsider.
“What happens to you if I don’t take it?” The way her eyes drop to the ground is answer enough. I don’t consider my handler a friend exactly, but after three years together, I like her enough not to get her killed like this.
“Damn it,” I sigh. “How many?”
“No casualties,” she replies eagerly, confidently. She lights up, believing she’s convinced me.
“Then what is it?”
“Recruiting.”
I start to laugh until I realize she’s serious. “I’m not exactly the kind of…” I begin, confused.
“Yeah, I know this is… not typical.” She chooses her words carefully.
“Not typical? It’s a terrible idea.”
“This mark is different. He hasn’t been tempted by anyone we’ve sent.”
“Maybe he prefers men,” I suggest, but she ignores my comment.
“One girl made a little progress, but she had to resign.”
“Resign? Is that what we call it now? Did she resign to the bottom of the river?”
“The mark,” she continues, undeterred. “He is… His tastes are a bit… unconventional.” She doesn’t deny the other girl is likely dead. Discarded. No longer useful.
“Bit bold to assume my tastes are unconventional.” Bold but accurate. Between her ability to read people and the unlimited data the Resistance has access to, I can’t hide anything from her. She gives me a knowing look.
“They’re not giving up on this guy and I need to assign the next person.” She seems sorry, or at least sorry for herself. We’re both painfully aware that my skillset is more suited for a different kind of assignment. Shorter, quicker assignments with less personal interaction.
“So I refuse, they kill me. I fail, they kill me. I succeed…”
“I help get you out.”
“Fine.”
“You’ll do it?”
“I’ll try,” I tell her.
CHAPTER 1
“Don’t let him bring you a drink. Don’t give him contact information. Don’t meet him afterwards. He’ll find you. He likes what he can’t have. He needs a challenge.”
Instead of being briefed on entry and exit points or security systems, I’m forced to sit through a lesson on playing hard to get. Luckily, ignoring rich old men is not difficult for me.
“He’s requested that the security team wears gala attire. It’s less… ominous.”
“For fucks sake,” I mumble at the longsleeved, floor length, beaded gown. “I’m not going to be able to move in that.”
“Well it’s the only dress with a kevlar bodice I have so you’ll have to make it work. He has to notice you. He’ll be swarmed by women all night.”
And she was right. Hours into the gala, I had yet to see him without at least a woman on each elbow. I tug on the sleeve of my dress, trying to reach the itch on my arm to no avail. The bodice is tight on my ribs and chest, making deep breaths an effort.
I watch him cross the room towards me, towards the bar. The bartender hands him a drink for each hand. I smile to myself, amused at how many women are about to be disappointed when he gives that second drink to someone. When he turns my direction, I avert my eyes, resuming my duty as a hired security guard.
“Thirsty?” He asks, his voice so smooth with a melodic masculinity. He smells faintly of cigars. She had said he’d talk to me eventually, but I’m still surprised.
“No thank you,” I tell him politely, keeping most of my attention on the room. I did notice he’s not as old as I expected though.
“It’s water. You’re obviously working.”
“Obviously?” I ask, prompting conversation, but not accepting the water yet.
“You’re alone observing, not participating. And while that dress is stunning, you look extremely uncomfortable in it.”
“I was told my usual uniform is ominous.” I take the water with a slight nod of thanks, “Cheers.”
As I raise my glass, the sleeve of my dress hikes up. His attention is immediately drawn to the scars on my wrist. I meet his eyes shadowy and swirling with thought over the edge of my glass. I don’t drop my eyes in shame. I don’t make excuses. I hold his gaze unapologetically, knowing he saw, knowing the darkness in him can’t resist the darkness in me.
He’s dangerous. I can feel it all over the instinct to flee or fight… or freeze in fear. I hope he doesn’t notice. The tension is tangible as we wait for the other to speak.
It won’t be me.
“Are you staying in the area?” he asks.
“I live in the City.”
“In the City?” He doesn’t hide his surprise. I nod. As I scan the room, I realize people are watching us. There’s nothing rich, nosey people do better than gossip. “You seem like someone who can take care of herself but…”
“Yeah, I can,” I cut him off. I’ve lived in the City my whole life. Granted, it seems to be constantly getting worse the crime, the gangs, the violence but I definitely can take care of myself. Most people are just eagerly heading to their favorite bar or brothel. The rest are on their way home to some tiny apartment in a dirty skyrise.
“I’ll let you get back to work.” He sounds annoyed. Had I ruined this already? I did exactly what she told me to do. I’m fucked.
I couldn’t even manage step one of this impossible assignment. I stare forlornly into the crowd, feeling completely set up for failure.
These people are all going to enjoy their party then return to their gated communities with roundtheclock patrol and home security systems that could thwart an army. Their bots will probably make them a midnight snack and turn down their bedsheets for them. They’ll sleep soundly no sirens, no honking, no gunshots outside their windows in the suburbs.
The rest of the party passes in a blur. I should be observing, trying to learn anything useful. I doubt any amount of information will save me from this failure of an evening though.
As soon as I can, I slip away to the bathroom and get out of that dress. I stuff it into my backpack, not caring about wrinkling it. I’m far more comfortable in my normal clothes: loose jeans, boots, a worn black hoodie, and a slouchy cap. I put valuables in my pants pockets they can have the dumb dress and my bag and duck out of the bathroom, head already down so as not to attract attention.
“Hey.” I pause at the familiar voice.
“Are you following me?” I ask him. Maybe I hadn’t failed. Maybe he’s still interested.
“Let me give you a ride home,” he offers, but I chuckle.
“I’d be jumped two seconds after getting out of a town car.”
“Well I wouldn’t want that…” He’s thinking, studying me.
“Goodnight,” I tell him and leave before he can say more.
The night is crisp, so I walk quickly to the bus stop. The other bus passengers ignore me and the subsequent subway ride is just as solitary. Walking up the stairs from the subway into the City is stepping into a completely different world from the suburbs. Bright signs flash on every building, lighting 2am up like a sunny afternoon. Projections of scantilyclad women dance on the sidewalk. Advertisements blast from every establishment, encouraging you to enter.
Sales, discounts, specials.
I keep my eyes on the sidewalk and weave in and out of people, many who are stumbling drunk. I duck into an alley and up a fire escape to a window, notifying the person inside with a gentle taptap.
“Damn it, Sosie, use the front door. You scared the shit out of me.”
“It’s safer this way.” I see fear fill his round face when I say this.
“I heard they took you in. Are you in trouble?” He runs his hand through greasy hair.
“I’m… cooperating.”
“Were you followed?” I shake my head. “What do you need?”
“Background check. Alden Riege.”
“Alden Riege,” he repeats ominously. “Why, Sos?” Concern coats his voice.
“That’s my mark.”
“You can’t kill Alden Riege.”
“Recruit, not kill. And quit saying his name like a supervillain. I met him tonight. He’s not… not what I expected.”
“Fuck… and if you… don’t?” I shake my head. “Right. Got it. You look tired. Get some sleep. I’ll get started.” He’s businesslike, ready.
“Thank you. Seriously.” I realize how tired I am and crash on his couch, but my sleep is not restful. Every time I close my eyes I see them…
“Wake up, Sosie. Hey you’re safe. It’s just a dream.”
I bolt up, narrowly missing Nick. He stares at me, unsure what to say. He knows I don’t want to talk about it and frankly, he doesn’t want to hear about it.
“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” I ask, embarrassed and guilty.
“I’ve been up. Grab some breakfast. I’ll tell you what I found.” I settle back onto the couch with a bowl of cereal. “Mr. Riege owns half the city bars, brothels, laundromats, apartments. He uses aliases and shell companies, some sketchy stuff but no police record… squeaky clean.”
“Because other people do his dirty work.”
“Well I’ve got facts and I’ve got rumors.”
“Rumors, please.”
“He’s a regular at one of the brothels he doesn’t own. One with bots instead of real girls where people can…”
“I get it. Things you can’t do to real girls.”
“Right. His friends, partners, people around him rotate out quickly. He’s an extremely private person, but he belongs to a group of other wealthy business people that’s rumored to be antiParty.”
“All on the same side then.”
“Don’t lump me into that. I’m on the stayalive side. The Party and I get along just fine.”
“Lucky you,” I mutter. “Thanks for your help. Got a date with my handler.”
“Don’t get either of us killed, okay?”
“That’s the plan.” He smiles, still clearly concerned, but trusting me. I leave down the fire escape just in case, but there’s no one out this early on a Sunday.
The park I sit down in is deserted. The paint on the jungle gym is cracked and peeling. Only one swing is still hanging, but only by one chain that creaks when the wind blows. I shiver as leaves tumble across the basketball court with tattered nets.
When someone sits next to me, I continue looking at my phone. “Kind of surprised you’re personally working this one,” I tell her.
“I have a lot riding on this,” she replies as she pulls out a book to pretend to read. I choke back a laugh. *Yes, we both have a lot riding on this, literally everything is riding on this.*
“I hope you’re taking this seriously.” She is all business, which is typical for her. Efficient and simple in how she speaks and how she dresses, she’s hidden in plain sight. Describing her would be describing any brunette. The first and only time I’ve ever seen her show any emotion was when she convinced me to take on this assignment. I often wonder if that was an act.
“Lifeordeath seriously,” I assure her.
“How’d it go?”
“Fine. He made first contact and offered me a ride home afterwards.”
“How’d he take the rejection?”
“Like a spoiled boy used to getting whatever he wants.”
“I thought so. This is why men shouldn’t be in charge of recruitment. They’ve been sending beautiful vapid sluts. Mr. Riege can have his choice of those, but you…”
“Flattered, I think.”
“You are a challenge. You’ll have to let him have you eventually though.” *Have me how eloquent.*
“I know.”
“And that won’t be a problem.”
“No,” I confirm.
“Then you’ll earn me a promotion and I’ll get you out.” The words take a moment to register.
Of course. Big risk, big reward. If she proves she’s better at this manipulation warfare, they’ll promote her, which is how she’ll have the power to get me out. If she fails, well… they’re not going to have a use for either of us.
“That or they’ll can us both,” I remind her.
“Yes,” she says vacantly. “That or they’ll can us both.”
ero
