Page 13 of Love, Nemesis (Ocean to Ashes #2)

“Well, the normal people who aren’t martyrs have to get by from doing the little things right; earn our place in the State.”

“Ha,” Ana huffed.

“Just to be clear. I’m not talking about the actual State. I’m talking about the version in your head where people go barefoot in the winter because they don’t want to forget what poverty feels like.”

“Why do you think I like these boots?” she replied.

“Ha,” Jasper mocked.

“Ha,” she mimicked him.

“You know,” Jasper added after a while. “I make mistakes. Plenty of them.”

“Sure. Sometimes I bet you’re late to class.”

Jasper didn’t reply, and after a while, she looked back at him to see a stern expression on his face. He was looking down at his horse.

“You aren’t kidding, are you?” Ana said. “What did you do?”

Jasper jolted as if just realizing she was looking at him. “Nothing, I’m just thinking.”

“Yeah,” she prodded. “About a mistake. A big one, by the looks of it.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Like I said. We all make them, okay? Everyone has secrets. Don’t you?”

She faced forward again when he turned the attention of the conversation back to her.

“Yep,” she replied and said no more. She thought both of them were glad not to discuss secrets any further. Inwardly, she was still scratching her head.

What secrets could Jasper possibly have? If so, they were recent.

Ana caught the first waft of fish in the air as the wind rolled toward them over the Richter docks.

Jasper hopped off his horse as they entered town, both of them quieting as the buildings huddled in around them.

They tied their horses up at the town bullpen before walking inside.

A small fire burned in a fireplace in the corner, keeping the brisk air at bay.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Number fatigues,” a man said from the bar, cleaning out a glass with a washrag and squinting through the haze of dim lighting. “Well, well.” He grinned.

Ana smiled back. “Enjoying retirement, Riddle?” she said, scanning the enclosure. She saw several bookcases in the corner and tables with a few guests.

He shrugged. “Things have been all right. Speaking of retirement—”

“I know,” she said.

“We’re looking for someone, a woman named Evira Beaumont,” Jasper interjected, leaning over the bar.

Ana rolled her back against it, watching the windows as Jasper carried on the conversation. Her eyes caught sight of an hourglass at the end of the bar.

Riddle returned to cleaning his glasses.

“The two of you seem to be in bad company, but with very good timing. Evira Beaumont is the ringmaster of a circus that tours the Mystic and State border. It’s a well-known cover for a black market.

It rolled into town this week for our summer festival going on in the valley just shy of the blacksmith’s at the edge of town. ”

“Well-known black market?” Ana asked, and leaned down in front of the hourglass. She’d never seen such bright pink sand.

“Why haven’t we shut it down?” Jasper added.

“Because she sells a very difficult good to price, track, or tax.”

“What does she sell?” Jasper asked.

Ana rested her chin on her hands, staring at the sand. She allowed her eyes to drift over the polished metal of the hourglass, the lines of the fingerprints printed against it like a symbol of a kindred spirit who had also found it interesting. She flipped it over, counting the seconds.

“Secrets,” Riddle replied, “She’s gotten a pretty penny for them.

You’ll find the circus in the valley just outside of town.

It’s the last day before they move to the next town.

I suggest you wait it out at the festival and recuperate before meeting Evira.

There is plenty to do. Grab something to eat.

Recharge. You’ll want to be on your toes. ”

Ana’s eyes darted over toward the window as shadows moved past it. Two kids tried to peek inside. Her eyes moved back to the hourglass, and she observed the thin stream of sand accumulating into a mound at the bottom.

“Thanks, Riddle,” Jasper continued. “Now a second question. It’s a shot in the dark, but thought we’d try it.”

“All right.”

“We’re looking for someone that’s come through here within the past week. This person has a Number’s tattoo on the outside of the right trigger finger.”

“Man or woman? Eye color? Hair color?” Riddle prodded.

“Black eyes, black hair.” Jasper replied.

“Man or woman?”

“Woman,” Ana said.

“Man,” Jasper said.

They both looked at one another.

Riddle glanced between them. “Are the two of you looking for the same person?”

“Could be mistaken for either,” Jasper said as if muttering a confession. “Trigger finger is the key thing. Average height. The person blends in, other than a big black case. Do you remember seeing anything? Horse probably had a lot of bags.”

“Sorry. Not that I can think of.”

Ana leaned back, closing more of the space between herself and Jasper.

They exchanged glances.

“Ares knows to stay out of the bullpens. Worth a try,” Jasper whispered. “Riddle, you mentioned we should stay on our toes with Evira. What do you mean by that?”

Riddle lowered his voice. “Word is that she’s from En Sanctus, used to serve the Strike.”

“Great. Maybe we can politely ask Evira to leave.” Jasper backed away from the bar. “Thanks for your help,” he added, tapping the wood of the bar as his signature let’s go, go, go gesture. He moved to the door, doing it again, faster.

“He’s still as annoying as ever,” Riddle whispered, “as nervous as a cat in a hailstorm.”

Ana chuckled and headed for the door. Jasper stood waiting outside near his horse, fingers tapping over his crossed arms as he scanned the streets.

She pulled an airy lilac dress out of her pack. “I’m changing.”

“Where did that come from?” He frowned. “I don’t have a non-State change of clothes.”

“Wedding. You aren’t half-retired.”

“Where? Whose? You went alone?”

“Satellite. The Hauluds. Yes,” she said before walking back into the bullpen. She changed in a spare room, and then she and Jasper left the bullpen and made their way toward the festival.