Page 30 of Neon Flux

So I found a job where everyone wanted me. Where all I had to do was dance and fuck and the money poured in.

I clenched the edge of the sink again, eyes on the reflection staring back. I’d pulled out my old Elysium University button-up, tied it at my waist and paired it with a tight skirt. My hair was dyed back to its natural deep brown. The only difference from that hopeful student was the brown contacts covering my violet eyes—a Flux mutation too recognizable to leave exposed. I looked in the mirror and saw a girl who was hopeful, polished, with no hard edges. I barely recognized her.

Tonight, she was who I would be.

I was good at changing myself into whoever everyone else needed me to be. People thought being a sex worker was about sex—and sure, it was—but most clients didn’t really see you. They saw a mirror of themselves. They just wanted someone to listen. I’d learned quickly how to mold myself into whatever persona they needed. It came easily. I’d been hiding my true self since I was a kid. I’d probably spent more time talking to clients then fucking them.

Probably.

Tonight I wasn’t me. Tonight I was bait. My trap was set—now I just had to get those kaijin pendejos to walk into it.

Because six months ago, staring death in his face, I realized I wasn’t ready to disappear after all. Because my mother deserved better.

Because I did too.

Mercy metme outside the bar looking hot. Stunning, in fact. Her warm olive skin glowed under the hot pink neon of the bar sign flashing overhead. She was 5’2”—if you were generous—and all curves. Her tightly curled hair was dyed dusty pink at the tips, perfectly matched to her lipstick. She wore a tight pink dress with ridiculous cutouts, walking the razor’s edge of trashy—perfect for what I had in mind.

I filled her in on what she needed to know.

“Girl, what the hell are you wearing?” She eyed my outfit with theatrical distaste, and I chuckled. “You a university girl again?”

“I am tonight.” I winked at her.

A sly smile curled her lips. “Just out here slumming it in Magenta, huh? Can’t say I blame you—we have the most fun. That why you changed your hair too?”

“Yeah, but enough questions, Mercy. We’ve got work to do. You know your guy?”

She swiped at her Vysor, taking one last look at the image I’d sent her, then nodded. She flicked it away and her expression slackened instantly, like she’d already taken a few too many hits that night. She was a pro—I’d learned a lot of tricks from her.

“Let’s get to work, chica.” She held out her palm, and I slipped her half of tonight’s payment in hardcreds. She counted it, then raised an eyebrow at me. “Girlfriend treatment?”

I nodded.

She pressed two fingers to her lips and blew me a kiss. “Only for you, E.”

She spun and walked past the bouncer at the door without even pretending to stop. I followed, trying to get my racing heart to slow the fuck down.

I could feel my Flux spiking and took a deep breath. I couldn’t let it show—couldn’t leave behind anything that might identify me. I counted down from four, again and again, slow breaths, until my heart eased and the static fizz of Flux faded.

“You okay, E?” Mercy had turned around, giving me a concerned look.

“Yeah. Just a bit of nerves. Been a minute since I’ve had a job.”

She took my hand and gave me a soft smile. “I’ll buy you a drink. Come on.”

CHAPTER 9

CY

“What a fucking waste of time,” I groused at Maddox as we sat at a table in the back of The Blackout, a shitty dive. I’d talked with a few of my local contacts who were working the scene, and none of them had heard anything about a new variant.

One small-time dealer had tried to pull one on me, but I’d sniffed him out immediately. Feeling generous tonight, I’d let him out of the bar, missing only a few teeth instead of his life.

Maddox followed me with his judgmental stare as I shook out my hand, wiping the kid’s blood off my glove. “Was that necessary?”

“We have a reputation to uphold.” I pulled a pair of Vector cartridges out of my pocket, holding one out to Maddox. He shook his head.

“We aren’t in uniform. No one knows we’re POM Security. That’s why it’s called a covert mission,” Maddox said.