Page 22

EON

“ Y ou all right, E?”

I’d met up with Mercy at a tea shop close—but not too close—to Hellfire.

It had once tried to buck its roots and renovate itself, all classy aluminum panels with wood inlays, which had been trendy at the time.

But it couldn’t escape Magenta any more than we could.

Now the walls were covered in graffiti—and not the multicolor, neon type that bougie Tech District places used to simulate the thrill of slumming it—but mostly pictures of dicks and scrawled obscenities.

Pair that with the broken furniture and a fish tank ominously devoid of fish, and it was the same as any other Magenta hovel.

The boba was good though, so Mercy always liked to come here.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just wanted to check in, make sure that you got home all right,” I said.

She grinned at me. “You know me, chica. I can always handle myself. Other than the fact I couldn’t walk straight after. I really owe you one, E. I haven’t had a night like that in a while.”

She kept grinning at me. Normally, we would exchange some crude banter after a job—especially one where we liked the trick.

Not today. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, even as I watched the grin fall off her face.

I had put her in danger, even if I’d done everything to minimize it.

I’d been so obsessed with the thought of getting revenge on him, I’d risked her—and that weighed on me.

“You don’t owe me anything, Mercy. In fact, here’s the rest of your pay.”

True to form, she didn’t hesitate as I handed her an envelope of hardcreds. She opened it and flipped through it. I’d worked with her long enough not to be insulted by it. We were friendly—maybe even friends—but a smart girl always counted her bills.

I’d made sure this wouldn’t affect her, that she was safe. No digital trail, no ties to Taos or her group. She’d asked Maddox to put his Vysor on privacy mode, said she was shy, and he’d fallen for it. No pictures of her. Her only link was me—and I knew how to disappear.

She tucked the envelope into her cropped jacket and gave me a hard look. “Are you sure you’re all right, E? I know you’re the strong, silent type when you aren’t working, but…” She trailed off and bit her lip. I watched her decide it was worth the risk to ask. “Are you using again?”

In truth, the Vector haunted me almost as much as Cy did.

It had been easy—far too easy—to slip back into it.

I’d been dreaming of it almost as much as I dreamed of him.

Even now, I felt the tremors in my face and pinky finger, my body aching for it.

The detox had helped, and I’d resisted. I’d had DITA read me dirty stories and burned through two more vibrators, but I had resisted.

“No. I’ve been clean for six months now.”

It didn’t count. I’d had to do it, for the job. It didn’t count.

Mercy’s face relaxed. “That’s good. I know how hard you worked before. Didn’t want to see you backslide.”

Mercy meant it. She had always had a little too soft of a heart—I’d had to save her from it more than once. I gave her a smile, and she lit up like the sun.

“You know you’re not allowed to hit up Maddox again, right?”

Her smile immediately twisted as she flipped me off, though it still hid underneath.

“Go figure. Finally meet a nice guy and he’s off-limits.” She sighed.

“I don’t think he’s as nice as you think.”

“His dick says otherwise.”

I laughed and it reached my heart.

“Besides, the cards told me we would meet up again,” she said, a twinkle in her eye.

I rolled my eyes at her. “What does your Catholic mom say about you still reading tarot?”

She laughed again. “I think me playing at brujeria is the last thing my mom is worried about. Let me read for you?”

It was inevitable. She wanted to do it every time we met up. I didn’t say no, and she whipped out her deck. She shuffled them dramatically, ever the showwoman.

“For your past…the Star, but inverted.” Her lips pulled into a tight line. “Loss of faith, feeling overwhelmed, and falling into old habits for comfort.”

My pinky twitched, but I said nothing.

“Present…” She flipped over the card, and her lips twitched into a smile. “The Fool. A new beginning—or maybe, somebody new?” She raised an eyebrow at me with a smirk.

I scowled, even as a flash of blue hair swept through my memory. “Let’s hope not.”

She gave me a sullen look, then shrugged her shoulders and pulled the last card. Now I really saw her frown before she put it down.

“Your future…the Devil. Seduction by physical pleasures and bondage.”

“Why the long face? That sounds like a good time.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her, trying to lighten her mood. It didn’t work.

“I don’t know. E…for you—being trapped by anything…just be careful. You don’t have any other jobs lined up, do you?”

I shook my head, and she let out a relieved sigh. Before I could give her shit about believing any of this, the north wall of the shop—which was one giant screen—switched on.

“Well, speaking of the Devil…”

Levi Ameré was giving his grievances on the loss of POM’s CTO. The broadcast switched to footage of Beaufort Renard’s funeral.

Mercy’s eyes darted to the screen as she swept the cards off the table, my reading thankfully over. “So sad, isn’t it? He was so young—and kinda hot! Even the rich and powerful can’t escape death, I guess.”

Yeah, she was still too soft if she felt anything for some trillionaire she didn’t even know.

I watched a series of mourners on the screen, tears in their eyes.

The scroll at the bottom said he had died from a heart attack.

At his age, that had to be drug-related, and something in my stomach pulled.

His wife came up and wept over the coffin.

She was crying perfectly, her beautiful face not diminished in any way by the mascara-soaked tears that streamed down her face.

She reached out to put her hand on his face.

That’s when I saw it.

The image pulled, just a for a millisecond—but it was there. A telltale sign that the footage was doctored.

Most wouldn’t have noticed, but I did. Whoever was in that coffin, it wasn’t Beaufort Renard. Now that was interesting.

Mercy was still chatting as I turned back to her and smiled, taking a long pull of my drink—and almost dying when one of the boba hit me in the back of the throat. I coughed, and she patted my back, scolding me mildly about being careful.

If only I knew how to take that advice.