Page 57

CY

“We hear back from any of our contacts? Anyone got an in with the Church?”

Maddox’s brow furrowed. “Only one. Your old buddy Rook.”

Behind me, I felt Eon shudder. Maybe it was something in cyberspace, but I had a feeling it wasn’t.

“He should be here any minute, actually,” Maddox added.

Eon shot up, her Vysor powering down.

“The fuck? Why here?” I asked.

“Sounds like the Kitsune aren’t too happy with our guy. He needs protection, no doubt.”

“Only if he’s got the info.”

“I’m gonna get going.” I looked back and Eon was packing her bag, shoving in her clunky keyboard and jacket.

“What? No way. You still haven’t finished the reconstruction and—” My Vysor pinged, and the receptionist’s face popped up.

“Your guest has arrived,” she said, her voice strained.

“Shit. No—you, sit back down.” I grabbed Eon’s arm and steered her back to the couch. “Keep working. Maddox, make sure she’s working.”

I walked down to the lobby, and Rook couldn’t have looked more out of place.

The sparkling white polysteel room looked tainted by his dirty, beat-up duster and his carbon-stained combat boots.

He kept running his hands through his platinum slicked-back hair.

The guy looked more like a tweaker than someone who should’ve been anywhere near POM Enterprises.

The receptionist was clearly trying to stay as far away from him as possible and looked visibly relieved when I stepped through the sliding glass doors.

Rook ran to me immediately. “Thank fucking god, compa. You have to help me. These Kitsune, they’re crazy, man—saying I ‘dishonored’ them or some shit. Haven’t fucking slept in three days, I’m—”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Jesus, wait until we get inside at least.” I grabbed the back of his coat and shoved him through the doors.

“Sir,” the receptionist piped up, “I’ll need to hold on to your Vysor. It’s against corporate policy to allow visitors to wear them inside.”

Rook ripped it off and tossed it to her without a second glance. She squeaked, barely catching it, and the door shut behind us.

I dragged him to the conference room. Maddox was still in the same spot, and Eon was sprawled on the couch again—but now wearing her sweater, the hood pulled tight around her face. Her Vysor flashed, so I knew she was working. Good.

I pushed Rook down into a chair, and it spun from the force. “Talk, yarou. I don’t have time to waste.”

He wrung his hands. “Data, yeah, I’ve got data. You want an in with the Church, right? I heard all the big wigs are having some secret meeting tomorrow. Echelon members only. Very hush-hush. One of their pervert priests was mouthing off about it.”

“And this helps me how? I go to enough meetings as it is.”

He was sweating, clear droplets pooling at his temples. “Your guy, Renard. He was one of the high-ups, right? Maybe this meeting’ll reveal something.”

He was grasping at straws, useless. I let out a long sigh, and his eyes bulged.

“I can get more—the priest’s name, his data tag. Whatever you want, just put me somewhere safe, man.” I didn’t say a word, just let him sweat through his shirt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eon swipe something over to Maddox, trying to move as little as possible. It popped up on his Vysor, and he grinned. “Good work, Eon.”

“Eon?” At that, Rook spun in his chair. “That you, baby girl?” He stood and started toward her, his whole demeanor shifting. She scrambled to sit upright before he reached her.

He let out a long, low whistle. “Damn, you really leveled up, huh? Playing the corporate whore now.”

Maddox straightened. “Actually, Eon is a POM contractor, and I expect you to—”

But Rook wasn’t listening. He leaned over her like a vulture closing in on a carcass. “You look good. Riding that corpo dick must be doing wonders.”

I waited. Waited for her to retort, to tear him apart. Waited for her to charge up and fry him from the inside out. Hell, just fucking fight back—like she always did with me. But there was nothing. She just folded in on herself, like nothing I’d ever seen from her.

I reached out and felt her Flux tremble— fucking tremble. We’d been in The Den, facing death, and I’d never felt her afraid like this.

She was scared. Of this Fluxless fuck?

I thought of that virtual at the club, the way he’d grinned when he said she’d always be his. I thought of her mugshot—wrecked, high on Vector, still working at his club.

Maddox stood up and whisked her out of the room without another word. Rook watched her go, grinning like he’d just won something.

“Shit, I always thought you were a sellout when you went corporate. But with kickbacks like that?” Another whistle. “I can see the appeal.”

Rook was a piece of shit, but he’d been a good informant. Useful to me. Useful to POM. He was desperate now, but his info had served me well for years.

“Hey Rook.” He turned, eyes going wide as he found himself face to face with my pistol.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He threw his hands up. “I’ll get you that priest, man. I’ll get you more info, I swear! Just put the gun down!”

I cocked the hammer, immensely satisfied at how the color drained from his face.

“Shut the fuck up.”

A loud pop —and then Rook’s brains were all over the polysteel walls. Red splattered everywhere.

I lowered my hand and just stood there for a moment, basking in it.

The door behind me slid open.

“What the fuck, Cy?” It was just Maddox.

“Guy didn’t have any useful info.”

“So you shot him?”

“He was pissing me off. Accidents happen.”

To my surprise, Maddox just grunted. “I’ll call janitorial.”