“Need data. You think you’ve got something?” His smile grew even bigger, if that was possible. He waved for us to follow him.
Rook drew us into one of his VIP booths—low VegLeather benches lined the three walls of the cramped space, with a round table at the center. I flopped back onto the far bench and crossed one foot over the opposite knee, my arms stretched along the back of the couch. Maddox sat down beside me, ramrod straight.
Rook fingered the data pad near the door, and a pair of small tits attached to a decent body digitized from the projector at the center of the small table. “Relax for a moment, and I’ll be right with you gentleman.” He leered before popping out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him. It cut off the sound of the club, and all I could hear was the beat the virtual stripper danced to.
A frown twisted Maddox’s mouth. “Relax, man. Rook knows better than to fuck with us. He doesn’t get paid that way.”
“You used to run with him, right?” Maddox asked.
“Rook? Nah. He wasn’t Chrome Kitsune. He’s just always had his fingers in everyone’s ass, always had dealings withthem.” I let out a huff. “If he was Kitsune, he wouldn’t be welcoming me with open arms like this.”
Maddox nodded. I’d never told him much about my time as a Kitsune, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that when you leave a gang, it’s not just hard feelings and a few shed tears. Normally, at least a few people ended up dead—or in my case, a lot of people.
The door slid open, and Rook flopped down on the bench across from me. “What sort of data are you looking for?”
“Just looking for some answers,” I said. “About Renard.”
His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Interest? Annoyance? Hard to tell.
“Renard, huh? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a bit.” He leaned back, spreading his arms out across the seat. “And why, exactly, would I know anything about him?”
“Cut the shit, Rook. We know he was here—often. What was he doing?”
“I assume what everyone here is doing—getting their dicks wet.”
I ran my fingers through my hair, exasperated, when the song playing changed and a new digital girl materialized in front of us. Now this one had perfect tits. I let myself enjoy them for a moment—then my jaw clenched.
It was her.
Green hair framed that gorgeous, freckled face as she rolled her body. Eon Ibarra, caught in a perfect digital recreation. Well, almost perfect. Even though she moved like a damn dream, her eyes were dead.
Maddox caught my gaze, and when he recognized her, went even stiffer—if that was possible. Rook saw the movement and followed both of our gazes.
“Ah, you like her, do you? Can’t blame you—she was one of a kind, that one.” He shook his head. “Sadly, she’s not one of mygirls anymore. But luckily, I’ve got her on file here forever. So really, she’ll always be mine.” He gave me that toothy grin, and I nearly cracked my teeth as my jaw clenched harder.
My hand flipped to my waist when Maddox shot me a warning look. I grabbed my VaPurr out of my suit jacket instead of my weapon and flared it up, leaning back again. Rook didn’t relent.
“I can load her up onto one of the RoboPussies we have, if you’re into virtual—”
“Not looking to blow a load, Rook. Although with the way you’re jerking me around here, I just might. Do you have anything useful here, or are we done?”
His smile dropped immediately. “You know in this business, confidentiality is everything. If people hear I was giving out client data—”
“Then no one has to hear about it. It’s either you tell us, or all those virtual pussies you have on file suddenly disappear during your next system upgrade. So what’ll it be?”
Rook’s neck was sweating, and he was pissed, but he couldn’t fight me any more than he could fight POM.
“All right—but this doesn’t get out. Yeah, Renard came here. Liked the girls—liked the girls a lot. But he also liked meeting with the Chrome Kitsune leaders, who also enjoyed my girls. You read me?”
“Who? I want names.”
His lips tightened, but Rook was, first and foremost, a coward. This was just a waiting game now.
“Hideki Hinokawa.”
I sat up at that. Hinokawa-san was oyabun—the head of the clan. If he’d been meeting with Renard, this wasn’t some petty street deal.
“You got recordings?”
