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“We can go to the furniture store after the trident store.”
“The armory?”
“Exactly.”
“Perhaps.”
“I know a no when I hear one.” Annabelle grabs my arm.
37
Eros
Fucking hell, the alarm on my block won’t shut off. I pull it onto my stomach. My sheets are covered in sweat. I can’t think about anything but Annabelle Portsmouth. I’m like a ten-year-old again, obsessed with a new toy. No, that’s not right. I’m not obsessed. Consumed. I’ve memorized every flit of her hair, every swoop of herklaramafrom the Glyden ball. I need her like a fish needs gills or a dolphin needs air. I’m dizzy as I stand. I’m not looking like the governors’ trained assassin right now, more like a lovesick podlet.
The alarm on my block blares again. My camera in the market has picked up one of the half dozen good citizens of the Veiled City I’m handsomely paid to track. Follow. Dispose of when the governors’ security council wants them secretly gone. I sign into my private link to the cameras, a wicked grin on my face. This is my own add-on. Annabelle. And she’s out in the market. In public.
Looks like I’m going shopping. I focus in on her. The hero of Hestertåtten is the only one with her. So foolish. With Nico being gone, everyone wants her—either gone or for themselves. The fucking Stele has been circling her apartment for days. Like the sharks she has in place. Why their grand dame duchess ever added an animal-loving Braesen to her pod is beyond rationalization. Trained sharks? Nothing could go wrong there.
It’s Vividaria Festival, and the rest of the city is going to be dressed in colors that match their domes. Blue and blue. I hear my mother’s voice as I jump over the color palette of ocean and sapphire, going for my own faithful choice instead, black. Not that most of the elite don’t know who I am. I’m the one they try to keep their daughters away from. The one they move to the other side of the corridor for. No, black works. Vividaria Festival or not.
I’ve got four knives strapped to different parts of my body, a small trident that’s not detectable via scans, and one large one in the holster at my waist because I’ve got to check something in when I enter the market or they’ll definitely pat me down. I’m in mysolo.
It’s Vividaria, fucking Vividaria Festival. Mother is going to expect me to come for dinner. Worse, she’s going to expect me to show up at the national ball at the end of the week. I fucking hate balls.
Unless Annabelle is there. Then it won’t be so bad. But for tonight, I’ll have to come up with an excuse and quickly explain why I’m not going to her apartment for dinner. I’ve got mysoloon autopilot while I scroll through the nightly stream and data analysis of those who are doing questionable things. But I push them all to the back and focus on Annabelle. There’s nothing until an hour ago. Nico and Holter leave, but then Holter comes back almost immediately to the Glyden Dome. I shake my head. I never understood those two. They’re more co-dependent than any brothers I’ve ever known.
The city is lit up, being midday.Solosandomadasare left in a trail behind me. I whiz past the nightlife district where I’ve spent the last week following a certain Vitrom who seems to be running a backroom gambling operation. It’s open and shut. The security council has assured me that my involvement with shutting it down will stay with them. And I made a good killing at the tables. It was a win-win for me at least.
The Gorsca takes a sharp turn, and we click into the airlock closest to where I saw Annabelle and Holter last. A few punches on my block, and I find they’re at an armory shop instead of a provisioner. Her apartment is more than sad, being on the ground floor and achingly empty. My access is spotty, but my clocked drones have gotten hours of video of Annabelle playing with those damn sharks.
The buzz of the fans beads the water on the front of mysolo. An attendant rushes me, and I toss him the keys. “Thanks.” I slip him a coin as well and head in.
This side of the market is vast, the dome rising up three stories. Braesen-trained birds mix with mechanical ones. Bright oranges and greens flash across the arches. I’ve got cameras in several of them. I can’t be the only one. I start past the furniture provisioner but duck my head in, just in case I’ve missed them. They should be here. But of course, they’re not.
The next shop is the foreign grocer. Here you can buy anything from Japanese saki in a can to American cheese. I shudder, remembering the time my sister tricked me into eating something called a grilled cheese sandwich. Chewing each bite took longer than deboning a fish. I’m not going to lie, by the end, it wasn’t so bad. But I’ll never tell her that. I have my pride.
A flash of blonde attracts me. Her hair is done up in rudimentary braids. But I like it. No, on anyone else, I would find it childish for her hair to fall loosely around her neck. Not her. My cock is full-on hard watching her talk to the male behind the counter. I have no idea what she’s purchased, but he’s trying to take it from her. To send it, no doubt.
She turns to Holter, and he bows down to her, whispering in her ear. She lets go of the package, a pleasant smile on her lips. “Thank you,” she says in Dorian to the shopkeeper.
I duck behind a display of Viking hard bread. Gross. Who would ever want to eat it? It’s like cardboard and sawdust had a podlet together. I’ll stick to my normal diet of olives, fish, and red wine.
Back to the display, I follow them, a good clip behind. I’m not trying to hide. But it’s shocking to me that Holter hasn’t spotted me. I would think such a champion would find me hard to miss. But then I’m not walking with the beauty he is.
“Ah, sir. Can I get you something?” The clerk clears his throat.
“Yes, add three pints of ice cream and two pounds of chocolate to Ms. Portsmouth’s order and charge me.” I swipe my block.
“You’re sure? I’ve already sent a dozen pints to her apartment today. I’m running low. And there’s only so much frozen cow milk one can force down.”
“Indeed. Just the chocolate, then.”
He inclines his head, and I hurry after Annabelle. When I leave the store, I notice I’m not the only one following them. Most are full-out trailing. I make eye contact with a Stele male. His glare doesn’t cause me any fear.
Annabelle and Holter have ducked into another armory, but when I catch up to the door, they’re coming out already.
I stand back. The brute from Stele shoots his shot. The fans in this part of the atrium are incredibly loud, and as such, I can only read Annabelle’s lips. I can imagine what the hammerhead is saying to her.Oh, lovely, frail human. You should join my pod. We will keep you safe. Never have ten males wanted something so much.He stops and kisses her hand.
