Val laughed. “Well, she was lucky this time, so keep her out of trouble. Next time federal security drags her in, she may not have two gallant heroes to rescue her.”
“Something tells me there won’t be a repeat.” Justin toyed with his glass and used the opportunity to mull over their story. “How’d you know who she was?”
“Finn—er, Mae—told us everything, and there aren’t that many Panamanian girls wandering Vancouver.” Dag was already eyeing the second bottle. “Then we just tracked you down.”
Justin thought back on recent events. “Mae did too good a job at teaching her to climb trees.”
That made Dag laugh. “She’s good at everything. You should see her in combat.”
Val nodded along with Dag’s words. “I mean, we’re all good, but she’s really good. Even before she had the implant, she was kicking ass. She got a lot of crap for being castal when she joined the guard. I think she beat up three people that first day, and no one ever messed with her again. Well, not in our cohort, of course.”
Justin knew enough about pr?torians to understand the color-coded system. Their pip color was visible in the dim light. “Red cohort?”
“Scarlet,” they said in unison.
“Why do you call her Finn? She already fits into your monosyllabic club.”
They found that hilarious. “Dag couldn’t remember her name back then,” said Val. “But we could all remember she was Nordic. Hard not to. And ‘Finn’ is a cuter nickname than ‘Swede.’”
Silence fell as the pr?torians cracked into their second bottles. Justin still couldn’t get over the weirdness of this situation. Before that miscreant-camp nonsense, even he’d been taken aback when they’d shown up at his door. The faces…the posture…those uniforms. His own heart had nearly stopped. He’d also seen Mae in action enough to appreciate just how lethal pr?torians could be.
Which made it completely ludicrous that he now had two of them before him, trying desperately to get drunk as they made wisecracks and congratulated themselves over a prank played on a teenage girl. The government took nearly 40 percent of his paycheck, and he felt kind of affronted that this was what his taxes paid for.
“And so you guys are guarding the gardens?”
Dag nodded. “Yup. Pretty sweet deal. Easy work and lots of time off.”
“I’m free tomorrow night,” said Val meaningfully.
“I kind of miss the field.” Dag stared wistfully at his bottle. “I’m ready for action.”
Val touched his arm. “Soon enough. Maybe we’ll go together. Maybe Finn too. They can’t stick her with this job forever.” She glanced up at Justin. “No offense.”
That instinct rose up in Justin, the one that said something was about to happen. “Why would I be offended?” He examined her words. “And what do you mean she’s stuck?”
“You don’t know?” Val looked legitimately puzzled. “You’re punishment.”
“That’s harsh. I mean, someone had to be with him, right? It’s not like they just designed this job to teach her a lesson.” Dag turned thoughtful. “But I don’t think she would’ve gotten it if she hadn’t done what she did. She’d be with us in the gardens.”
The big man sounded sad, but there was almost an accusatory note in his voice. Justin didn’t know if it was directed toward him, Mae, or some other mysterious factor. All he knew was that he was being left behind in this conversation, and he needed to catch up. The idea of his being someone’s punishment didn’t make any sense.
Horatio laughed, inasmuch as a raven could. Right. Because how could your company be anything but a delight?
“What did she do? Why is she being taught a lesson?”
Val and Dag exchanged looks. Their happy-go-lucky natures had vanished. “I don’t know if we should tell,” said Dag slowly. “I mean, if she hasn’t told him, maybe she doesn’t want him to know.”
“Well, it’s not exactly a big secret,” Val pointed out, a bit of her swagger returning. “Hell, practically every pr?torian knows the Ballad of Mae and Porfirio.” She laughed at her own word choice, and Dag soon joined in.
But Justin wasn’t amused. He was too caught up in the glimmer of insight he was starting to feel. “Porfirio…that’s him, isn’t it? The beach guy.”
Val turned from Dag. “She did tell you.”
“No…not exactly.” How could he explain all the telltale signs he’d gathered? The way she wouldn’t meet his eyes when any whisper of this came up, the way her whole body went still. “I just kind of guessed something was going on.”
“Oh, believe me, I don’t think you could guess all of this. It’s one of those stranger-than-fiction things.” She looked back at Dag. “Do you want to tell it?”
“You start,” he said. “I’ll correct you when you’re wrong.”
She elbowed him with a force that would’ve knocked an ordinary person out of his chair. “I know the story. I was there when it happened.”