He was good. Moving normally, she could sense him. When he moved in his enhanced, whatever-the-hell-it-was state, she might as well be blind.
She turned toward him, tipped her head back and was momentarily in the past, staring up from whatever hopeless situation she’d landed herself in, an impertinent Batman quip on the tip of her tongue, hoping to see him, praying to see him, towering over her, finally there to get her out of her worst jam yet. They’d fight side by side, blast their way home.
“A Dublin Daily,” she said without inflection.
“Written by.”
“Me, of course. Diversify the pool of the hunted and all. More targets. Less risk. My exoneration.”
“You admit it.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because you pissed me off and you know what happens to those who piss me off.”
“As I said before, I’m all you have left of her—the one you prefer. So fuck you,” she delivered in a cool monotone.
He smiled faintly. She had to bite her tongue to keep her features from rearranging into a frown. He wasn’t supposed to smile. Why was he smiling? His smiles had always made her uneasy.
“You betrayed those who are mine,” he said softly.
She stood slowly, drawing up to her full height of five feet ten inches, faced him and folded her arms. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do. Get to the point. Black holes.”
“Nice sword, Dani. Mac know you have it.”
“Jada. She’s about to. I hide nothing. I do nothing I need to hide unless I’m concealing or misrepresenting facts to get something I want. Oh, wait, am I you or me?”
He leaned closer until they stood nearly touching but not. “Battle ready, are you, Dani,” he murmured. “Feels good, doesn’t it. To fight with someone who can take it. Someone who can’t be broken. Remember that when you choose your allies in this city. I can’t be broken.”
“Nor can I.”
“You learned how to bend in the right places. The supple don’t break.”
“Holy astonishing accolades,” she mocked, “a compliment.”
“Put some fire behind your actions and I might like you again.”
“Again.” She hadn’t meant to softly echo the word, but around him, more than anyone else, her mouth tended to function independent of her self-imposed rules. She suspected it was because she’d talked to him incessantly, those early years in the Silvers. Answered herself back as him. Measured her decisions by whether the great Ryodan would have deemed them useful, wise.
Silver eyes met hers and locked. “I didn’t like Dani.”
“At least you’re consistent,” she said coolly.
His silver eyes were ice. “I loved her.”
She failed to control it. Every muscle in her body locked. She refused to do what her body was screaming to do, break the lock with motion, turn away, distract her hands with something, evade his much too sharp gaze, which even now was searching her, trying to translate her body language. He’d always seen too much. She willed herself to relax, went fluid. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
“Refusal to permit emotion is a noose with a very short rope.”
“Emotion is a noose with a very short rope.”
“I agree to disagree. For the moment. Dancer is here. I expect you to—”
“My cooperation has nothing to do with what you expect. Nothing I do has anything to do with what you expect.” For years she’d lived precisely that way. “Merely that I will do whatever it takes to save my world.”
“Our world.” He turned toward the door at the sound of footsteps approaching.
“Is the only thing we’ll ever share.”
“Careful, Dani. Crow is something you used to like to do. Not eat.”
The footsteps sounded wrong to her. People were running, shouting.
Jada darted sideways into the slipstream and blew past him.
If her elbow was slightly out and nailed him in the ribs, it was a matter of haste, nothing more.
10
“You think you own me, you should have known me…”
On a tiny world of teleporting trees, Jada encountered a furry creature that could best be described as a cross between a feral lynx and a chubby koala bear, with a feline face, a shaggy silver-smoke pelt, and a fat white belly. Its paws were enormous, with thick, sharp black claws. Its ears were tall and perky and great silver tufts curled out of them.
It was surprisingly agile despite its pudginess, capable of shimmying up trees on the rare occasions they remained stationary long enough, and loping great distances at astonishing speed.
It had morosely informed her it was the last remaining survivor of its race.