Two Can Play (Entangled Ignite) (13 page)

…

Sunlight from a new angle woke Rena early, making her head throb and her eyes burn. Her mouth tasted musty and metallic and she felt shaky, like the worst of her old-days hangovers.

She squinted at her clock. Seven-thirty. Late! She had no time to feel bad. She had to hit the health center for a blood test before she took over the Dome from Lionel Dray. She hoped she’d gotten enough volunteers for her battle practice.

She put her feet to the floor and sat up slowly. Her stomach lunged upward, so she bounded to her new toilet in her new Quarters. What a way to christen the place. Afterward, rinsing her mouth at her brand-new sink, she noticed a damp cloth and remembered Gage wiping her face.
Nah. I’m sticking
, he’d said. That made her feel odd.
Exposed
.
Needy.

And
warm
.

She pushed that guilty pleasure down deep where it belonged, then made it to her fridge for some E, which she drank while sitting on the floor, back to the cool plastic. Once the E had done its magic, she made her way to her computer, intending to see what responses she’d gotten to her invitation to practice.

She sank into her chair, then stopped, surprised by a strong whiff of Gage’s cologne. Her mouse wasn’t at the angle she kept it to avoid tendinitis, either. She sniffed the device. Gage had definitely held it recently. Last night? But she’d shut down her system before they left for Body Artist. He couldn’t have gotten in without the pass code. Maybe he’d tried, wanting to add points to his file, but gave up once the sign-in lock appeared.

Tension rising, her stomach clenched, she logged in to check the browser history. When she saw that someone had been on her system at eleven last night, her heart sank.

How had he gotten her code? With a jolt, she remembered him pulling her onto his lap after sex that first day, pretending to want to be close. Instead, he must have tracked her keystrokes or—her gaze shot to the corkboard. She’d been warned to keep her code hidden, but it was a hassle and she trusted Lifers. She’d been a fool to trust Gage. Her face burned with shame.

Why had he done it? What had he been after? She clicked into his data file. No new points. Ice poured through her veins. The very moment she’d begun to have a shadow of the beginnings of trust in him, he’d failed her.
When will you learn? Trust no one but Family.

She would confront him when he came in for his shift, get his story before she went to Maya about it. Maybe he had an answer that made sense.
Why do you care? He’s not a true Lifer. Let him go.

But he was her trainee. She’d promised Maya she’d give him a chance and they needed every Recruit they could get these days.

Pushing that problem to the back of her mind, she checked e-mail. Lots of girl Lifers had volunteered for the new battles, along with Baker and a few of his friends. The only Watchers were Zeke and Bull, who were both on duty. She’d have to talk to their shift manager—Milo—about letting them off. If the first practice didn’t fly, she’d never get the stronger fighters involved.

Showered and dressed, she headed to the NiGo Health Center, tucked into a strip mall. Yolanda, the lab tech and receptionist, seemed annoyed to have to put down her
People
magazine to take Rena’s blood. The stick hurt like hell, but soon Rena was back at the Lounge, bounding up the stairs to the Dome booth, ready to start her adventure. Lionel hadn’t responded to her e-mail request for a walk-through, but he was on duty at the board.

When she got close she noticed he was playing a video game and smelled of pot. “Hey, there,” she said. “Ready to show me the job?”

He shot her a red-eyed glance. “Let me finish this level.”

That was rude, but they had time, she guessed, though she needed to track down Milo before the practice.

Lionel finished the level, but he’d earned an extra life and kept playing.

Anger spiked. “I’ve got a practice coming up.”

He shut down the game and turned to her. “Yeah? Well, I don’t give a shit about your practice. I don’t care who you are, this reeks.”

“What does that mean?” She was shocked at his hostility. She’d assumed he’d asked for a transfer, leaving an opening to be filled.

“Come on. You pulled strings for this job.”

“Strings? No. Nigel gave me this assignment.” She felt as though she’d been punched in the gut. “Didn’t you ask to transfer?”

“Hell, no. I got pushed over to shift manager—a dog job with shitty hours.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Right. You would never climb over the backs of your fellow Lifers to get what you want.” His words were acid tossed in her face.

“No. I wouldn’t.”

“Whatever. I get it. You’re golden.”

“What does that mean?”

He looked disgusted. Did he think because Maya was her friend she got extra favors? The idea turned her already upset stomach upside down.

Lionel glared, then blew out a breath. “Let’s get this over with.” He pushed back and stood so fast his chair shot behind him with a squeal. He walked her through the controls, waving at things, mumbling half-coherent directions about the deck, the sound system, how to manage the projection, the mist, the green screen.

She took in as much as she could while he flipped switches, issued warnings, and jabbered instructions, until she’d had enough and stepped in front of him. “I did not go after your job, I swear. The assignment came out of the blue.”

He seemed to assess her sincerity, then shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. The result’s the same. I’m out and you’re in.”

“You’re the expert here. I need your help to do this right.”

“Whatever,” he sighed, as if giving in, accepting her sincerity. “So what didn’t you understand?” For all his flaws—the chief one being laziness—he cared about the Dome.

She asked questions and he ran through the procedures again, calmer now, as if resigned to misery. She felt bad for him. If there was a way to ease the sting… “I think it would help if you shadowed me the first few shifts. Would you be willing to do that?”

“Not my call. Depends on what schedule Bondurant gives me.”

“You saw my post about the demo battles, right? You’ve seen a million fights. I hoped you’d have ideas we could use.”

He looked down at the Dome, then around the booth, finally settling on her face. “I might. Yeah.” He seemed suspicious, but hopeful.

“Maybe you could stay in the Dome part time to help with that.”

Lionel snorted. “Not as long as Bondurant’s GM. He hates my guts.”

“He wants what’s good for the Life. I’ll talk to him about it.”

He looked her over again, as if not certain how to take her. “You’d have better luck than me, for sure.” He obviously cared more than he was letting on.

“We’ll make it work.” She hated that her promotion hurt him, even if he’d been coasting as a commander. She intended to make her own way, no breaks, no slack. Did other Lifers think she was golden? How horrible. She had to talk to Maya about this.

Twenty minutes later, she was running through procedures before her first practice when someone called her name from the doorway. It was Gage, looking cool and relaxed, smiling at the sight of her. The man who’d violated her trust, who’d sneaked into her computer, looked like he was happy to see her, not a care in the world.

When he caught her expression, he froze. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell me why you hacked into my system. You found my pass code and logged in as me. And don’t say you were entering points because I checked.”

He swallowed hard, looking, of all things, embarrassed. “Okay. You got me. I was…curious.”

“About what?”
Make it good
. She was surprised she wanted that.

“The guys you’ve been with, okay?” He seemed pissed to have to admit it.

“What?”

“You heard me. I was checking out the competition.”

Caught off guard, Rena opened and closed her mouth a couple of times. He was tracking her sex partners? “You could have asked me,” she said, fighting a rush of heat. “It’s rude to use someone’s system—especially someone above your level. If we had rules, that would be one of them, but it’s simple respect.” She tried to act stern, when she felt…
funny
. She wanted to…
grin
.

“Okay. Yeah. I got bored waiting to be sure you were going to sleep all right, so…” The grip of his gaze seemed physical and she went tight and loose at the same time. “I might be a Lifer, but I’m still a guy.” He was closer now. She watched his chest swell and relax. Her own breathing slowed to match his. Energy pulsed between them, like the yellow glow that surged and subsided when two warriors merged for a unity battle in
EverLife
.

She backed away. “Then control yourself,” she said firmly.

“You could help. Stop wearing skirts.” He ran his gaze down her body.

“I’m not wearing a skirt.” She was too flustered to think clearly.

“You were last night and it was brutal. Stay away from leather, too. And black. And anything tight or low-cut.”

The pulsing energy now hissed and crackled like a downed power line. She wanted him. She really, really wanted him. “Just…handle it,” she choked out, feeling foolish and knowing he could tell.

“I’ll do my best.” He gave her a half-assed Lifer salute and a wicked grin.

“So, anyway.” She straightened, sorted herself out, then walked to the deck, not sure what to say. Should she yell more? Let it go? What?

“So, your practice starts in, what, forty-five?” He checked his watch. “I said I’d scrub pots at Soylent Green, but I’ll get back here as soon as I can. You going to have a decent turnout?”

“I’m not sure. Mostly girls. I’m going to try to get Zeke and Bull released, but I don’t know.”

“Count on me. I’ll get here as soon as I can.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but what, she had no idea. Anyway, he was gone. What had just happened? She’d caught him in her system and instead of reaming him out, she’d blushed? God.

She wanted him out of her life and she wanted to screw his brains out. How the hell was she supposed to mentor a guy like that?

Chapter Nine

That was close.

Gage headed to the Lounge café, Soylent Green, hoping to hell Rena had bought his story. He
had
checked out her sex chart. That much was true. He’d scanned it as he clicked through her personal screens. Had to be a hard-wired primate instinct to check out rivals. He’d counted a half dozen guys. She’d been selective, it seemed, and the names he recognized seemed to be decent people.

The computer search last night had been worth raising Rena’s suspicions about him, since he’d found L.E. Pearl in the directory for the Seattle Lounge.
Seattle
. That’s where he had to go. The next temp van wasn’t headed there for nearly two weeks—too long with Beth’s birthday in five days—but he had a plan. He’d offered his bike to Rena for her Seattle trip because she seemed to like driving it, but now, if he could convince her to ride up with him instead of dragging ass in a van full of managers, he’d be set. How could she resist the Commando?

He could call the Seattle Lounge and ask for L.E., but he’d decided showing up as a Lifer would be less likely to scare her off. If Rena wasn’t into the road trip, he’d have to cut out, risk his status, and head up on his own. Time was his enemy here, so he’d have to cut some corners.

Easing into the restaurant kitchen, Gage pulled on a white apron, nodded to the head cook, and started on the stack of pots. The room was dense with the smell of oil, dish soap, and chlorine and he was soon elbow-deep in a sesame-oil soaked wok, sweat stinging his eyes. It didn’t help that he’d had no sleep the previous night.

After he’d left Rena’s place, he’d hung in the arena. At closing, he’d pretended to be working on a busted card reader. Once the Watchers chased out the die-hard gamers, he’d strolled out of the place, cool as ice, with a dozen cans of E in his backpack for Cassie. Truth be told, security wasn’t that tight. Lifers loved the rules—make that
guidelines
—so they didn’t expect anyone to cheat.

On his way to the Lounge that morning, he’d stopped at the shelter. It had been ten, but Cassie had seemed barely awake when she’d dragged herself to the front desk to meet him. She hadn’t said a word, only cracked one of the cans he’d brought and sucked it down, closing her eyes after, waiting for the juice to hit. When she’d opened them, they’d looked empty of hope. “No good,” she’d moaned. “Maybe nothing works anymore.”

“Let me take you to the hospital, Cassie.”

She’d shaken her head. “No way. Thanks for these.” She’d hefted the bag.

“I’ll keep working on that reporter.” He’d gotten a terse reply to his e-mail to the guy:
I cannot discuss the story due to pending legal action
, but Gage hadn’t wanted to bum out Cassie by mentioning the likely dead end there.

Was the reporter blowing smoke? Why would the Blackstones sue over the piece? Despite what Rena had said about the article, he’d read it and the piece hadn’t qualified as libel. Gage’s experiences in the Lounge validated most of the reporter’s claims. Exaggeration wasn’t libel in any court in the land. If they were pursuing legal action, the Blackstones must have more to hide. What they feared was deeper coverage. When he had a chance, Gage would do a more thorough search of news clips about NiGo and the Blackstones.

When he’d finished with the last of the lentil-crusted pans, Gage nodded a farewell to the café manager and headed for the Dome.

When he got there, a handful of Lifers were working with Rena, most of them girls. A bunch of Watchers stood nearby, arms folded, bodies half-turned, pretending they couldn’t care less, but not missing a twitch of the practice going on.
Macho bullshit.

A girl fighter had to be lightning-quick and real smart, employing techniques that let her use an opponent’s superior strength against him. Gage would rather have one savvy girl on his team than three steroid-pumped thugs any day.

Three girls had formed a platform with their bodies and Rena did a complex rollout, jumped up and off, flipping to land in a gymnast’s full stop. With a start, he realized he knew the move from early
Tomb Raider
. Rena had adapted it for use in the real world. Impressive.

She gestured for another girl to try it. Rachel, he thought, was her name. WrathGirl on screen and fierce as a guard dog. She jumped and tried for the flip. If Rena hadn’t caught her, she’d have snapped her spine.

“Trap and shift your momentum,” Rena said, climbing onto the human platform, which swayed under her. “Tuck in to protect your neck, translate your downward force into forward motion.” She demonstrated again.

This time Rachel pulled it off. Baker and the Jamaican guy Rena had fought on Gage’s first day, along with another girl, did more moves. Then Rena had them repeat the sequence more quickly. With decent speed, the combo would be awesome. The rubbernecking guards could see that, too, and were shifting their weight, dying to participate, but unable to figure out how without losing their dignity.

Gage decided to help the Neanderthals. “So, you need more of us?” Gage said loudly, moving forward, as if they’d all just arrived together.

“That’d be great,” Rena said, acknowledging his help with a steady look. She was breathing hard, but her face burned with energy, her muscles were taut, ready for anything, totally in her element. Rena had the indomitable spirit of a true martial artist.
Never give in, never get low. You fall, you get up. Never stop fighting
.

“Where do you want me?” he asked, glad to help her out.

She indicated a spot near the sawhorses that formed a makeshift wall. She had taken his suggestion of using props. Wire spools stood in for barrels. She explained the assault she wanted to attempt. The Watchers who’d sneered from the sidelines took their time responding, strutting like cocks.

But Rena’s moves were flashy and fast, with plenty of twists, so before long they forgot they were being ordered around by a girl. Soon the Dome jumped with players eager to do whatever Rena commanded, stopping when she issued that ear-splitting whistle she had. Each run-through was better than the last and Rena’s grin spread wider and wider. She practically glowed—a real-life imitation of her online avatar Astra.

She was smart and strong and brave and a natural leader. She deserved more than this bizarre gamer ghetto. Maybe she’d figure it out and escape. If he could help her, he would.

…

Rena ended the practice with a whistle. She was completely wrung out, dripping with sweat, and panting for air. Every muscle in her body ached and she’d strained a hamstring, but she’d never been happier. She watched her fighters walk away, some to work their shifts, others to the arena for free-time gaming, and felt as if she’d led real troops in a real battle. They had followed her, done what she’d asked without question. Rena’s throat cramped tight and her eyes stung. She was humbled and honored and she would fight to be worthy of their trust.

“You pussies get your fingers all up in the dykes?” Roland jeered at his fellow Watchers leaving practice. That malevolent prick and his crew could wreck whatever progress Girl Power had made today.

Mentally drawing on a cloak of Astra’s calm light, Rena walked up to him. “You’re welcome to join us,” she said loudly enough for bystanders to hear. This head-on would count big, so she had to play it very carefully.

“That circus act?” Roland scoffed. “You and your trained poodles?” The room fell silent and attention arrowed straight to the two of them.

“I’d dial down the trash talk if I were you,” she said steadily, wanting to take out the guy’s knees, then stomp his testicles. “This is your Family.”

She felt Zeke and Bull step up behind her—they’d left their posts to help out. Gage and Boscoe moved to her right, Baker to her left—brothers in the coming conflict. She hoped to hell they didn’t think they were knights rescuing a damsel in distress. Her girls crowded around her, too, fire in their eyes.

“How about you and I go now?” she said, nodding toward the fighting space. “You can see firsthand how pussies and dykes throw down.”

Remembering the way Roland had treated Cassie, she burned to hurt the guy, but that was not the Lifer way. Besides, to best that much muscle mass, she had to keep her cool. Fury was the enemy of strategy.

Roland’s squinty eyes flicked here and there. He was afraid. She knew he was an asshole, but she didn’t think he was a coward. He’d meant to jeer from the sidelines, not get called on his shit in front of a crowd. His badass crew had slunk away, too. “I don’t fight chicks.”

“Fighters are fighters,” she said, low and deadly.

“Yeah,” Rachel said, elbowing her way next to Rena. “Skill has no sex. Power no gender.” That was the motto Rena used with the girls she trained.

“What the hell’s going on here?” Rick Bondurant broke through the circle of onlookers. “No one’s working door. The bar’s unattended and players need their cards juiced. Move it, people. This ain’t Lifer Monday. “You”—he stabbed his finger at Roland—“Mason wants you in the security office.”

“Next time then,” she said to Roland with dead-eyed calm.

“The minute your free pass expires, count on it.” He swaggered away.

Free pass?
What did that mean? She had no time to ask because Lifers were gathering around, slapping her back and banging knuckles.

“Very smooth,” Gage said. “You took him down without laying a finger on his sorry ass.”

“If I have to fight him I will.”

“That bruiser’s got fifty pounds and three inches on you, Rena.”

“So?”

“You’re something else, you know that?”

She grinned. She couldn’t help it. Pride made you cocky, but what the hell. “Thanks for joining in—and bringing the guys along.”

“Fighters are fighters, girl or guy, like you said.”

“As long as we can build from here this will work,” she said, almost bouncing in triumph.

“There were guys lined up to jump in when you called time.”

“Yeah. I noticed.” She liked seeing new respect in Gage’s eyes. She liked it a lot.

“I’ve got to get back to shift,” he said, moving a few inches closer, “but, look, I know you’re heading to Seattle in a couple days. I was thinking I’d like to temp up there, try out the town. I’ve always wanted to live there.”

“You want to move to Seattle?” She remembered he’d sounded restless when he talked about past jobs.

“Yeah. I like all the green.”

“It takes nine months a year of straight rain, gloom, and cold to grow all that.”

“You lived there?”

“As a kid, yeah.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“It was time.” She’d built up her Lara Croft courage and taken off. In the end, she’d been happy with the desert heat, open spaces, and rough mountains of Arizona.

“Anyway, Milo says it’s cool if I take an early half shift on Saturday, so I think we should go together. Take the Norton. You could drive as much as you want.”

“Like I said, the managers go together…” In a crowded, noisy van. On the bike, she’d have time to think. She could clear her head, settle herself, maybe practice her speech about the Dome with Gage.
And you could drive the Commando
.

“Let’s you and I have one last blowout trip before I have to sell my ride. We can celebrate your status jump, too.”

It would be a sweet trip, symbolic for them both. There would be hours with the wind in her face, the fierce engine beneath her.

And Gage’s body wrapped around you?

“I’ll think about it,” she said finally.

“But you’re leaning my way?”

She didn’t answer, but she was. She definitely was. Her body was already on board.

…

The next morning at nine, Rena eased into the conference room for her first Phoenix manager’s meeting, a stack of Girl Power brochures in her hand. She’d decided that besides talking about her Dome plans, she would let managers know about Nigel and Naomi’s support for the project.

The room smelled of fresh coffee and was alive with conversation from a dozen managers around the table. She noticed Rick Bondurant talking with Lionel Dray, who was nodding and smiling, so Rick must be telling him about the part-time Dome assignment he’d okayed. Rena had caught Rick in Blood Electric the night before to apologize for the Roland incident.

He’d shrugged that off, grudgingly impressed with her demo idea. He’d said yes to allowing Lionel to help her with no argument at all.
If you get real work out of that stoner, more power to you
.

Rena spotted Maya next to Mason Rockingham, the main money guy—CFO, she thought, was his title, standing for chief financial officer—and started for the empty chair on Maya’s left, then decided that might be perceived as acting
golden
. Taking an empty chair farther down, she saw too late that Leland Thomas would be beside her. What would she say to Cassie’s boss?

“So, you’re a manager now?” He seemed surprised, almost puzzled. She didn’t take offense because she knew he meant no disrespect. He was a non-Lifer employee, so he didn’t know much about how the Life worked.

“Today’s my first day.”

“Good luck to you.”

“Thanks. I need it.”

“Cassie was a big fan of yours.” He held her gaze, then broke it off suddenly, swallowing hard, staring down at the mechanical pencil he was flipping over and over. He was upset about losing Cassie, she was sure.

I miss her, too
. She felt the sting of emotion in her eyes and the tightness of her throat. “She liked you a lot, too.”

He glanced to either side, as if to be sure no one could hear them. “Do you know what happened?” he whispered.

So he didn’t know about the money scheme. That was strange, since he’d been Cassie’s boss. Rena had sworn to Maya she wouldn’t talk about Cassie’s real crime. “She’s an alcoholic. Maya’s helping her with rehab.”

“An alcoholic? No. I don’t buy that. She had an attitude on her, but she was smart and she did good work. It won’t be the same without her.”

“No, it won’t.” She wished she could ask him about who else in his department had been let go. Maya had said the employee involved had been
removed
, but this wasn’t the time or place. It wasn’t her place to ask questions at all really.