been paid bonuses to get information on me, something that shouldn’t have surprised me but did. “What are the odds these mothers want me to actually, well, try to turn her eldest son into something more useful than some rich little prince?”
“Pretty damned high. I’ve reviewed the auction roster, and a lot of the men are in need of a lot of polish. They’re not precisely bad men, but they are not ready to take over as the head of their household. With you around, he’ll have to step up his game or lose it to you altogether. That’s something we’ve learned about vixens. In a family environment, vixens will take over if given a single chance, and you’ve demonstrated you’re smart, you have street sense, and that you’re capable of handling just about anything.”
“Except getting shot,” I muttered.
“I expect that will be a major concern for your buyer, as you’re quite the investment. The bounty for the shooter will likely rival your recovery fee, and in the Alley? That’ll have everyone looking at anyone who has a gun. I suspect the few who do have them are going to be quite cautious about their use.”
“Ammunition is expensive and hard to get, too.”
“Right. It’s a mystery who found a gun, got the bullets, and wanted you gone bad enough to stage an ambush and shoot you several times. Heartless bastard, too, leaving you to bleed to death in an alley like that.”
I remembered not to shrug. While my ribs and side had healed, it still hurt to move and would for a while. “There’s not much that can be done about it right now, and I have bigger things to worry about.”
Dr. Dorothy checked her watch. “Yes, you do. It’s showtime.”
Friday, May 22, 2043.
Albany, New York.
The East.
* * *
Dr. Dorothy allowed me to walk to my fate, something I considered to be a vast improvement, as she’d barred me from walking more than twenty feet for the past week while I recovered and dealt with my infections. To my amusement, we went a few doors down to a large chamber reminiscent of a school’s tiered assembly room or a concert hall. The entrance put us in a walkway beneath the second tier, circling a central platform. While it could seat hundreds, a crowd of no more than thirty people sat in the ground-level tier facing where a sole armchair waited.
“You’ll get a front row seat to your auction at least. The auctioneer will come out in five minutes to give them a chance to look you over. If you act completely uninterested in them, it’ll drive them wild.”
“But does driving them wild raise my auction price?”
“With this lot? Very probably. Good luck, Jade.” Dr. Dorothy turned and left, something I found to be amusing, as there wasn’t anyone nearby to stop me from following her. The guards stationed in the auction house’s maze of hallways would catch me eventually, but I could bolt out of the auditorium before someone caught me.
There would be time enough for defiance later, once I got a better feel for my situation, learned who was crazy enough to pay so much for me, and whether or not I might turn them into allies. I could only hope the family wasn’t associated with those behind the slow and inevitable destruction of the city I’d learned to call home despite its many dangers.
I already missed the wildness of the Alley and its residents, who flirted with death daily.
I carried Peace to the steps leading up to the central platform, eased onto the armchair, and did as Dr. Dorothy suggested, feigning boredom and a general disinterest, careful to keep my ears relaxed and avoid staring at any of the figures, who wore black clothing and hooded, dark cloaks, which hid their faces along with the help of gauzy scarves pulled over their noses and mouths.
I took that to mean the auction house didn’t want any of their guests to be able to readily identify each other. Interesting.
Judging from the presence of breasts the cloaks couldn’t hide, most of the bidders were women, supporting Dr. Dorothy’s claim the matrons of wealthy households wanted somebody to either tame or reform their wayward sons, who would one day be in charge. Less than impressed with the circumstances leading to being shot and taken to the East, I maintained the disinterested expression I used in the bar when I feared the rowdier men would interpret any change in my expression as interest.
The