Shades of Gray - By Jackie Kessler & Caitlin Kittredge Page 0,30
the mercenary called Taser had lied to her, back when he’d captured her and Iri weeks ago, that he wasn’t really the same man who had been her Runner.
The same man she had taken to her bed.
But the proof was right there in front of her. No, he hadn’t lied—not then, and not now. Though she despised that she had been his assignment, she could appreciate his work ethic.
And damn it all to Darkness, she was still attracted to him. Stupid hormones.
“What do you want, Bruce?” she asked again, her voice flat.
“You and the others are in a bind,” he said. “Too much chaos, not enough control.”
“Your point?”
“I was a Runner,” he said. “I can gather up the others, organize them into a cohesive unit.”
“The others?”
“The other Runners. Think about it—a dedicated civilian group that would support you and the others.”
She frowned. “You could do that?”
“Honey, I’m damn good at my job. When I was your Runner, I made sure to learn everything I could about the Runner network, how they operated, and what they did. How to contact others in a pinch.” He grinned, and Jet’s stomach fluttered. “They’re running scared now, like sheep. All I have to do is herd them, and they’ll be back in support mode in no time flat.”
Light, how much easier things would be, having even a little help. They could work with Frostbite on sorting through the Corp data, decrypting it in their search for information on Martin Moore and his horrific serum. Meteorite would create their communications unit and start working the streets, countering the Everyman message and publicly reassuring the citizens of New Chicago and the world that, even in the face of madness, a handful of them still stood strong.
But … this was Bruce. And as tempting as his offer was, she couldn’t bring herself to trust him. “What do you get out of it?”
“You mean other than the satisfaction of helping those on the side of justice?” He chuckled. “My standard rates apply.”
Of course. Taser was a mercenary. He never did anything for free. Even when he’d seduced her, he’d gotten paid for it.
“I’ll call for a meeting with the others,” she said tightly. “I’ll let you know what we agree to.”
His sensuous lips pulled into a smirk. “You do that, honey. Not like there’s a crisis or anything.”
She opened her mouth to say something she’d certainly regret, but that was when Meteorite’s voice hummed in her ear.
“Babe, you free?”
“Just slumming,” Jet said, staring hard at Bruce.
“Slum later. A bomb went off in the Downtown Grid, on Third. I need you to help New Chicago’s Bravest.”
“On it.” She paused, then said, “Firebug’s busy?” The Fire power was a natural for such situations.
A longer pause from Meteorite. “She opted out of this one.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard.”
A Squadron soldier choosing not to help firefighters? Unfathomable. Baffled, Jet asked, “Where’d the bomb go off?”
“The Everyman Society regional office.”
Jet closed her eyes. Her head throbbed, and she was drained, and the thought of dealing with Everyman, even for something like this, made her heartsick.
“On it,” Jet said softly, then tapped her comlink to white noise.
“Duty calls, eh?” Bruce smiled at her. “Some things never change.”
“And some things do.” She wanted to tell him to drop dead. She wanted to ask him to come with her. And, horrifically, she wanted him to hold her, kiss her, run his fingers through her hair. She scowled.
He said, “You need any assistance on this?”
And there it was. Pride, or common sense?
Jet gave him her back, summoning a Shadow floater. The voices, thankfully, were still silent; maybe they were bemused by her reaction to Bruce. She said, “Gosh, I’m all out of milk money. I guess I’ve got this one all by myself.”
“For you, Jet, I’m happy to throw in a freebie.”
“Most men at least buy me dinner first. I’ll get back to you about the Runner network.”
“You know how to find me?”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I’ll just have another impromptu press conference. I’m sure you’ll come running to save me.”
The sound of his laughter followed her as she rocketed away.
CHAPTER 13
IRIDIUM
In vitro test subjects are risky. The incarcerated population provides an ample cross section of genetic material to test gene therapy on, and raises considerably fewer questions.
—Matthew Icarus, research notes, undated
There were times when Iridium wished she had a normal father. One who hadn’t gone rabid. One who’d been around for birthdays and recitals.