Spellhacke- M. K. England Page 0,19

barely a second later.

“Sorry, I . . . sorry,” he says. And sure enough, he slips a slim glass vial with a stimspell from his pocket and crumbles it onto his tongue with a sparking glow. Called it. “This project is complex. It wears on you.”

I check the status of the transaction on my lens display—paid in full, yes—then nod at the guy.

“We’ll take care of our end, so put it out of your mind and focus on your project. You need any weaving services along with the raw stuff?”

He waves me off. “No, just the raw maz. I’ve got the rest.”

I shrug. “Your choice. We’ve got the best, though, so don’t go shopping around elsewhere. You change your mind, you come to me.”

He raises a hand in farewell and ducks back through the rooftop door without another word. I watch him go, then flop onto my back for one last moment alone with the sky.

With any luck, next week I won’t be sitting under these stars alone.

Five

I SLIP BACK INTO THE club with fire in my veins, practically vibrating with the thrill of another job. Maybe I’m not ready to be done with this business after all. This is what I’m good at. The hacking, the deals, running from the cops in this city that I know better than myself. Why would I give it up?

The atmosphere in the club is oppressive after the fresh night air, the sunnaz decor suddenly false and pale in comparison to the stars. I scan the room, looking between all the writhing bodies for three familiar forms, trying to disconnect my emotions in case I see something I really don’t want to see.

But the others are nowhere to be found.

Did they leave without me?

I feel it start inside me as if watching from a distance. My shoulders hunch in. My breathing grows shallow. Stay calm, just look at the crowd. I wasn’t gone that long, so it’s unlikely they’ve already left. I just missed them, obviously. They’re here, somewhere. I close my eyes, take three deep breaths, and prepare to scan the crowd again. When I open my eyes, they’ll be there. They will.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I nearly jump right into the burly guy in front of me. Heart racing, I whirl around and come face-to-face with Ania.

“What’s with the face?” she says, lifting her hands in surrender.

“This is just my face,” I practically snarl. Whoa, rein it in. I need her not to kill me when I tell her about our new last job ever. A little sucking up might be in order. Over Ania’s shoulder, Remi and Jaesin are messing around, flicking things off a table at each other and laughing. I guess everyone was fine without me. What was I expecting?

Well, their attitudes will change one way or the other when I tell them about this new job I’ve already committed to and accepted payment for without asking them, hah. In my mind, of course, Remi is immensely grateful for the opportunity to go to their dream school, and Jaesin is secretly relieved he doesn’t have to move, and Ania is glad for the excuse to break some rules and get away with it one last time before reverting back to perfect-student mode. More likely, though, is a giant temper tantrum from Jaesin that’ll set everyone else off. Not exactly something I want to go down in public.

I school my expression and force some of the tension out of my shoulders. “Hey, can we head home?”

Ania’s gaze sharpens. “What happened? I saw you and Remi dancing, and then you were just . . . gone, for like an hour.”

Almost two hours, actually, but who’s counting?

“I need to talk to everyone,” I say, and leave it at that. Ania frowns, but nods. A message pops up in our group chat.

*~Epic Group Chat: GRAND FAREWELL WEEK Edition~*

Ania: Hey, stop horsing around and let’s go

Remi: wow, that might be the most mom thing you’ve ever said

you’ve officially spent too much time with jaesin

I’m sorry, you’re cut off

Jaesin: *eyeroll*

Remi glances over in our direction and we lock eyes for a long, uncomfortable moment. I can’t seem to get anything right when it comes to them. Every time I start to fix things, I just screw them up all over again. Worse, if possible. If we do this one thing, though, if they stay . . . maybe it can be the start of something new. Maybe I can do better.

I