Page 7 of Failed State

“What, Huck?” Syd growls as she steps toward me. She’s got the scent now and I’m not going to be able to deny her.

Besides, I don’t want to—it makes a difference in terms of her safety in these damn games.

“Vamps don’t have the same…limitations… as other supes. That was part of the deal when Taterman did all this shit.” I hold my hand up before they can ask, shaking my head. “We can’t talk about how I found out or who told me.”

When I wave my hand around, to indicate why, their eyes fill with understanding. Anyone who overhears that story would sell me out in ten seconds flat. It’s highly guarded info and if it got around the sectors, the knowledge would foment dissent. Supes wouldn’t win, but a lot of people would die on both sides. Humans wouldn’t hesitate to use the vamps and force the locked down prisoners to fight for them.

Their Markers are different, too.

“Huck, you’ve been holding out on us,” our girl says in a tight, dark voice. “Why?”

“I’d prefer you stay alive, sweet pea. People who know this shit tend to die.” I duck my chin, unable to meet her eyes when I think about my sister. She was tortured until she spilled the truth, and then they killed her. I refuse to let that happen to anyone else I care about.

Thad crosses his big arms over his chest, frowning. “You think they’ll mix them in with the new supes in the sectors. It will make their telecast more entertaining.”

“Yes.”

Syd makes a strangled sound, stomping away from us down the street with her braid flying out behind her. Thad looks at me in confusion, but I know why she’s upset. Her father died trying to work with the humans, but because vamps are sneaky, rich assholes they were given special treatment. It’s triggered her grief, and she won’t allow us to see it consume her.

“Let’s head home, Thad. She needs space and time.”

At least, I hope so because tomorrow is coming whether Sydney is ready or not.

After I drop Thad off, I take a detour from the route to my tiny home. I want to see what’s crawling along the thorny vines of the underworld in Tempest Seven. Every sector has a darker side, and ours is no exception. The black market traders and less than scrupulous species live south of the demon horde, but before the lockdown bunkers. That’s where I’m going first because some of these supes, like the Fae, look humanoid enough for the humans to allow them to work in their offices.

I need someone who works in the logistics department or maybe in the Supe Relations division.

“Wonder if Angus is home yet?” I mumble as I slink along the shadows of the side streets. “Nah, he’ll be at the Shrieking Succubus and so will all his cronies.”

Angus McSherry is an angry little leprechaun who resents the fact that he wasn’t able to outwit the humans and escape the US when the sweeps started. His cohorts are all Fae, pixies, fairies, and other supes who should have flung themselves back into the Veil when the madness started. He runs his own little gang of informants and while he’s about as pleasant as sitting on a hedgehog, his crew is wired into the humans’ bullshit.

A low buzzing noise distracts me and I look over to see two enforcement drones zipping along the street. One is the audio confession type and the other looks like it’s a thermal video transmitter. They’re looking for someone, I bet, and whoever it is runs either very cold or very hot. Since vamps aren’t on the humans’ bad side, it must be an elemental magic user of some kind.

“Careful, demon. The drones are out in force tonight. No one knows why.” An old crone jerks her chin at the robots I already saw, her gnarled hand waving in the air. “The whole area is blanketed and no one can suss out what the skin bags are planning.”

I snicker when I realize she’s not an old witch—no, she’s a onibaba and she’s skulking around hoping to find a random human worker in the wrong place at the right time. “Understood, ma’ am. I’ll keep my peepers peeled.”

“Good. Far too many of them have gotten away with abusing our kind for too long.”

The old bat is a million years old, so if she gets caught whispering treason, they won’t execute her. However a young spry demon like me would get locked down so fast my head would spin—if I was lucky. Death is a much more likely outcome and since I enjoy living, I’m not going to take the chance.

Thaddeus is too soft to keep Sydney safe; I can’t leave them alone.

When I finally get to the Shrieking Succubus, I’ve clocked at least ten different types of spy bots flying around. The leaders of Tempest Seven are either hunting the shit out of someone or they’rereallyworried the announcement today is going to cause unrest. Either way, this is a hot zone of human squealers and everyone who lives here needs to be cautious.

“Huck! What brings ye here, boyo?”

My lips curve up as I stalk across the floor to the back corner where the shout came from. Angus is a pissy little shit, but he likes me because I help siphon his crew for a small stipend. After all, unlike Huck and Syd, I have to pay for my residence. A demon has to do something to earn money while they’re in school.

“Where’s me Lucky Charms, you old coot?” I shoot back, earning a dark glare from the short, red-haired man playing poker with a table full of ne’er-do-wells. “They’re magically delicious, you know.”

“If you don’t shut yer yap, I’m going to make lucky charms out of yer bollocks, boy.”

Chuckling as I drop onto the chair that appears out of nowhere, I lean in to study the players. Angus is sitting on the lap of a very curvy Seelie Fae girl half his age. She might be one of my classmates, but I don’t pay attention to girls who aren’t Syd. Next to him, a half-shifted wolf is holding his cards in his claws. The way everyone gives him space tells me he’s high in the pack hierarchy and I don’t need to piss him off. The third player is a gorgeous mage with aquiline features and a poker face that doesn’t even seem to move when he breathes.

Then there’s the last motherfucker—Saleos Ignia, the ugliest pit demon I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing. He grins at me, his sharp teeth sparkling in his maw as he clutches his cards.

I’d like to stab Ignia so many times he turns into a cube steak, but I can’t.

---