Page 16 of Throwing Fire

I bow to her, since I’m still not sure how the rats view cross-gender touching. She holds out her hand and I shake it, while using the opportunity to observe her. She isn’t beautiful. Oh, she’s pretty enough. Nice little body in a form-fitting, artfully slashed andholobroidered unisuit. Head of soft brown curls. Heart-shaped face. Nothing Acker couldn’t find on a hundred other girls.

Then I look into Grace’s eyes. Long, almond-shaped, hazel-colored eyes. Unmodified, unremarkable, except that they’re full of all the wonder in the universe. Same thing I see when I look into Kez’s eyes. Grace’s soul is right there in her eyes. Open, almost innocent. And I understand completely what’s driving Acker to make that his.

Fuck.

I pass her over to Kez quickly, since I do not want to be on the receiving end of those eyes for long, particularly with the little monster still at half-mast after that sexy dancing. The Kuus rat-men smelled much too fucking well for comfort. Acker’s senses may or may not be that keen, but the last thing I want is for him to smell any arousal when I look at his girl.

Once the introductions are done, Grace asks if she can get us anything to drink. I let Kez order first, to see if she orders booze, and when she sticks to nectar, I follow suit. Getting drunk with the temptation of Grace nearby would be a bad idea anyway, but if we’re throwing fire later, it’s safer to be sober.

Captain Match engages Kez in conversation immediately, leaving me free when Grace returns with our drinks. She hands a bulb to Kez, then stands looking up at me, holding my bulb without offering it to me. The eye contact makes me uncomfortable, even more so because I don’t think she knows what she’s doing. There’s absolutely no guile behind the come-on in her eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Hauser,” she says softly.

I very, very carefully give her blank face as I correct her. “It’s Snow.”

“Oh.” She pauses. Contemplation flickers across her face. Looks like an alien emotion. “Sorry, that’s right. Mister Snow.”

Not like Kez after all. My kitten’s known my real name almost from the beginning, but she’s been extremely careful never to use it where anyone could overhear. I gather the rats also know my realname, but Acker and Tiancha have been careful not to use it. Whether out of respect or to preserve it as a bargaining chip, I don’t know, but Grace either ain’t that smart, or ain’t that politically savvy.

“Is that for me, Grace?” I tip my chin at the drink she holds.

She nods but doesn’t hold the drink out to me. “Did you know that Tiancha can see the future?” she asks.

No, I didn’t know. But it makes sense, since Acker calls her his ‘Wisdom.’ Retrogenned modifications often cause unanticipated changes in brain chemistry, but precognition is extremely rare. Psychosis, on the other hand, not so much.

Grace continues as if I’d answered her. “She says you’re going to save Acker’s life.”

“Does she?”

“So I’d just like to saythank youin advance.” She looks up into my eyes and smiles. A real smile, a smile that has the full force of all that sweetness behind it. My balls clench, because trained on me, that sweetness is sickly. It’s not for me, that sweetness. The only sweetness I want or need is Kez’s, and no one but Kez should be looking at me that way.

Grace stretches up on her toes and leans in to plant a kiss on my cheek.

I slide away a step, so she kisses air. Take my drink from her. Kez will go fucking nuts if she sees Grace kissing me. I don’t know how Acker will react, but there’s absolutely no need to find out.

“You’re welcome,” I tell her. Turn slightly at a touch on my elbow to find Kez back at my side, sliding her arm through mine. Her j-dar is in fine working order.

“Captain Match is just telling me about Java,” Kez says. “Do you remember him?”

“Yeah, Kuus Pack,” I respond, grateful for the diversion. I turn a little more to face Captain Match, not quite turning my back on Grace. I don’t want to snub her, but I also don’t want any more eye-contact with her. Or to give her any more opportunities to touch me.I don’t care how the dinner seating is planned. I’m fucking not sitting anywhere near her. In fact, I might sit with Kez in my lap. “Went down the same time as Tyng Two.”

Old Man Tyng’s son and heir apparent, Sokun, was killed in the Kuus underground, while playing meet ‘n’ greet with the Pack, who are a slightly more cannibalistic version of the Whites. Sokun Tyng’s death prompted the shitstorm that ended with me killing the Old Man, Chiara taking her father’s place, and me and Kez running the Old Man’s empire. Kez says she doesn’t believe that the Kuus Pack had anything to do with Sokun Tyng’s death, but I’ve never been convinced. One of the first things I did when I got access to the Tyng-net was review all the intel I could find. But there wasn’t anything solid. A couple of suggestions that the hit was an inside job, which led to the Old Man taking down Kimpler, but even that was more guesswork than anything else. When Kez and I were dealing with Tyng, it seemed like he had absolutely everything and everyone under his thumb. Having peered behind the veil, I realize that a lot of his moves were guesswork and desperation. Personally, I think he made a mistake in killing Kimpler. And weirdly, since Kimpler’s left behind several clones, that’s a mistake I could rectify. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

“Java down, yes,” Captain Match says, slow and deep, like the voice of the fucking bedrock. I thought my voice was deep. “But he not out. He face a full hand of the Snake’s assassins, but he survive.”

I lift an eyebrow. “The Snake’s assassins.” The Whites called Old Man Tyng the ‘Crystal Snake,’ after the Hex he peddled. “You’re saying Tyng killed his own son?”

Captain Match gives a slow nod. “Java wound two. He say they bleed like the Broken Moon. Silver and black.”

Those are the Tyng corporate colors. There’s branding and then there’s bleeding the company logo. Even the geneers that work for Tyng Enterprises ain’t that modified. Java sounds like a nut. Of course, of all the rats I’ve met, the only one who I’d really callsaneis Acker. “Yeah, what else he say?” I ask.

Kez gives me a subtle elbow. Guess my sarcasm was a little too obvious. “Just curious, kitten,” I add, to take the edge off and remind Captain Match that, no matter what a prick I am, I’m still with Kez.

Captain Match doesn’t seem to take offense. “He say they fight like Orclas. No mercy. To the last man.”

That’s not my experience with the aquatic predator. The one that attacked Kez and me a few weeks ago turned tail as soon as Kez wounded it. Maybe it was a baby. “If Java wounded two, who took out the others?”

“Crystal Snake’s ownem son. He kill three before they send him to Lady Mot.”

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