Page 36 of Throwing Fire

Fortunately, something does go over it. Kez holds up several handfuls of cloth. “I can’t decide.”

“Somethin’ soft.”

She tilts her head as she considers her options. “I was thinking more along the lines of body armor.”

All of the attempted hits so far have been up close and personal, but that don’t mean the next one will be. Still, true snipers are rare outside the military, and one of the many things I like about Kuseros is that it doesn’t have one. “Accordin’ to her file, Payton don’t even have basic skills. I think she’s got more to fear from us, than we got from her,” I pause for effect. “Specially from you. I’ll have to warn everyone we meet now about you. Hurricane-hands.”

She points at me with a handful of cloth. “That is not even remotely funny.”

I pounce on her, crossing the short distance between us in an easy leap and pinning her to the floor. “Show me the hurricane, kitten.”

She bats at me, but doesn’t put any real strength behind it, or any serious effort to fend me off and pretty soon we’re rolling around on the floor, kissing and wrestling, amongst the towels and Kez’s clothes. I bump up against her backpack and freeze when I hear something crunch.

Kez, sprawled on top of me, props her hands on her chin and rolls her eyes. “That was for Payton.”

“Oops.”

“Idiot.” She climbs off me, retrieves a handful of soft blue cloth from the floor and pulls it over her head. It’s an asymmetric tunic, off the shoulder. The blue cloth makes her eyes look insanely blue. Like icefire. The sweater is raveled and ripped in places, which is very Kez, even when her clothes are hot off the printer. Her white unisuit peeps through the holes and I realize there’s a pattern on the unisuit. It looks like skulls and crossbones, but when I peer at it, Irealize that they’re not crossbones. Each skull sports its own set of bunny ears.

Chuckling at my kitten’s sense of humor, I climb to my feet and help her gather her scattered clothes. While she’s balling them up – I swear she could not fold an item of clothing to save her fucking life – I run my hands over her. Soft cloth over softer skin. Exactly what I wanted to feel.

When she goes to stuff her clothes in her backpack, I peek inside the bag. Scoop out two pieces of a small figurine. “What was it, kitten?”

“Madonna and Child. Chi says Kimpler was a Krister. My Granna always had one of those around. I thought Payton might like it.”

Another thoughtful gift. I inspect the pieces. Looks like there’s a central joint that’s snapped under the figurine’s long blue robe. “Think I can fix this, kitten.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, gimme a minute.” I walk over to the flexypane by the door and tap up the interface with the hotel. A ‘bot immediately appears on the viewie. Could be the same one. I’m not sure how to tell. It’s just as obsequious as the one last night. The ‘bot promises the glue I’ve asked for will be delivered to the suite in less than five minutes. A delivery ‘bot arrives with two minutes to spare, waits while I apply the glue and whisks away after I instruct it to return the bags to theInfinity. The figurine sets up just fine, and I cradle it in one hand while I wait for Kez to finish in the ‘fresher. When she emerges, smelling of mint, I can tell she’s done something to her hair and face. Her bangs frame her face precisely, the tips just touching her chin. Her lips are a little glossier than usual; her eyes a little darker. She’s got rings through all her piercings. But Kez always looks beautiful to me, so I’m not sure why she bothers.

I hold out my hand for her backpack, shoulder it and hold out my hand for hers, which she gives me with a smile. “You’re just naturally pretty, aren’t you?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah.” Real pretty. Lotta women are put off by my looks. Toodark, too threatening, too sharp in some places, too blunt in others. The chop-doc on Cayster gave me a new face, but I didn’t ask him to make it pretty, and he didn’t. Only thing he did that I appreciated was cut down my ears, which used to be so big the boys in my squad called me ‘Copter. Kez has always looked beyond my face, right into my soul. That she finds my soul beautiful surprises me, but then, she sees more than most. “C’mon, kitten.”

We leave hand-in-hand. Our minds as synchronized as our bodies. We don’t talk during the five-minute walk through the fluffy clyros tree-lined streets from Cloud Palace to the address Payton has given us. We don’t need to; I know what she’s thinking.

Turns out, I’m completely wrong.

When we turn onto the street Payton’s given us, Kez looks up at me, chews her lip a little and says, “Will you come somewhere with me?”

“Any time. Anywhere. You know that.”

She nods hesitantly. “I want-I want to take you to meet Livvy.”

I stop in surprise. I’d figured Livvy was dead since Kez hasn’t introduced me to her.

Kez takes a few steps before she realizes I’ve stopped, backs up hastily. “What?” she asks.

“Why—” I trail off before I finish articulating the thought. I know why Kez hasn’t taken me to meet her mentor. I’m a Mod.

Kez looks up at me and flushes so deeply she rivals last night’s sunset.

I catch her chin in my hand. “Doesn’t matter, kitten.”

She swallows hard. “Yes, it does. What you said last night, about being proud of me? I’m proud of you, too. I’m proud of being with you. I want her to meet you.”

Sounds like a recipe for disaster. “You think that’s a good idea?”

---