The Rule of Luck (18 page)

I held my wrist aloft in the air so he wouldn't catch sight of his cousin with her breasts out on display and a nearly naked man lying on top of her. “Yes, just give me a second. You…you woke me up,” I said as I fought to put myself back together. Petriv scowled as he watched me struggle, barely giving me room to get organized.

Once I decided I was presentable, I tapped the screen and Rainy's face filled the holo that popped up. He had the same coloring as the rest of the Sevigny clan—straight, nearly black hair which he wore long and tied back along his neck, and blue-green eyes, though his were even more green than mine. However while I resembled my mother with her more rigidly defined classic One Gov features, Rainy's nose was sloped, his chin more pointed, his lips thinner. Still attractive, but not up to the ridiculous code.

“Felicia. Good, I caught you.”

“Yes, you did,” I said. Petriv arched an eyebrow.

“You sound strange. Are you in the middle of something?”

“Like I said, you woke me up. What do you want?”

“Right. I always forget the odd hours you keep. Listen, I wanted to make sure you'd be at Gran's birthday and that you're bringing the family deck.”

I'd been interrupted from another orgasm for this? “I got your messages—all half dozen of them. Yes, I'll be there with
my
cards. I haven't lost them if that's what everyone is so damned concerned about.”

“No, it's not that. I need a reading. Don't tell Gran I said that though. She's still pissed over the whole inheritance thing.”

“It's been years since Granny G died.” I studied his expression, difficult in the grainy holo. “If that's it, can I shim you back later? I'm kind of—”

“Are you alone right now? I need to talk to you about something,” he said, looking disconsolate.

I shot another look at Petriv, who made no move to leave. I sighed and tried to turn away. Yet another problem with the c-tex bracelet—lack of privacy. Without the earplug in, anyone could overhear my conversation.

“Not really. I can shim you back if—”

“I just found out I've been blacklisted.”

I froze. Any thought of getting back to more orgasms faded immediately. “
What?
”

Rainy stumbled on, speaking as if he couldn't stop now that he'd broken the seal. “Zita and I applied to have a baby. We did the paperwork, jumped through all the hoops, did everything we were expected to, but we were rejected. I had some people I know look into it. That's when I found out I've been blacklisted. Felicia, we can't have a baby. Zita's devastated. She wants to leave me. I can't let that happen. I love her too much. I thought maybe you could do a reading and convince her everything's okay. Maybe tell her it's a glitch in One Gov's AI. Something. Anything to make her stay. I'm not concerned about the baby, but I can't lose her. You have to help me.”

Rainy was so close to breaking. My heart hurt and I found my eyes welling with tears. Along with the pain came fury. It wasn't just my life my mother had manipulated.

“Rainy, I'm so sorry. Of course I'll help. I'm not sure how yet, but you know I'll do whatever I can,” I promised. “Let me think about this for a bit and see what answers I can come up with. I have to go now, but I'll see you at the party.”

“Okay. Thanks, Felicia. See you in a few weeks.”

The face-chat shim ended and the pop-up vanished. I sat back on the couch, my breath coming out in a shocked whoosh. This wasn't just about me anymore. It was more than feeling betrayed by Roy, or missing my personal belongings. We'd all been played by TransWorld and my mother without even realizing it. Every person I loved was affected.

It took a moment for me to calm down enough to speak. I looked up at Petriv. “Did you know about this? Did you know it wasn't just me who was blacklisted?”

“I suspected, but didn't investigate. It's the connection to your mother that interests me, not the rest of your family.”

Though I couldn't really fault his logic, his answer left me cold. Didn't he have people in his life he would do anything to protect? Was there no one he would willingly die for to keep them safe? “You don't touch family. Family is sacred.”

“Of course. I'll have someone look into their status.”

That answer wasn't good enough. “Not just look into it. I want their blacklisted status revoked too.” I thought quickly, making a decision. “I want to change our agreement. I'll work for you and get you access to my mother, and the Consortium fixes this for my family.”

He gave me a level look. “No. That's not what we agreed to, Ms. Sevigny. This isn't how these things work.”

“I don't care how they work. This is my entire family I'm talking about! You can't just fix my status and leave the rest unchanged. That's inhuman! If you can change mine, how hard can it be to change the rest?”

“This isn't up for negotiation. The answer is still no.”

I shot up off the couch, pissed. “Then you can just forget all this!” I waved vaguely in the air, gesturing at everything and nothing. “Get your own damn access to my mother. Oh, that's right! You can't. You need me. Well, I need this fixed.”

Petriv rose as well, his expression surprised. “Are you actually threatening me?”

Gods, was I? What the hell was I thinking? But I also knew I couldn't let this go. My gut agreed.

“I'm just modifying our original agreement. All I know is that I can't leave things like this if there's a way to fix them. What kind of person would I be if I did nothing to help them when I could make this right? If you can't do anything, that's fine. But if you
won't
do anything, then…I'm not sure I can do what you want either. I can't have my blacklisted status revoked and leave the rest of my family to rot. I just can't.”

He gave me a long, piercing look, his blue eyes narrowing. I returned it with one of my own until I began to wonder if what I wanted was impossible and I'd have to back down.

“Alright. I'll consider it,” he said finally. All signs of the man who'd just been between my legs had disappeared. It was as if he were a different person now, all business and logic with desire packed away in an untouchable box.

“Thank you.” I guess that was as good as I was going to get for now. Still, I pressed on with: “Why would my mother do that? What would she gain by blacklisting my whole family?”

“There's a simple way to answer that,” he reminded me, his tone bland.

I sighed. “I know. We're going to Brazil.”

“Exactly.” He held out an arm to me. Confused, I took it and let him walk us to the hall. He pointed me in the direction of the dining room. “I suggest you get some breakfast and take the zone meds. We're leaving this afternoon. Please be ready by noon, Ms. Sevigny.”

Startled, I watched him walk off in the other direction until he vanished around the corner. What. The. Fuck. The whole thing was so bizarre I wasn't even sure what had happened. Obviously he was annoyed I'd answered Rainy's shim, and maybe I shouldn't have done it given how close he'd been to being inside me. The timing had truly been horrible. Still, after hearing from Rainy, how could I react any differently? How could I not try to change things? If Petriv had a problem with how I worked, he could take it up with me later.

I went in the direction he'd pointed me, though no longer interested in eating. Instead, I wanted to run my cards. Sometimes they were the only things in the world that could calm me—my own special brand of therapy. Even if I didn't like their answers, they at least made me feel like I was doing something.

It was only once I reached the dining room that I realized I'd completely lost track of my panties. Petriv had destroyed them, and I had no idea where they'd ended up. Mortified someone might find them, I raced back to the study to look. And look I did. I spent fifteen minutes crawling all over the room, looking under furniture, flipping cushions. They weren't there, and there was no way anyone could have entered the room in the short time I'd been gone. That meant one thing—Petriv had them. That sneaky bastard had walked off with them like they were some sort of trophy. Maybe he planned on tossing them, but my gut said otherwise. In fact, a ridiculous warm glow spread through me that I couldn't shut off. I mean, gods, the man had stolen my underwear even after I'd threatened him. How kinky was that? It was also annoying and made me angry. What kind of messed up relationship was this becoming? What else did he want from me and how far was this going to go? Maybe he wasn't as remote or controlled as I thought and I had more power here than I realized. I just had to dig a little deeper to find out what made him tick. Not a problem. He was one puzzle I was most definitely interested in solving. Of course, once I solved it, was I going to like what I found?

The journey to Brazil passed in a blur thanks to the combination of zone meds and lack of sleep. As Petriv had disturbingly noted, I'd barely slept in the past two days. I took the two dissolving mint-flavored pills as instructed by Karol, but either I'd been too exhausted or the dosage was too high because they knocked me for a loop. I was so far gone, I wasn't even sure if we flew regular commercial or took another fast high-orbit flight.

As far as I could tell, Petriv, Oksana, her husband, Vadim, whom I vaguely remembered from Denver, and more chain-breakers traveled with us. Karol also could have been there, plus a few others for all I knew. The last thing I remembered was Petriv crouching before my seat, smoothing my hair and saying something to Oksana. After that, I was well and truly out cold.

When I woke, I was fully clothed on a strange bed in the dark. I sat up with a start and swore. “Lights,” I said, my voice hoarse from lack of use. Instantly the room was ablaze, as if every fixture had been programmed to turn on at the sound of my voice. I blinked and shielded my eyes with my hand. Once they'd adjusted to the brightness, I found myself alone in a standard-issue hotel room, though far better than anything I could afford. The bed itself was massive and it took some work to climb off the thing.

Checking my bracelet, I found a message from Oksana. It indicated the details of the hotel, my room number, that my belongings were unpacked, and that I should make myself comfortable. Everyone else was “out” and would return by noon, local time. That gave me four hours to amuse myself. I frowned; I'd slept for almost twenty-four hours.

I ordered room service, took a bath, checked out the balcony and the view overlooking the pool, caught up with shims I'd saved for later, and ran a few Tarot spreads while I cooled my heels. Soon, I'd meet my mother. What would she be like? I'd seen the pictures and read the cards so I knew what to expect, but who was she really? Nerves twisted my stomach. Worse, I couldn't concentrate on the reading, which made me wish I could access Eleat. That in turn reminded me of my missing cards, TransWorld's violation of my home, and Roy's lies, and all that stirred up a fresh serving of anger and nerves.

By the sixth or seventh spread, I gave up. I'd focused on my mother and her environment, but the cards kept showing children around her. Was it my family's children I saw—the ones she and TransWorld denied us? Or did she have other children besides me—even though that was illegal? She was a geneticist, Petriv said. Maybe she experimented on them, although the idea was too awful to contemplate. Besides, the cards weren't giving me that vibe. She cared about the children, yet didn't. I couldn't figure it out and the more I poked at the idea, the less the cards told me.

I had decided to try one last spread as I sprawled on the massive bed when I heard a knock at the door. High noon. The mobsters were back. My exile was over.

“Felicia, hello? Are you in there?”

Oksana. I swept my cards into a bedside drawer, then jumped down from the bed—yes, jumped—and trotted to the door. I was only slightly winded by the time I got there. Seriously, how big a room did a person need?

A quick scan of the hall using the AI access screen beside the door showed four people. None were Petriv, to which my stomach offered a jolt of anxiety. Not my gut—my stomach. This was nerves talking, not luck. Nerves meant I looked forward to seeing him, even after yesterday's exchange. Like chasing the dragon, I
wanted
to re-experience the dangerous feelings I had whenever he was around. Not good. Those feelings made things complicated. How could it be otherwise given what he could do to me and whatever he represented? I shook my head and opened the door.

I found Oksana and three bodyguards. Two were holding various packages. The third had his hands free to do whatever…Guard bodies, I supposed. As usual, I couldn't tell them apart. I wondered if I kept seeing the same group over and over again or if they were being switched around. I guess it didn't matter. It wasn't my job to keep them sorted.

Oksana swept into the room, a golden vision with her blond hair in flowing waves, wearing a gold fabric tube-mini that molded to her body, skimmed the top of her breasts and along her butt, and fastened in front with three buttons. She pulled me into a hug that ended with kisses on both cheeks.

“Ah, Felicia, finally you're awake! You slept a long time, but you needed it. Rest can do wonderful things for the mind and body. The zone meds are working as they should and you're regulated to local time.” She tilted my head critically, holding my face up to the light, studying it. “Very good. And with no modifications whatsoever, I'm told. Lucky girl.”

This seemed like high praise from the golden goddess. “I just started the Renew therapy this year.”

“Ah, what I wouldn't give to be twenty-five and do it all to do over again! Bah. Not worth dwelling on.” She waved a hand at the air. Then she turned to the chain-breakers, ordering them about in Russian. They jumped into action, dumping their packages on the room's two settees and the floor. That got Oksana yelling and waving her arms wildly. She gave me a disparaging look. “These galoots are so useless and stupid sometimes. Terrible for shopping. I often wonder what might happen if they had to deal with real danger.”

“Maybe just don't take them shopping?” I suggested, watching as one big chain-breaker fought to juggle several pairs of shoes and boots at once. Part of me was disappointed I hadn't been able to go with her. Another part of me wanted to clap my hands like an overexcited child, thrilled to see what she'd brought me.

“Alexei insisted.” Oksana plucked up a pair of sandals. “He doesn't like Brazil. Actually, ‘like' is too mild. He loathes this part of the world.”

“Why? What's not to love?”

“You've no doubt noticed how much Alexei likes control. When the world governments collapsed and One Gov moved to consolidate, they scouted locations relatively free of natural disasters with a homogeneous population who wouldn't revert to homegrown terrorism. At that point, Brazil was such a country. To Alexei, it's too much power in one place that's not Russia or anywhere he holds influence.” She turned to face me, grinning. “He asked me to sort out your wardrobe. Hopefully you'll like what I selected.”

There, I did clap my hands and bounced a little on my feet. Even if it was frivolous of me, it was nice to be in a moment where I could just enjoy myself. “Show me everything!”

Her grin widened as she straightened various articles of clothing on the settees for my consideration. So many little dresses and in so many different colors; it seemed like everything glittered and stretched and revealed much more skin than it hid.

“We don't dress like this back in Kenya,” I remarked as I held up a tube-shaped dress that I wasn't sure would cover both my breasts and butt at the same time, no matter how stretchy the material.

“This is Brazil,” Oksana said knowingly. “It is one of my favorite things about this country. There is so much freedom here to be exactly who you want to be.” In her next breath, she said something in Russian to the chain-breakers standing at attention and flung a hand toward the door. All three exited, the door slamming behind them.

“There's no need for their services now. Alexei would be quite angry if he learned they witnessed this.”

I frowned. “You make it sound like he's trying to shield me from male attention.”

Oksana put down the glittering shoes she'd been holding and looked at me. “Yes, I suppose there is an element of that involved. He can be…possessive. My understanding is you have an arrangement with him, do you not?”

“A business arrangement that seems to keep sliding into something else,” I muttered, feeling my face burn. “Regardless, it ends when the TransWorld bid is awarded.”

“I see.” Her voice drifted off thoughtfully; then she added, “There are many women who would be envious of your position in his life right now.”

I started at the sharp stab of jealousy I felt at the thought of other women. “Frankly, I'm not sure what that position actually is.”

“Well, I can tell you he's asked me to do everything in my power to see that you're comfortable. That he is investing more of his personal time in this project than usual. That he's rarely so hands-on once a plan has been set in motion. Depending on its complexities, he typically leaves the job to Vadim, myself, and those we deem appropriate. His involvement now is highly unusual. I assumed you were the reason.”

I felt my stomach twist in a nosediving rush of excitement and nerves. “I know he wants me, and of course it's impossible not to be attracted to him. I mean, look at him. How could I not want him? He's…” I sighed, not sure what I wanted to say. Telling her he was
too
perfect wouldn't cut it. “I know I'm just here to unravel TransWorld for the Consortium. Without me, there's no plan. Beyond that, I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the Consortium's agenda. I don't think the two of us would really be compatible in the end.”

She tapped her lips, then smiled. “Perhaps it's as you say. However if I may offer a word of advice, I do suggest that you open yourself up a little. There are very few men like Alexei in this world, and I would hate for you to regret a missed opportunity.” Then she brushed the whole situation away with a wave of her hand and held up a dress. “Come. Try this on. Alexei wants you ready on the hour and we've already wasted twenty minutes.”

I knew nothing about Petriv's plans for the afternoon other than the fact that I needed to wear comfortable clothing. Aside from shoes without heels, Oksana and I had very dissimilar ideas when it came to what to wear. In this case—a strapless green tube-mini and hair swept into an elaborate uptwist.

Precisely at one, two chain-breakers escorted me to the elevator and down to the hotel lobby. The elevator was encased in a thick glass tube on the outside of the building, allowing passengers a bird's-eye view of Curitiba. I looked out at the sprawling megacity with its massive towers housing thousands. Brazil was one of the most populated countries in the world and it seemed its city planners were intent on building straight up. Much of its eastern coast had been decimated by the rising global floodwaters during the Dark Times. Some cities had been abandoned while others retreated inland. In theory, the idea was that in building up, green space would still be available rather than overrun with housing. But looking out the elevator glass, all I could see was urban sprawl.

The elevator doors opened into an impressive lobby. I'd studied the hotel floor plans earlier on the CN-net—I was big on knowing where emergency exists were located—but to see it firsthand was something else. It looked the way I imagined a hotel might have looked in colonial times. Not when Mars was first colonized—older—back when the Old World discovered they weren't the center of the universe and set about exploiting everything they could. Dark fab-wood furniture. A marble floor with alternating tiles of black and white. Murals of exotic animals on the walls. Ornamental palm trees in the corners. Chandeliers dripping with crystals and lighting up the mosaic-patterned ceilings high above. The air was cool and dry and smelled faintly of woodsy musk. Hotel guests sat in clusters of intimately arranged wicker furniture scattered around the massive room.

Tucked into a separate room of its own was the hotel bar. Aside from the bartender who wiped glasses in a way suggesting he had nothing else better to do, I saw only one person there.

Alexei Petriv leaned a forearm on the bar, holding a half finished drink. One foot rested on a barstool and he had a vacant look on his face, suggesting he was browsing the CN-net. As we approached, I noticed female guests whispering to each other and shooting glances in his direction. I completely understood. If I'd been them, I'd be whispering to my girlfriends about Petriv too.

We were halfway to him when he switched on again. He turned and I caught the full force of his gaze. If not for the chain-breakers with me, I think I might have stopped walking altogether. He wore a lightweight gray suit, white shirt open to mid-chest, leaving some of his tattoos partially visible. Black hair fell into his eyes and he pushed it away with an absent swipe of his hand, and there was about a day's growth of dark stubble on his face. He looked predatory and dangerous. Watching him watching me, I knew something had changed. I wasn't sure what or why, but I felt our relationship had shifted. Was this the real Petriv, come out to play? Gods help me if it was.

He finished his drink, set down the glass, and offered up the sexiest smile I'd ever seen. Hell. His eyes took me in from head to toe, as if considering all of Oksana's careful work and deciding it was more than adequate. When he reached out to me, part of me wanted to slap his hand away, while the other part of me simply went to him, unable to refuse.

His hand took mine, engulfing it. This close, I could smell subtle cologne that nearly had me falling into his arms. I also caught a faint odor of alcohol, which made me wonder how long he'd waited there. Over my head, he spoke in Russian to the bodyguards, who peeled off and disappeared. My tension rose a notch. Did I think I needed protection from him?

“Have a seat,” he said, and before I could protest, he picked me up by the waist and set me on the barstool beside him as if I weighed nothing.

My eyes narrowed. “Are you drunk?” I didn't care if I sounded critical and disapproving. It was the only defense I had against him.

“Unfortunately, no. I metabolize alcohol too quickly. It would take a significant amount of time, effort, and alcohol to work me up into a proper stupor.”

“Then why bother?”

He stared into his empty glass. “I like the taste and it reminds me of home.”

“Isn't it a bit stereotypical to be Russian and drink vodka?”