The Rule of Luck (8 page)

He made a sound like a growl. It was so overtly sexual that my knees gave out completely. Not that it mattered. He had one hand fisted in my hair, holding me in place. His other hand cupped my backside, moving me against him in a way I was helpless to resist. My hands grasped at the solid muscle beneath his shirt, clinging to him. The fast, hard pace he set as he ground me against him coiled something deep inside me, twisting up a knot of desire so fierce it felt as necessary as breathing. Even if I wanted to stop him now, I couldn't. Instead, I found myself fighting down moans as heat burned through me. He rolled his hips against me, thudding me back into the door again and again. I felt his erection then, thrusting against my abdomen. What would it feel like to have him inside me? What would it be like to have this man naked between my thighs, poised over my body, pounding relentlessly into me?

The thought sent me over the edge and triggered an orgasm I hadn't even realized was building. I cried out loudly, indecently, shocked. Pleasure soared through me and my toes curled in my boots as he worked me over his muscled thigh, forcing every last bit of sensation through my body, drawing it out until I finally went limp in his arms.

It could have been an eternity later when he finally he set me back on my feet. He chuckled softly when my legs refused to support my weight. I found my forehead against his shoulder and my arms loosely about his waist as I gradually caught my breath. Gods, what had I just done? Worse, what was I going to say to Roy?

As if he could read my thoughts, Petriv pulled away entirely and left me to stand on my own. With quick, efficient movements, he re-buttoned my blouse, tucked it back into my skirt, and smoothed my skirt down over my hips. As for him, aside from the hair I'd mussed and his straining erection, he looked utterly unfazed. I frowned. Had I imagined his desire? Had he
not
wanted me? Was he just shutting everything off now?

“You may want to brush your hair before your boyfriend sees you,” he suggested. Then he ran his thumb along my bottom lip. It was slowly and carefully done, as if to make the sensation last. Even when he finished, it seemed I could still feel his touch on my lips. “Also, you'll want to reapply your makeup.”

He then reached behind me and I heard the click of the door unlocking. It sounded like a gunshot, and I jumped. I felt a rush of cool air from the hall and shivered as it met my skin.

“Why did you do that to me?” I whispered, my cheeks still flushed with heat. “What was the point?”

His face was impassive. “Because I had to know if you were truly his. I needed to know how strong his hold was over you.”

What?
“And what did you find out?”

“That there is very little standing in my way.”

Confused, I backed away through the open door. The blond chain-breaker was there, looking impassive and intimidating, still wearing wraparound shades.

Petriv looked down at me. “Until tomorrow, Ms. Sevigny.” Then he turned away and closed the door behind him.

I blinked, stunned, and let out the breath I'd been holding. What the hell had just happened? I felt like Petriv had played my mind just as thoroughly as he had my body. Spooked, I went where the chain-breaker pointed—down the hallway, through the restaurant, and to the flight-limo. The chain-breaker tucked me inside before closing the door, which locked automatically. Immediately, we took flight. I hadn't seen the pilot. Was he another one of Petriv's ubiquitous and indistinguishable bodyguards? Maybe they were ordered from a genetics company specializing in crime lord muscle, packed to overflowing with whatever MH Factor they needed.

I spent the first five minutes of the ride trying to catch my breath and calm myself down. Then I pawed through my purse and pulled out my makeup bag. Yep, I looked like I'd been thoroughly fucked, though technically that wasn't the case. Still, it was close enough that guilt racked me. What would I tell Roy? Nothing, obviously. How could I when in those moments, Petriv's lips and hands on me were the only things in the world I'd ever wanted that much? I'd have to keep my mouth shut and live with the guilt. But how would I be able to face Petriv again? What was I supposed to do when I saw him next? How the fuck was I supposed to have a normal conversation with the man after this?

“Nothing,” I said aloud, mostly just to hear myself talk. “I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to pretend it didn't happen and ignore the whole thing.” And if that wasn't the smartest course of action, I'd come up with something else later. Right now, my brilliance had clearly short-circuited.

It didn't take me long to find the button that worked Petriv's little drink cart. A shot of Jack later, my nerves were calm enough to allow me to think about something other than Petriv. My thoughts drifted to my mother. Wonderful. It seemed like my head was a veritable minefield of dangerous topics today.

When I was younger, I'd romanticized my parents' tragic relationship. As I grew older, I still clung to the fantasy I'd created because I had nothing to replace it with. Now I had part of the truth and I couldn't decide if I was angry or scared at the prospect of learning more.

I tapped my c-tex bracelet before I could start brooding. Time to deal with reality. I looked around the flight-limo and peered out the window at the buildings below as the shim sent out the ping to launch a face-chat. The shim connected before finishing its first flicker.

“Felicia, is that you? Where the fuck have you been?”

I braced myself. “Hi, Charlie. Sorry, I haven't been in touch. It's been…crazy.”

“Goddamn right you're sorry!” His baritone filled the flight-limo. I hastily detached the earpiece hidden in one of the bracelet's jewels and popped it in. “I'd fire your sorry ass if we weren't business partners. You didn't message. Didn't shim. Hell, you didn't even leave a goddamn note! What the fuck's wrong with you? Natty's been cancelling all your appointments, making up lies to cover your disappearance, and we've lost a goddamn fortune! What happened? Are you okay, kid?”

“Calm down and I'll explain.”

“Damn right you'll explain. You've got one minute to tell me what happened before I tear you a new one.”

That was Charlie Zero, my business partner. When we first met, he'd terrified me. Now the rants just showed how much he cared. We'd met in Career Design—a program every teenager in the tri-system completed per One Gov decree. To avoid high unemployment, we all went through the two-year stint in Career Design where our aptitudes were tested, our career paths decided, basic training provided, then we were launched into whatever our new future was supposed to be. I'd already had plans to be a Tarot card reader, so Career Design had been a waste of time. Charlie Zero—not his real name—was determined to be his own man and get off the Nairobi streets. We formed a friendship that blossomed into a business. I don't know what drew me to him other than my gut feeling. It had never been romantic, at least not from my side, although I tried for curiosity's sake. When I told him it wasn't working, he'd been angry until he remembered there was money to be made. There was nothing Charlie Zero loved more than money.

I focused on the grainy face-chat image on the c-tex holo-display pop-up and got ready to flat out lie to my business partner. Like Roy, he hated using such antiquated tech, although he complained less. All I could see was his shock of blond hair standing out in high contrast to his ebony skin. “I have a new client who wants total privacy. He came into the office yesterday morning right before closing and paid ten thousand gold notes for a reading. He's asked for my services for the next two weeks. I agreed.”

“You're good, kid, but not ten thousand gold notes good. Did you fuck him too?”

Thank the gods the image was too poor for him to see my blush. “Gods, Charlie! Don't be a pig! I didn't fuck anyone. If you were anyone else, I'd end this shim right now.”

“Hey, just asking. I know what you're like, remember? I've never seen anyone flow with the tide as easy as you and still come out ahead. How much is he paying?”

Charlie was coming so close to the truth, it was all I could do not to squirm uncomfortably in my seat. “He says he'll cover all expenses for the next two weeks, shop overhead included.”

Charlie whistled. “My kind of client.”

“I thought so. Crunch some numbers for the next two weeks, have Natty invoice it and dump it in the CN-net protocol at the shop. I'll present it to him tomorrow. Tell Natty she gets two weeks paid vacation. She can go on her Arctic cruise while you check out that lunar golf course you're always blathering about.”

“Nice idea, but I'd have to turn the hell back around by the time I got there. Listen, kid”—he leaned closer to the screen as if that might make his words more significant—“this client's got you worked up. I can see that even through this shitty shim. Don't suppose you'll tell me who it is.”

Worked up how,
I almost blurted, as if to deny I'd almost had sex in a restaurant less than ten minutes ago. “I have a feeling I should keep quiet on this one.”

Charlie nodded. “Suspected as much. If you got someone powerful interested in you and he's moving this fast, be careful. You don't want to end up collateral damage.”

“Fast” was exactly the right word. I shivered, understanding his meaning all too well. And with Petriv, I had no idea how it would all go down. My gut said one thing, but my head said something else entirely. Odd how often the two couldn't agree.

He was silent for a moment, looking off into the distance. People got like that when they were pinged by the CN-net with some kind of hookup or message. He looked back to me, his expression grave. “That was Natty. Told her you were okay. She says thanks for the vacay. Also, two burly dudes came in today looking for you. They asked a few questions then left. Freaked her out.”

I frowned. “Did she say if they were Russian?”

“No. Dark suits. Fair skin. Dark hair. Spoke English with odd accents. Clean cut. Could be One Gov. Could be anything. Just looked like muscle.” He eyed me shrewdly. “The Russians will mess you up, kid. They'll smile to your face and stab you when you're looking the other way. If your new client is Russian, I'm tempted to tell you to stay away and forget the money.”

“Too late. I'm already committed and I have to see this through. Listen, I'm on my way home to get some sleep and pack, then I'm off to Denver tomorrow.”

“The auction? I thought you said you couldn't—”

“The client wants me there, so I'm going. All I need to do is bring the cards. Can you ask Natty to grab my deck from the shop and drop it off at my place before she disappears?”

“Last time I checked, your papers weren't in order.”

“The client will take care of it.”

“You know that means forgeries, right? To get good ones quick enough that'll let you travel tomorrow takes big money. Plus, you mentioned Russians…” He whistled. “Kid, you in with the Tsarist Consortium?”

I'd always admired his cleverness. Now it annoyed me. “Lay off, Charlie. I've had a rough couple of days.”

“Don't take it out on me, kid. Who sat by you when everything blasted down shit creek? Who helped when your dad bailed, your great-grandmother died, and that fucker Dante shit all over you and left without a backward look? You know I always got your back.”

“I'm sorry. You're right. I'm an ungrateful bitch and don't appreciate you.” I sighed and tried to smile. “When this is over, I'll give you every detail I can. And just think how much richer we'll be.”

Charlie shook his head. His rueful look translated perfectly despite the terrible connection. “Alright, kid. I'll leave it for now. Gold notes are my best friends. But one last thing: Roy's been out of his mind looking for you. I've gotten two dozen pings from him since you vanished. What're you going to say? I know your quirks and I let them go for my own mental health. Plus, it makes us rich. Roy's different. He's got cop-brain. You got a fish on the hook and it's moving fast. I know how much you want to land it, and how far you'll go to do it. It's part of your charm, but watch yourself. Think first, before you get tangled in your own net.”

“Too many fishing metaphors, but I get it. Thanks, Charlie. You're a good friend.”

“Best you'll ever have. Peace.” He broke the connection.

I fought not to sigh again, but Charlie was right. Everything was happening faster than I could think. My decisions were always based on pure feeling and limited common sense. And with Petriv, I suspected I was using less common sense than normal. In Charlie's mind, that was not a good thing. I cared about his opinion, but not enough to let it stop me.

The sensation of descending hit me, sending my stomach fluttering. I looked out the window. Below, or rather rising fast, was my apartment complex. It was a new development in Karen division, all pretty and modern with sleek high-rises soaring to incredible heights, surrounded by landscaping, parks, and waterways. It also had easy Y-Line platform access thanks to a series of jump-steps passing by the condo. Better still, no graffiti or gang signs in this part of Nairobi.

The chain-breaker opened my door and I climbed out. I turned to thank him, but he'd already nodded his head and returned to the cockpit. The flight-limo took off the moment I'd cleared enough space. I bet Petriv didn't get dumped like that.

Standing alone on the sidewalk, I could almost believe the past two days hadn't happened—even if the tenderness between my legs said otherwise. I slogged my way up the sidewalk, fishing for the pass codes on my c-tex to show I was a condo resident. Dread hit as each footstep brought me closer to the door. Dread, and guilt enough to drown me. I should have told Roy about the clinic and my plans with Mr. Pennyworth. Hell, I should have told him about my blacklisted status right from the start. Sadly, I was too deep into the lies to stop now.