Wicked Attraction Read online

  Still, she’d left a few hours ago, and although he’d asked her to ping when she arrived, he hadn’t yet heard from her. He hoped that meant things were going well. To keep himself occupied, he settled onto the couch with his tablet to go over the apprentice proposals that had accumulated over the past week or so.

  Not surprisingly, Betts had come up with something interesting, a tag-on to the project that had been keeping her busy for the past half a year or so. It wouldn’t require many new resources. Approved. He approved the next few from the other kids, too, even if with nothing more than a quick glance Ewan could tell that none of them were going to work. They needed encouragement now to keep working in the aftermath of the fire that had destroyed their lab. A few of the apprentices had quit to pursue other career paths, and he wanted to be sure to give the ones who’d stayed a reason to keep working.

  By the time he got to the final entry in the portal, he was already half-expecting to simply approve it. What he saw stopped him cold with his finger already hovering over the yes button. This last proposal was from Jordie, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, as he’d been so adamant about continuing to keep up with his work.

  The surprise was the content of the proposal.

  Ewan had read it quickly, then again when he had to convince himself that what he’d seen was true. Stomach twisting, throat closing, he ran his fingertip over the tablet’s surface to scroll upward. The time stamp on the proposal was from only an hour or so before . . . shortly after Nina had left the house, as a matter of fact.

  Jordie, as always, had been completely thorough in his proposal. He’d included the requested resources, along with access permissions. Photographs. Diagrams. Projected expenses. This time, he’d also included a video letter.

  The kid grinned, looking calmer than he had the past few times Ewan had seen him. No twitching. Eyes clear. If he was still on the candy, he wasn’t showing signs of it.

  “Hey, Mr. Donahue. First of all, my mother always told me to be grateful for my blessings, so I wanted to point out to how grateful I am that you gave me a chance to work as your apprentice. Without you, I’m not sure what I’d be doing. Well, I guess I do know what I’d be doing without you, and that would be working on this new tech. See,” Jordie leaned forward conspiratorially toward the camera, “you and I both know that it could make a world of difference. The problem is, Mr. Donahue, you’re all hung up on what you think is right versus wrong.”

  The kid made air quotes, actual air quotes, and a thin, hot rise of anger moved through Ewan’s chest and up to his throat.

  “But here’s the thing. You and I both know there is no such thing as right versus wrong anymore. Not in today’s society, not in a place where people . . .” Jordie broke off with a harsh, barking laugh. “You know, people, they pay to change the color of their eyes and implant sparkling lights in their teeth, and that’s just for fashion. Imagine, Mr. Donahue, if you will . . .”

  Jordie paused again, his gaze going slightly blank as he spread his fingers apart and moved his hand in front of him as though gesturing across a vast expanse.

  “Imagine a world where you could not simply forget your bad memories, but provide yourself with brand new ones. Think of how wonderful it would be to relive your favorite moments over and over again, while you can also block out the bad ones from ever coming up again. Complete control over your reality, and not in the way they do it with virtual programs.”

  Jordie’s smile went stiff. He leaned toward the camera again. His head tilted as though he could look through the lens and see Ewan on the other side.

  “Right about now, Mr. Donahue, you’re thumbing in my number. Aren’t you?”

  Ewan had been swiping his fingertips across the tablet screen, trying to pull up Jordie’s contact information. Every time he tried, he got an error. With a grunt of frustration, he swiped again.

  “All it takes is a transfer of funds, Mr. Donahue. A small token of your interest in keeping this conversation going. And I’d suggest you make that transfer,” Jordie said as a number popped up on the bottom of the viddy, a clickable link with an amount attached to it. “You won’t like what’s going to happen if you don’t.”

  * * *

  Nina woke with a start, realizing at once that she’d dozed but surprised at how deeply she’d been dreaming. The transpo’s voice had woken her, but she had to blink hard for a moment or two to come fully out of sleep. The address Patrice had given Nina turned out not to be the casual restaurant where she’d said they would meet. The transpo had pulled up in front of a small block of identical homes, each surrounded by a metal fence and bare, scrubby yards littered with garbage. This was not Patrice’s house, not unless her sister had fallen on much harder times than she’d led Nina to believe.

  That would explain Nina’s feeling that Patrice wanted to ask for money, and maybe even why she’d insisted on Nina coming to see her in person. It might be a way to get sympathy, Nina thought with a frown as she studied the surroundings. Like she’d be more amenable to doling out some cash if her sister was living the low life.

  The pieces fit, and yet none of this was making sense.

  “Wait,” Nina told the transpo as she got out, trying to find a sign that she was at the right place. “Hold on until I confirm this.”

  She thumbed a message on her personal comm, but Patrice didn’t read it immediately. Waiting for the small D for delivered to become an R for read, Nina looked for a house number, a street sign. Anything that would identify her location. There was nothing.

  With an irritated sigh, she got back into the transpo and tapped in the address she’d carefully transcribed from the message her sister had sent. The transpo informed her that she had already arrived at her destination.

  “Additional charges will accrue,” the transpo said. “Approve additional idle time.”

  Nina didn’t care so much about the additional cost, but she didn’t want to be stranded out here. Transpos were built to ride on the magrails and then convert to regular roadways, but they didn’t service every location. The last bit of this ride had been on streets scattered with deep potholes and rough pavement. It was entirely possible that while she’d been able to get dropped off here, there wouldn’t be a transpo available to get her home.

  Just before she was about to give up, a message pinged in from Patrice.

  I SEE YOU. COME INSIDE

  Nina looked again toward the row of shabby houses. She returned with a voice message. “The blue one?”

  YES THE BLUE HOUSE COME INSIDE

  Nina was dismissing the transpo when the next message pinged in.

  YOUR LATE

  NOW

  Nina shook her head and stepped away so the transpo could pull away. Her sister seemed to have the same old attitude. Nina faced the blue house, her comm in her fist. Another wash of anxiety tickled the pit of her stomach and the back of her neck. She glanced at the sky with its gray clouds and a distant sun. The heat had risen in the few minutes she stood there in the open. She was thirsty.

  She smoothed her blouse and skirt, wishing for a moment that she’d worn her accustomed outfit of leggings and a long-sleeved top. Of course she’d chosen not to wear her harness and gear to visit Patrice, because that would’ve been an even worse reminder of what and who she’d become than if she’d shown up in fatigues. She had a small knife tucked into the waistband of her skirt, though. Another in her ankle boot. And she always had herself, her skills, her strength. Her determination.

  She’d always prided herself on making sure her clients were kept safe because she was there to keep them that way. Part of that had been awareness of more than obvious dangers. Watching for the unexpected. Most importantly, reacting immediately to any threat.

  Her hand went automatically to her waist as the front door of the blue house opened. Nina tensed, ready to fight if she saw anything alarming but letting out a sigh at the sight of Patrice’s familiar face.

  “You should come inside,”