2. Vesper #2
“What was that about?” I whisper to Dox as we move past him.
“No idea,” she admits, wincing. “It’s an unusual reaction.”
When the gates open for us, we pass through.
I follow Dox because she seems to know where we’re going.
It’s been a year since I’ve done a job for this gang, and everything looks different to me now.
But Dox seems to know what’s going on, so I follow her through the roughly built fortress until we reach a large room.
There’s a massive chair built from old parts at the front, sitting on top of a raised step.
It’s a throne, as if Orion is a king. I suppose the leader of the Black Spur Union is as close to a king as one can get here in Dross.
“Ladies!” he says as we step into the room, opening his arms wide. “Welcome. You came faster than expected. Good.”
Dox stops in front of him and puts her hand on her hip, leveling him with her gaze. “What is it you’re lookin’ to hire us for, Orion?”
“Straight to the point as always,” Orion replies, grinning. “I like it. Very well. We have need of a courier service, as stated on the job request.”
I watch him carefully. “And what’s the cargo?”
Orion finally levels his gaze on me, something flashing in his eyes that makes me nauseous. “Vesper. It’s good to see you. What’s it been? A—”
“Cut the pleasantries, O,” I grunt. “What’s the cargo?”
A muscle jumps in his jaw. Once upon a time, Orion and I had a thing before I realized how stupid it was to sleep with the leader of one of the most powerful gangs in Dross.
I’m lucky. I was able to break it off without incident.
But I’m very much aware that it was only because Orion let me walk away.
His fingers steeple together like I unnerve him. Good. I hope it fucks with his head that I don’t want him. He deserves no less.
“Very well,” he says, his eyes staying on me.
He gestures with his hand toward a door on the side and they open. A woman comes stumbling inside when she’s pushed from behind. Her eyes are wide and she frantically looks around, as if searching for allies. She won’t find any in this place.
In her arms is a baby, brand new, pristine, and untainted yet by the horrors of Dross.
Dox tenses, but there’s no other outward sign of her reaction. Me? Not so much.
“A baby?” I scowl, jerking my gaze back to Orion. “You want us to deliver an infant?”
“Don’t act so horrified, V. You’ve done worse to survive,” Orion goads.
It takes everything in me to keep the heat from my cheeks, because he’s right.
I’ve done terrible things to survive. I’ve taken food out of the mouths of children.
But that doesn’t mean I want to do something like this.
I did those things when there were no other options. I don’t have to do them now.
“And where is the infant to be delivered to?” Dox asks carefully, her eyes flicking between me and the mother. “And what is the payment?”
I whip my head toward her. “We’re not seriously considering this, are we?” I hiss under my breath.
She doesn’t answer. Not yet. Because she’s doing what we always do. Weigh all the options.
Orion smirks. “The child will be delivered to an Ascendant courier where it will then be delivered to Luxe.”
The mother’s eyes widen. “What?” she gasps. “You told me he would have a better life!”
“And he will,” Orion nods. “Anything away from Dross is better.”
Except . . . there have been rumors for years about why Luxe would want children. Rumors about why they’re willing to pay so well for them. And none of them are good. Clearly, the mother has heard those rumors, too.
Orion leans forward. “The pay is a basket of fruit.”
Dox’s eyes widen and she looks at me. “A whole basket? How many pieces?”
Orion gestures and a man comes from the back of the room with a basket overflowing with fruit. Unmarred, unbruised, and perfect. They’ll last longer than a day with them as fresh as they are. My mouth waters when I see the oranges and apples. And is that—
“Is that a banana?” Dox rasps, staring at the basket.
Orion nods. “One of three our tree was able to produce.”
Dox’s eyes narrow. “Why such a high payment?”
“The purchaser is . . . motivated,” Orion offers as explanation. “Will you accept?”
Dox looks over at me and sees my expression, and she knows exactly what I’m going to say.
“We don’t move that sort of cargo,” I reply, tilting my chin up. “Not usually.”
“Please,” the mother starts to beg. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to sell him. I’ll give you your money back.”
Orion levels her with his hard stare. “The price has gone up actually. I’m being paid thirty credits for him. Are you willing to pay that?”
The mother’s eyes bug. “Thi-Thirty credits?” she gasps. “How could I . . . how would I ever be able to find that sort of money?”
“Then there’s no deal, I’m afraid,” Orion muses.
The mother starts to cry, her arms wrapped around her child protectively as the men move in. “No! Please! Don’t you have a heart? He’s just a baby!”
“That’s your mistake,” Orion says. “Thinking that anyone in this hellhole has a heart.”
My chest throbs at the scene of a mother desperate to keep her baby safe. So desperate, that she sold him thinking he would go to someone with more resources. I’ve seen this desperation time and time again. I’m no longer sensitive to it.
So why does it bother me so much now?
Dox presses closer to me, trying her hardest to keep herself together. She’s the bleeding heart between us. It doesn’t surprise me that she’s so bothered.
I clear my throat. “What I meant to say is that we don’t move cargo like this for anything less than a basket of fresh fruit and three credits.”
Dox jerks her head toward me in surprise. “What?” she whispers.
Orion laughs. “Anyone else would jump at the basket.”
“We’re not anyone else,” I remind him. “That’s why you’re trying to hire us.”
He raises his brow. “Touché, V.” He grins. “You know, I’ve really missed you.”
“I bet you have,” I grumble under my breath, but toward him, I smile. I don’t take the bait, but I don’t rebuff him. “Where’s the meeting point?”
He stands and steps down from his throne, trailing over toward me slowly.
I don’t tense, or show any sign of discomfort as he stops in front of me and reaches out toward my long black hair.
His gaze heats and my stomach roils. I don’t know how I ever found him attractive.
There’s too much brutality in his features, too much hatred.
He might as well be another broken machine sitting on his throne of broken machines.
“District four,” he finally responds. “Payment up front to assure delivery.” He leans closer. “When you finish, come back. I’m taking you on a date.”
“And if I say no?” I ask, staring at him.
He smirks. “Don’t say no, V.” He chucks me on the chin. “See you soon.”
With a snap of his fingers, the mother is shoved toward us, her frantic crying tugging at my heart strings.
When she hesitates to hand the baby over to me, one of the guards pulls out a blade made of recycled steel sharpened to a point.
Understanding she’s about to die, she shakingly passes the baby into my arms, her tears falling silently. I take him gently.
“Walk with me,” I order her. “I’ll give you a chance to say good bye.”
She starts to cry harder as Dox picks up the basket of fruit and the three credits before following me and the mother out the gate.
I jerk my head toward the nearest alleyway.
The mother stumbles after us into the alley, her words garbled together as she sobs.
The moment we’re away from the gates, Dox drops to the ground and pulls her makeshift pack from her back. She starts shoving the fruit inside.
“Are we doing what I think we’re doing?” she asks me harshly.
“Yeah,” I answer, checking to make sure we weren’t followed before turning to the blubbering mother. “Stop that,” I order, grabbing her hand. “I need you to listen to me right now.”
She croaks and shoves her cries down, hiccupping with her emotions. She still sniffles and makes little gasping sounds, but it’s enough.