Chapter Six, Denied #2
Hours later, in the middle of a desert I had no patience to be in, two punks tried to stop me at the gate of where I needed to go.
Two Red Diamond guards with matching Russian accents and bad attitudes moved to block the drive, hands twitching toward weapons they had no business pulling.
“Who the fuck are you?” One asked as he pushed a pair of dark glasses up his nose and frowned. “We aren’t expecting visitors.”
I considered killing them. Not for long. Just the amount of time it took to calculate how many seconds it would take, how many bullets I had, and whether Heaven would be mad about the mess I’d made at her sort of friend’s home.
I knew she’d tell me we couldn’t be mean to the staff—it wasn’t their fault they were guarding their queen’s temporary castle and making me waste even more time in this bland, un-murdery plan.
So instead of carving a lesson into their chests, I smiled up at the security camera perched on the gate and waved.
“Tell your overlord that I’m here for a meeting.” I drawled. “And tell him to answer in the next thirty seconds unless he wants me to start a fire at his house.”
I wasn’t a fan of arson. It didn’t excite me like other things did. But I figured I had to give Beau a reason not to take his sweet time granting me access to his ostentatious vacation home.
A voice crackled through one of their earpieces.
“Let him through, Daniil. Beau said it’s fine.” The guard on the left stepped aside. The one on the right hesitated, then followed. I walked through, clapping each of them on the shoulder as I passed.
“Appreciate it, boys.” It amused me to see them scowl, even if I once more debated killing them.
Only a little bit dead. Softly. With a smile underneath my ghost mask.
The temporary Montana mansion looked like old money. It reeked of wealth and blood that made me curl my lip as I walked over the freshly manicured lawn with a keep off sign. Too bright for the unnatural heat outside.
The large double front doors opened before I reached them. A far too pale creature leaned in the doorway wearing a red beach wrap over a black bikini, and a pair of glittering heels that made her eye-level with me. Which was impressive considering she was five-foot-two.
“Well, butter my biscuits and call me breakfast,” she said, grinning.
Then she paused, eyes scanning my face. “You’re a pretty little monster, aren’t ya’?
Now I get why Heaven went and lost her damn mind by runnin’ off with you.
If you were a decade older, I’d eat you up and lick the damn plate clean. ”
“Ruby,” I grinned at my sweet paradise’s friend. “Nice to meet you properly. You’re taller than you look on camera.”
My tiredness made me forget to be normal for a moment. Or care about the fact that watching people on a camera was wrong to other humans.
Boring humans, but still.
“That’d be my new pretty heels and hair,” she said, twirling one foot and stepping back. “And you’re skinnier than I expected. Thought you’d be built like a frickin’ tank with all the murder in your eyes. But I reckon I could take ya’ in an arm wrestle.”
“Fast metabolism.” I deadpanned.
She waved me inside. “Beau’s too busy pulling the stick outta his ass to answer the door, but he said I could let you inside, and asked if Reaper was dead yet.”
My head cocked as I wiped my boots on the doormat. “He sat on a stick?”
She shrugged. “I think so. Would explain a lot.”
I snorted. “I don’t really need Beau. I just need a Montana who can lend me a plane—and no, Reaper isn’t dead yet. I’m not that bad at my job.”
“And what job is that exactly?” Ruby looked me up and down, seeing all my weapons.
“Heaven left our friend Lola a letter telling us all about you in case she died on her revenge mission. But I don’t know if stalker is a paid position.
Or just how much you toe the line between creepy bastard and sweetie pie that kept her safe and happy. ”
A sharp voice sliced through the air behind us before I could reply, Russian accent thick enough to interest me. “Who the fuck are you?”
I turned to the new arrival without reaching for my knife to teach her some manners. She was tall, slender and a bundle of scowling green eyes and braided blonde hair. She looked like she had been carved from frozen marble and filled with gasoline.
She reminded me of myself a little that way. It would have been sweet if not for the fact it made me edgy.
“Yeva, this is Atlas,” Ruby said before I could answer. “Beau’s… friend. Atlas, this is Yeva Montana.”
Yeva stared at me like I was a cockroach in her kitchen. I didn’t blame her. She had a kind of hate behind her eyes that didn’t come from nowhere.
Switching to Russian, I asked the question that first popped into my mind. “Did you belong to The Company? You have that darkness in your eyes they’re brilliant at carving into you.”
Her glare hardened as she spat, “I belong to nobody.”
My gaze slid over her, noting the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw locked like it had to hold back words sharper than knives.
I took a small step back, not out of fear.
Out of recognition. I knew that kind of rage, and I was nice enough to give her some space so she might have felt more comfortable.
Then I saw it. The tattoo. A small pomegranate inked on the inside of her wrist. I knew what that meant. Knew why she was edging for the knife strapped to her thigh.
I took another few steps back, once more showing restraint as I treated her with care, rather than with violence.
“Ah. Not my kind of monster. Just another one, broken differently.” I hummed. “I’m not your enemy, Yeva. I’m just here for a favor from a Montana.”
“I’m not doing favors for men,” she snapped. “Let the door hit you on the way out.”
She turned and walked off, shoes clicking, muttering something in Russian I decided not to translate with the sweet present company.
Ruby sighed, clearly understanding how our conversation had gone even if she didn’t speak Russian. “Yeva’s a nice girl. She’s just… mad. At a lot of things. And people.”
“I’d be worse,” I replied honestly. “If I’d lived through what she did.”
Ruby froze for a moment and then nodded before she motioned toward the nearby lounge. “Settle a minute. I’ll deal with her. Then you can ask your favor. I’ll convince Beau to play nice for a few minutes.”
“Sure, I appreciate it.” I didn’t move from the doorway.
There was no need to make pretend pleasantries or act like I was here for afternoon tea.
I wanted a plane; they had multiple. Beau and Reaper were sort of friends, so he knew me well enough to know who I was and what I was doing. That was all.
Then I felt a presence to my side and spun on my heel, wondering if perhaps Beau wasn’t as smart as Gio made him out to be and was about to murder me for pissing off his latest daughter.
It wasn’t a rough man’s voice that muttered, “I was stalking you from your car, but you’re not a bad man if you’re friends with Ruby, so now I think I should say sorry—I was going to hit you with my zapper.”
I turned towards the source of the softly spoken Spanish. A tiny girl stood hidden behind a large plant, brown eyes shining in her tawny face. Her long black hair was tied back with a pink ribbon, and she was holding a phone in one hand and a taser in the other.
She looked like Silver. Only smaller. More dangerous, somehow. It made me smile more than the fact she was carrying a weapon most would have thought she was too young for, and had apparently been debating using it on me.
“Hello, tiny human,” I drawled in Spanish, making her smile, and her shoulders relax a little. “Thanks for not zapping me. I don’t enjoy it.”
“I like your skin drawings,” she said seriously. “Who are you?”
“Thanks.” I answered in kind. “Atlas. What’s your name?”
Her smile widened as she stepped closer to me. “I’m Diamond. My other name is Montana. I have two names now. Not zero.”
“Both are good names. Perfect for inciting fear in monster’s hearts.”
“I don’t like monsters,” she declared, as a pair of kittens shot past us, darting between her legs as they chased each other. “They make my tummy hurt.”
“Me too,” I agreed, crouching to her height, even if it was no easy feat. “That’s why I’m here. I need to borrow a plane to fight a monster.”
“What’s a plane?”
“Like a car. But it flies.” There were plenty of cars on the driveway, so I knew she would understand the reference.
Her jaw dropped. “Why not use a zapper or a knife?” She held up her taser. “My best friend Angel gave me this so I wouldn’t use knives anymore. He said zappers are for bad guys; knives are for adults, and I’m not an adult. I’m too small to be one yet.”
Though not normally a fan of being so emotional, I grinned. “Because the weapon I need is far away. I need a plane to get there. But I need permission to borrow a plane so the other adults don’t get mad at me.”
Once more it was Gio’s thoughts, not mine. I would have stolen a plane, perhaps left a note with a smile drawn on it. But he insisted we played nice and asked.
Diamond cocked her head. “What’s permission?”
“It’s when someone says I’m allowed to do something.”
She nodded solemnly. “Consent. Mr Beau says that’s what I call it. Because I don’t consent to yelling or bad men touching me. He says it’s good to say no, and I can do it now all the time. Nobody will be mad at me for saying it.”
I was the slightest bit confused about her words, or why they had been drilled into her that way, but now was not the time to ask questions of a child. Least of all a Montana one I was manipulating into giving me permission to borrow a plane.
“He’s right. Consent is important. So… do I have yours? To use the plane?” I did my best to soften my voice, trying to remain unintimidating. I didn’t want to scare her, and not just because it would have taken up more of my time.
I would have felt bad. She was so small and soft-looking. Like I had once been before I’d rotted from the inside out.
She tapped her chin, thinking. “If you bring me something.”
“Name your price.” I always appreciated a good bargain, especially if it was for something twistedly brilliant.
“Mr Kody’s gone, and no one can make me chocolate cake. If you bring me one, you get consent for the plane.” She slid her taser into the back of her pants.
“I’ll find the biggest one I can.” I promised.
“Big enough to climb?”
“Of course.”
She nodded, satisfied. Then, she held up her phone and snapped a picture of me as she said, “I’ll tell Mr Beau you have consent for the plane.”
“Appreciated.”
She turned and walked off, ponytail bouncing, thumbs already tapping out her message.
With only the slightest satisfaction, and the knowledge I was about to have another long journey to my temporary home, I hurried to make my exit before I had to deal with any adults.
It wasn’t like I could be too mad that this was the slow way. The diplomatic way. The Gio-and-Heaven-won’t-be-mad-at-me way.
I hated it. Thought it was a waste of time. But I did it. Which was a pleasant thought.
Nice because I knew that I didn’t always have to be a monster. Sometimes I could just be… nice. Even to something as gross as children and strangers.