48. Vesper
VESPER
We haven’t been talking. We left the Rune Stock Exchange and immediately started heading for the next safehouse. We’d been inside the Stock Exchange for most of the day, evidenced by the setting sun, so the city is awash in warm light.
It almost reminds me of home.
But being in this city where the buildings are whole and working, where people look healthy and somewhat happy, the similarities end at the brief wash of red.
Havoc hasn’t directed us where to go. He’s just been this silent, constant presence that offers barely anything, least of all conversation. I’m starting to regret inviting him along. Even Stevie, with his intimidating aura and sometimes annoying accent, is better company.
Walking along the streets of New Babel silently is strange.
Though the day is ending, the city lights up with electricity and life.
People bustle to and fro in the streets, off to their business despite the late hour.
The mechanical boxes people ride in seem to grow even more frequent in the streets, their annoying horns beeping at each other, men hanging out the windows shaking their fists at other boxes.
Angry. Everyone is always angry in the boxes.
Seems like it would be something that should make you happy but maybe the act of going so fast is what makes them angry.
The buildings part after we’ve been walking for an hour and reveal a wide, brown river, rushing alongside the city.
“Looks like we should follow this river to find the safehouse,” Locke says, always the navigator.
His tone is still pinched. He hadn’t been affected by the battle with the Wolf of Wall Street at first, but ultimately, he’d gotten angry.
Angry at the symbolism of it. Angry that nothing has changed for humanity. The rich are still eating the poor.
I have a terrible sense of direction so I’m glad Locke seems to be better about it.
Dox was also the explorer in our friendship.
She’s always the brains, the creativity.
I was the muscle and the know-how. We operated well.
Part of me is grateful that Locke is able to temporarily fill that space or else we’d be constantly walking in circles.
Just like in the sewers.
I wasn’t made to follow maps, and that will be my weakness at some point. If something ever happens to Locke . . .
I glance at Havoc, my expression dour despite the lessening distance to the safehouse.
Every time I look at him, I think of how he stood at the back of the Stock Exchange.
He’d only stepped in when it came to the fight, and only when it felt like he could rub it in our faces, though he hasn’t really.
He’d left me to the ticker tapes while they’d finished the fight, and while part of me understands it was better to finish the fight, the other part remembers the feeling of the papers wrapping around me, of Svetlana desperately trying to cut me out.
His ego is going to be a source of contempt between us.
I shouldn’t be surprised that a legend has an ego the size of his myth, but somehow, I am.
Perhaps, that’s a mistake I shouldn’t make again.
Perhaps there’s a reason Luxe chose him as their poster boy.
Locke walks at my side, ever present. Svetlana alternates between standing on my shoulder and flying around us on fluttering wings, a feat that freaks Locke out every time she does it.
Stevie is mostly silent as he floats in front of us except for a bright exclamation when someone is wearing something he likes.
We’re all grouped together, all clearly some sort of team, and then there’s Havoc, walking ten paces behind us.
As if he can’t stand to be near me.
“The safehouse is just up ahead,” Locke grumbles, gesturing to what looks like a strange bit of street jutting into the river.
It’s like the street was built over the water and buildings placed on top of it.
There’s one taller building with the words “Half-Moon Hotel” lit up on the side of it.
There are also structures I don’t recognize, like a massive turning wheel with little boxes hanging from it.
There are lights all around it, and the words “Wonder Wheel” flash and flicker.
There is another large wooden track built up around the area, a link of boxes like a worm speeding around them.
There are people riding in the boxes, their arms up in the air, screaming in delight.
A variety of smaller buildings pepper the area as well, large signs directing everyone to purchase different foods or items. It’s loud, louder even than the Rune Stock Exchange, the sounds of excited people reaching our ears even as far away as we are.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, taking it all in.
The bright lights flicker and dance, beckoning us forward, demanding we join in the fun.
I’ve never seen something with so much happiness surrounding it.
Nothing like this exists in Dross. I’m willing to bet there aren’t many places even in the Harrow like this.
Havoc scoffs behind us at my words, as if my admiration is ridiculous.
I stop walking suddenly, my annoyance getting the better of me.
First, he’d made us wait around for him back in the Speakeasy Sprawl.
Then he’d pulled that shit in the Rune Stock Exchange.
And now here he is, shitting on something else.
My face twists in anger and I whirl on him, making everyone else stop and stare at me in surprise.
“How about you fuck off?” I growl, crossing my arms.
He raises his brows. “First you beg me to join you. Now you’re trying to send me away?”
I narrow my eyes. “No one was begging, Warden.”
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
“You know what?” I hiss.
“What?”
“I’m already sick of your shit.” I take a step closer. “You stomp around with this grumpy ass attitude. You complain about everything. You treat us like idiots. And then there was that bullshit back at the Rune Stock Exchange!”
He watches me closely. “And what bullshit is that?”
“You could have told us from the beginning what the game was,” I say. “You let us stumble around like idiots—”
“I’m not handing you all the answers,” Havoc growls back. “I’ve already defeated that boss, multiple times, and I did it by paying attention. If you can’t handle something as simple as the Wolf of Wall Street, you’re not going to make it much longer in the Harrow.”
“We could have fucking died,” Locke growls, finally letting his own annoyance out.
“Because you use your strength rather than your brains,” Havoc fired back. “Though I don’t expect much intelligence from a Bone Breaker. If not for Vesper, you’d have been fucked.”
Locke bristles and steps up beside me. “What’s your problem with Bone Breakers?” he snarls.
Havoc takes another step closer to Locke, putting them less than a meter apart as they bristle larger and larger. “Other than them all being bone heads?” Havoc goads.
My annoyance fizzles out at the genuine anger between these two, at the clear insult Havoc had just thrown at Locke. Of course. Of course, it’s going to turn into a cock measuring contest when there’s men around. This was about being a good team, and now it’s about who can look bigger.
Svetlana tickles my ear. “This is going to be good,” she giggles, watching it all play out, but I don’t enjoy the drama the way she does. Instead, watching them go toe-to-toe drains me.
Am I going to have to resort to babysitting these men’s egos the whole time?
“Fuck you,” Locke growls dangerously.
“You’re not my type,” Havoc responds, smooth as can be.
Locke jabs a finger in my direction. “Oh, but she is, I bet!” he spits. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You wanna fuck her?”
I roll my eyes. “I should have known this would turn into a pissing contest,” I tell Svetlana.
“You are a queen,” she responds. “Queens deserve knights who fight for their favor. They are just paying their tax.”
I snort and toss a smile to the praying mantis on my shoulder. When she puts it that way . . .
“Don’t pretend you’re here for anything different,” Havoc accuses.
“It’s beneficial,” Locke argues. “We’ve been together since we entered this shithole!”
“Bone Breakers don’t form relationships like this,” Havoc points out.
“And why the fuck not?” Locke yells back.
“Because you’re going to get her killed!” Havoc snarls, getting in Locke’s face. “Or worse, you’ll be the one to kill her yourself!”
Locke blinks and takes a quick step back, confused. “Why would I do that?”
Havoc spins toward me. “How many times has Cipher warned you about Locke?”
Locke turns to me expectantly. He knows that Cipher doesn’t like him, but . . . I haven’t mentioned the warnings. Mostly because it doesn’t matter.
“I make my own decisions,” I say.
Locke sucks in a heavy breath. “So, the fucking machine is constantly telling you to stay away from me?” he asks. “Not just talking trash?”
“It doesn’t matter—” I growl.
“You should listen to Cipher,” Havoc interrupts. “He’s not warning you because it’s fun. Bone Breakers have a reputation.”
“That no one wants to fucking explain!” I snarl. “Everyone keeps warning me against Locke, but no one wants to say why!”
Havoc straightens. “It’s not my place to—”
“Oh, fuck you,” I snarl. “Fuck both of you. All of you. You, too, Cipher!” I add to the sky like that’s where he is.
I turn and storm off in the direction of the safehouse, leaving the two men to stare at each other, tired of everyone’s bullshit.
My regret for inviting Havoc grows bigger. I should have just left it alone. We had a good thing going, and now Havoc is going to mess everything up.
Fucking men.