CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #3
Like the air-gapped, no-frills phone he gets for Jules, still in the box. Not tracked, not supervised. It’s the best thing he can give Jules. Freedom and trust, both in small quantities, but still.
Admittedly, for Blaire, he went a little wild.
There’s a jeweller in downtown Varrow City, a tiny little place tucked into the back alleys called Starlings. Lachlan only ends up there after striking out at several other shops, each one eventually directing him to try it instead.
It’s a trapiche emerald necklace, the stone raw on the outside but frontally cut with glassy precision to show the strange hexagonal shape within.
A dark star birthed into the green that matches her eyes almost perfectly.
The stone is set in custom blackened platinum, and the chain is made of the same.
It’s the stone she found and lost in Colombia.
And yes, it cost eighty thousand, but money means nothing and when Blaire opens it, holds it in her hand, he’s smiling just to see the look on her face. How lovely it feels to give someone a gift they’ll treasure.
Lachlan can’t stay long in that glorious mess of paper and gifts, Christmassy music playing while Vasily reads Mimi one of his new books and Jules sits in the corner chair, setting up his new phone.
He has to get back but as he heads for the door, Mimi runs over. ‘Daddy, wait! We got presents for you.’
‘For me?’
‘Yeah, come on.’ She determinedly leads him back to the big tree in the den, fishing out three small gifts from the back. ‘Here.’
Lachlan can’t remember the last time someone gave him a gift.
The first is lightweight and beautifully wrapped with a small red bow in the corner. ‘This one’s from me!’ Mimi says, beaming, watching him open it.
From within crisp thick paper, something slides out.
It’s a small card positively crammed with writing and tiny scribble sketches and inside, is a leaf necklace, big enough to go over his head and sit around his neck. The leaf itself is preserved in resin, threaded with a tiny jump hoop. It’s a gorgeous leaf. Reddish purple and spiky in the corners.
‘Daddy, you remember I made you a pie, and this was your slice!’ Mimi informs him with no small amount of joy. ‘Bee made it so it’ll never, never die and you can wear it so you never, never die too.’
Oh God, he’s going to cry.
‘I love it,’ Lachlan says, voice gone hoarse when he eventually finds it.
‘It’s perfect, baby. The best leaf. I’ll wear it forever.
’ He slips it over his head, tucks it down his shirt.
‘There, see? The best thing I ever got.’ He pulls her into his lap and kisses her cheek, whispers all her favourite things about how she was always his little girl, he just needed to find her and that it’ll always be them together and he’ll kill anyone who gets in the way of that.
The threat of violence makes her giggle.
‘Daddy bang bang,’ she whispers, tapping his gun where it’s holstered safely.
‘Damned right,’ he tells her, subtly wiping his eyes. ‘Daddy bang bang.’
Lachlan holds Mimi on his lap as he opens the second gift, conscious of the time, though he can spare a few minutes. He tears through the paper and finds a custom built knife resting in a matte black case.
The moment he lifts it free, his curiosity flares.
Perfect weight distribution. Forward-balanced without dragging. Compact enough to conceal easily but heavy enough to do real damage. The dark handle is textured for grip, the metal almost black beneath the lights. Inscribed along the spine in small silver lettering is a single word.
Kestrel.
Lachlan flicks the blade out. His eyes narrow, focused on the tip.
‘Wait, is this…?’ He looks up sharply. Jules is watching him in a strange, careful way. ‘Is this one of the tungsten teeth? From the vents?’
Jules nods, trying for casual and missing by a mile. ‘I kept one.’
Lachlan stares at the knife again. Something clicks into place. He looks between Jules and the blade. ‘You designed this, didn’t you?’
Jules shrugs. ‘A little.’
He tests the mechanism automatically, thumb finding hidden pressure points built seamlessly into the handle.
A second catch releases a low-voltage charge along the blade edge, enough to kill electronic locks, cameras or keypad systems at close range without zapping the handle.
It has other tricks too, Lachlan can tell.
‘It’s incredible,’ he utters, astonished. ‘How did you do this?’
‘I designed it, but Blaire had it made,’ Jules explains.
Before Lachlan can ask, Blaire winks. ‘I have my ways.’
The final gift is from Vasily. A nineteen sixty-nine first edition of The Left Hand of Darkness, a book Lachlan read over and over in the black sites. He’d mentioned it once to the kid.
‘This is beautiful.’ Lachlan carefully turns the pages. ‘Thank you so much.’
Vasily gives a shy smile. ‘It’s from home. I had it sent here.’
Lachlan is holding gifts. His heart is very full, hands too.
‘You read your book to me, Daddy?’
‘Maybe in a year or so,’ he tells Mimi, chuckling.
Lachlan goes about his duties for the rest of the day until dinner, but every step around that typically grim place, he’s lighter than air.