EXCERPT: General Misconduct

Title: General Misconduct
Author: L.A. Witt
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Format: ebook, paperback

Excerpt:

“Go hike to Hiji Falls this weekend,” MA1 Randall had said in the emergency room on Friday night. “Take some pictures. Post them on Facebook. Make a few offhand comments about the rocks being slick, and you fell and busted your ass.”

“Or my face?” I’d asked dryly.

He’d shrugged. “The rocks are slick, and it’s steep. Trust me, it can be done.”

I hadn’t gone anywhere on Saturday. Partly sleeping off the long night, partly not wanting to venture outside the safety of my apartment. This morning, though, I decided I should put Randall’s advice to good use before I went back to work tomorrow.

Parked in front of the half-translated sign at the trailhead, I glanced at myself in the rearview. The bandage over my eyebrow and the welt on my cheekbone glared back. From this angle, I couldn’t see the mark on my throat, but it throbbed enough to keep me aware of it. Every time I moved my hand, the raw skin on my knuckles burned. Skepticism swelled in my gut. Would anyone really buy that all this shit had happened in anything less than a fight?

Hopefully, they would. And if my dignity had to take a hit so my career didn’t end before it had begun, then so be it.

I sighed and got out of my car.

Though it was still early in the day, the Okinawan heat and humidity were already in full swing. Seemed like a good day to hit the beach and maybe try my hand at snorkeling instead of hiking, but the stitches above my eyebrow begged to differ.

“Keep it clean and dry,” the doc had emphatically said before discharging me.

Hiking it was.

Technically, I didn’t have to go to Hiji Falls. There were any number of places around the island where I could spend the day and then post on Facebook that I’d busted my ass on some rocks.

But I was rattled and didn’t have it in me to think of some other destination besides the one the cop had recommended. That, and I was still terrified of someone finding out what had really happened, and on some irrational level, I’d convinced myself that following his instructions to the letter would keep my secret on the down-low where it belonged. Trust the Naval Academy to beat that into my skull.

I started up the trail. I’d heard the kilometer-long hike to Hiji was a steep one, and it lived up to legend. The short stretch from the parking area to the trailhead was good and flat, but then it inclined sharply as it led into the thick forest.

I barely noticed the scenery. My legs burned as I followed the shady trail—and endless staircases—up and down steep slopes and around sharp bends and switchbacks, but my mind was a million miles away.

Friday night shouldn’t have happened the way it did. The warning signs had been there from the get-go. Glenn was drunk and so was I, but I’d been coherent. He’d been a little too pushy, a little too in my space, and no amount of haven’t-been-laid-in-too-damned-long should have blinded me to those red flags.

Idiot that I was, I’d left Palace Habu with him, and that was when things had gone downhill.

“Why don’t we grab a cab and go back to my place?”

“Uh, actually I’d— Let go of my arm.”

“Let’s go.”

“Let’s not.”

Fifteen minutes later, I was in the back of a cab on my way to the hospital at Camp Lester with a handful of cocktail napkins pressed against the cut above my eyebrow that would not stop bleeding. Freaked out. Rattled. Mind full of all the things that could have happened to me if I hadn’t landed that punch just right, if I hadn’t managed to knock him back long enough to get up and bolt for the end of the alley.

Today, that panic lingered beneath my skin, and God knew I’d spent all of yesterday and last night obsessing over every way things could have happened, scaring myself shitless with all kinds of possibilities, but as I walked down the narrow path toward Hiji Falls, the fear was mostly gone. Now I was angry. Fucking furious.

Not just at Glenn, but at myself.

I was a goddamned second-degree black belt. I had titles in kickboxing and jiu-jitsu. Gold fucking medals, and not just at local competitions. I didn’t get my ass handed to me.

Grinding my teeth, I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my shorts, brushing my raw knuckles on the seam. I walked faster, as if I could march the fear and anger right out of myself.

My dad had put me in martial arts when I was a kid. The minute he suspected I was gay, he’d enrolled me in every form of self-defense imaginable because he’d been scared to death someone would try to beat me up when they found out. Whether or not it had been necessary was debatable. All I knew was the first time someone took a swing at me, I was fourteen, and no one who heard about that incident ever tried anything after that, no matter how they felt about gays.

And then the first time someone really threatened me, someone who intended to do God only knew what once he overpowered me, I’d just barely gotten away from him.

How fucking ironic. My dad had made sure I was extensively trained so I could protect myself from homophobes, and the one who finally bloodied my knuckles and split my eyebrow was another damned gay man.

A chill beneath my skin made me shudder, and I broke out in goose bumps in spite of the heat. Continuing down a flat, winding stretch of trail, I alternated between being on the verge of tears—from shame and fear—and wanting to punch something. My pride was as busted up as my face and my hand, but it wasn’t just that. The guy scared me. He did. I couldn’t pretend he didn’t. I’d had training, but so had he. Even the cockiest black belt doesn’t take his own skills for granted against a Marine, and even drunk, that Marine had gotten me flat on my back on the pavement.

All the way up the trail, as it rose and fell and took me deeper into the forest, I couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened the other night. What all too easily could have happened.

And then what? Was I really going to broadcast to everyone in my chain of command that I’d been in a gay bar on Gate Two Street? Everybody knew the clubs on Gate Two Street could be sketchy, especially the ones down back alleys.

Even if we hadn’t met in one of those clubs, I suspected Glenn had the upper hand if our chains of command got involved. He had had just enough lines on his face and gray in his buzz cut to suggest he had a good fifteen years or more on me. Older men were fine and good, but an older American man on this island meant he was stationed here, which meant if he was an officer, he outranked the shit out of me. Even if he was enlisted, he’d have almost an entire career’s worth of credibility over an ensign straight out of the academy. Yeah, maybe I could take his career down with allegations of assault—sexual or otherwise—but that didn’t mean mine wouldn’t go down with his.

I shook my head and kept walking.

Up ahead, a laminated piece of white paper nailed to a post caught my eye. It was in English, so I stopped to read it.

Call Point: This is the place where the electric wave of the mobile phone reaches.

I pulled out my cell phone. Sure enough, I had a few bars. From here on out, I guessed, that wouldn’t be the case.

Eyeing the trail ahead of me, I couldn’t help feeling a little nervous about moving out into a cell phone dead zone. Glenn was probably sleeping off a hangover somewhere, maybe icing his lip or something, but part of me was sure that the second I lost my ability to call for help, he’d be right there waiting for me around the next bend.

Aiden. For Christ’s sake. Just keep going.

I closed my eyes. My sensei had taught me a dozen ways to center myself, to calm myself, and I applied them one after the other. Breathing. Concentrating.

When I opened my eyes again, Glenn was still lurking in the shadows, but the irrational panic was under control. I rolled my shoulders a few times and continued past the sign.

In an effort to ignore Glenn, I tried to concentrate on the scenery. To my surprise, I started to relax a little. It was hard to stay tense and stressed in an environment like this once I actually let myself take it all in. Though the tropical sun was brutal today, the thick canopy of branches and leaves kept the trail comfortably shaded. Beside the trail, a narrow creek wound lazily between trees and boulders, which added a nice backdrop to all the birds singing—or shrieking, in some cases—above me.

The narrow trail had been painstakingly kept, the edges manicured and the staircases well-repaired, which was a nice switch from some of the places I’d hiked back in the States. Nothing wrecked a great hike like twisting an ankle on a rotted step. Though I supposed it would add some credibility to my cover story.

A few other hikers passed me on their way back down. Not a single American among them, but I supposed that wasn’t a surprise. Commander Connelly and some of the other guys in the office had mentioned that Americans weren’t prone to leaving the bases. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to stay on base all the time. If I wanted to be contained in a small area, I’d have requested orders to a damned ship.

The falls were close. The deep creek beside the trail ran faster and with more force, and the distinctive sound of crashing, rushing water was louder with every bend in the trail. The closer I got to the falls, the more aware I was of the sweat and humidity dampening my skin and the fierce heat gnawing on the back of my neck. A dozen signs at the beginning of the trail had warned against swimming up here, but I was pretty sure I could be forgiven for bending—okay, breaking—a few rules when it was this hot.

At the very least, I was taking off my boots and putting my feet in the water. Just the thought of that made me feel cooler all over. Whether my cover story ended up holding water—so to speak—or not, this hike had been a damned good idea. I felt better. A lot better. Glenn wasn’t here, I wasn’t in any danger, and this environment had shaken some of the stress out of me, replacing the tension with a satisfying ache of muscles having to work.

The trail went up again, and then started down, and there were the falls. Gorgeous white water spilled over moss-covered rocks and into a wide pool.

And that was when I saw the most gorgeous set of shirtless shoulders I’d ever seen.

The guy was swimming on the other side of a No Swimming sign. Well, not really swimming. More like wading. In the water, anyway, in spite of the emphatic cartoon characters warning of snakes, slick rocks, falling stones and whatever other dangers lurked up here.

His back was to me, which gave me the most jaw-dropping view of those broad, wet shoulders. His soaked black shorts held on to his hips and ass just right. Tall, lanky—no way in hell he was much older than me.

He straightened a little and slowly turned around.

Oh. My God.

Definitely not older than me. Probably a few years younger, actually. Twenty, twenty-one tops. Even from here, as I came down the trail on legs that were suddenly not terribly steady, his blue eyes were…disarming.

As far as I could tell, he was American—definitely not Japanese—but there was no way he was military. Not unless he was at least a couple of weeks into some extended leave. His dark hair was too long, the ends curling at the base of his neck.

I stopped at the end of the trail, standing between a couple of rocks near the fence at the edge of the pool. He was maybe ten feet away now, close enough I could see droplets of water sliding down the grooves in his lean, smooth muscles. There was a little bit of dark hair plastered against his chest and his tanned arms, but not a lot.

And he was looking right back at me, eyes locked on mine.

“Hi.” I smiled, hoping he’d buy that it was the heat and the hike that had turned my cheeks as red as I was sure they were.

“Hi.” He returned the smile. “Another brave one bests the trail and the snakes and makes it to the top.”

I laughed. “I didn’t see any snakes. Did you?”

“Not this time.” His lips quirked. “Were you watching the ground?”

“Where else would I look?”

He gestured above my head. “They hang out in the trees during the day.”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze. There weren’t any low-hanging branches right here, thank God, but I realized the trail had been shaded almost the entire way. And here I’d been worried about a drunk Marine jumping out at me. “Oh. Awesome. Glad someone mentioned that.”

Laughing, the guy in the water waded closer. “Just messing with you. They do hang in the trees, but I’ve been up here a million times and never seen one.”

“You ever seen one at all?”

“Sure.” He shrugged. “You do enough hiking, you’re going to sooner or later. But as long as they’re coiled up in the trees, you’re fine. They come at you in the grass, they’ll ruin your day.”

“So, watching the ground…is a good idea?”

“Always. But, you know, keep an eye on the trees.” He rested his hip against a boulder. “Nice hike, isn’t it?”

Truth be told, I don’t remember.

“It’s a nice trail.” I glanced back at the visible twist of rocks and stairs. “I’ve definitely hiked worse.”

“Recently?” He arched an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

He gestured at his face, and I was suddenly hyperaware of the bandages and marks on my face. More heat rushed into my cheeks, and I dropped my gaze. “Oh. That.”

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I…didn’t realize it…”

“Don’t worry about it.” I waved a hand and looked him in the eye. “It’s a long story.”

Awkward silence in three…two…

“You going to get in the water?” He motioned at the enticing pool.

“I, um…” I glanced at the No Swimming or Wading sign.

“Don’t worry about that.” He gestured dismissively. “Seriously, nobody cares.”

It wasn’t that I was worried about the sign and anyone who might happen along to enforce it. I’d already planned on getting in the water anyway. I just hadn’t banked on getting into the same water as someone who was making my legs shake worse than the hilly kilometer I’d just hiked.

Just get in the water, idiot.

I untied the laces and slipped off my boots. Then I emptied my pockets, leaving my car keys and wallet inside one of my boots. I started to pull off my shirt but hesitated. Though the trail was shaded, there was plenty of sunlight up here, and I’d forgotten to pack any sunscreen.

So I left my shirt on. I lifted one of the ropes, ducked under it, and stepped into the water.

And immediately pulled my foot back. “Shit.”

He laughed. “Cold?”

“Just a bit.” I tried again, dipping my toe in. Then my whole foot. A little at a time, I eased into the water, and by the time I was in up to my knees, I’d adapted to the cold. After the hike to get up here, it felt great.

After I’d waded a little deeper, I scooped some water into my hands, ignoring the way my raw knuckles burned, and leaned down to pour it over the back of my neck. As much as I wanted to splash it on my face, the doc had been pretty emphatic about keeping the stitches clean and dry. Given the microbes that could be lurking in river water…

Though I’d probably already invited those in via the cuts on my knuckles, but whatever.

I turned toward him. “Man, my legs are tired already. You wouldn’t think that hike would be that tough. It’s not even a mile.”

“Except it’s all up and down, up and down.” He made a gesture like a roller coaster. “We should all be glad it’s not even a mile.”

I laughed. “No kidding.” Legs still in the water, I sat on one of the rocks and looked up at the falls. “Wow, this really is amazing.”

“It is.” He turned to me. “This your first time up here?”

I nodded. “I haven’t been on the island long.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Just transferred here recently. How long have you been here? On Okinawa, I mean. Not”—I gestured at the falls—“here.”

“A few years.” He extended his hand. “Name’s Connor, by the way.”

“Aiden.”

His hand was cool and damp from the water, but still hot from his body heat. As we shook hands, our eyes met, and they locked, and…fuck. Wow, he really was hot. Especially up close. Those blue eyes were unreal.

I released his hand, and as we both sat back, he gave me the oddest little smile, one that seemed caught somewhere between shy and cocky. Before I could figure out which, he broke eye contact and busied himself leaning over to scoop some water onto his arms. It was hard to tell, but I thought his cheeks might’ve turned pink.

“So do you come up here a lot?” I asked.

“Every now and then.” Connor splashed some more water onto his arms and then leaned back against the rock. “It’s one of my favorite places on the island.”

“I can see why. Where else do you like to go?”

“You can’t really go wrong on this rock. I’ve been to all the castles, the outlying islands, the good snorkel spots.” He shrugged. “Just depends on what you’re into, I guess.”

“Do you dive?”

“I tried.” Connor tapped just below his temple. “It bugs my ears.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it. There’s some awesome places to snorkel here. I’ll bet diving would be even better.”

“Well, I’ve never even snorkeled.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I mirrored his earlier motions, leaning down and scooping some water—holy fuck, that stung my knuckles—onto my arms to cool myself off. “Any good spots?”

“I haven’t found a bad spot here. Though I did stop snorkeling off Kadena Marina after I realized it’s right next to a sewage treatment plant.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “I don’t know if they actually dump anything in the water, and it all looks pretty clean and clear, but…no way I’m putting my face in that water.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Other than that, though, you can pretty much pull off the road anywhere, jump in the water, and see all kinds of cool shit. Just, you know, watch for jellyfish.”

“That’s what I’ve heard.” I sat back against the rock and, without thinking about it, propped my foot up on the other rock…just inches from his leg.

He glanced down, and that odd smile came back to life as he looked at me again. There was no casually pulling my leg back and pretending it had never happened, so I just kept it against the rock.

Clearing my throat, I broke eye contact. “You had any problems with jellyfish when you’ve snorkeled?”

“Not the box jellyfish. Never even seen one, knock on wood.”

I lifted my gaze. “Are there others?”

Connor nodded. “Buddy of mine got stung in the face by one of the red ones. Those fuckers won’t kill you, but, man, they will ruin your day.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. Watch out for them. They’re red and about this big.” He held his hands up about a football’s width apart. “Nasty fuckers.”

“Good to know.”

Silence fell between us. My foot was still on the rock next to him. He was still fucking with my pulse just by existing. I had no idea if he was gay, straight or just a goddamned figment of my sex-deprived imagination, and what to say next was completely lost on me.

Fortunately, Connor spoke first. “Listen, um…” He paused, gnawing his lower lip. “There’s a place not far from here, maybe an hour once you get back to the main drag. Some of the most amazing pizza on the island. You, um, want to grab a bite?”

In spite of this unbelievable attraction, my first instinct was to back away and quickly decline, but this wasn’t some drunk Marine trying to coax me into a dark corner. Connor was as nonthreatening as a man could be. And so, so gorgeous.

I smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

Excerpt: Meet Me In The Middle

Title: Meet Me in the Middle
Author: L. A. Witt
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
Format(s): ebook, print (coming soon)

Excerpt: 

The Mallory-Solomon house was always loaded down with smoking-hot men. Seriously, on any given night, that place was a veritable cornucopia of gorgeous bodies and beautiful faces.

This evening was no exception. Rhett Solomon and his husband, Ethan, were both over the hill, but they sure didn’t look the part. Well, okay, Ethan was noticeably gray around the edges, and Rhett had a few lines on his otherwise oh-my-God gorgeous face, but time eventually did that to all of us. Besides, I was pretty sure that living with Ethan or Rhett would’ve had me aging beyond my years, so I’d say they were doing just fine.

Of course, Kieran Frost was there, sitting on a barstool beside the granite-topped kitchen island where Ethan and Rhett prepared munchies for the evening. In true Wilde’s bartender fashion, Kieran was walking eye candy, from his flawless body to his perfectly arranged, almost-black hair. He’d been the much younger plaything that Rhett and Ethan had both been fucking during that dark era a few years back when they’d split up. Apparently, men who fuck hot bartenders together, stay together. Who knew?

Kieran’s fiancé was also easy on the eyes. Alex had been naïve and shy when he first met Kieran—a virgin too, from what I’d heard—but Kieran had dragged him out of his shell and duly corrupted him. The kid had even started dressing a little less plainly, opting for some brighter—but still subdued by my standards—colors, things that fit a little tighter and showed a little more skin. The subtle highlights in his dark hair were a nice touch too.

And then there was, of course, yours truly. Like I said, smoking-hot men.

It was movie night in la casa de hot men, which was becoming something of a tradition. Bad movies, obscure movies, mainstream movies; we didn’t give a shit as long it was entertaining enough to keep us interested until the second or third bottle of wine kicked in. At that point, anything was interesting. Naturally.

Though odd numbers usually bred odd tension, especially when it was two couples and a single guy, that was never a problem with this group. They were affectionate with each other, but everyone flirted with everyone, so I never felt like a fifth wheel. I’d have stopped showing up a long time ago if I’d been the odd man out.

Sabrina Solomon and her boyfriend had been over to have dinner with her dads earlier in the evening, and shortly after Alex, Kieran and I arrived, the two of them were getting ready to go out.

“Well, look at you.” I gestured at Sabrina’s absolutely stunning black evening dress. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say a couple of gay men helped you shop.”

Rhett rolled his eyes. “You’re funny, Dale.”

Ethan muttered something and continued slicing cheese for the tray that was already half covered in artfully fanned-out crackers.

Sabrina just giggled. “Actually, it was just one gay guy this time.”

“You’re welcome.” Kieran winked.

“What?” I put a hand to my chest and glared at Kieran. “You never take me shopping.”

“That’s because you find shit for me to buy, and I end up broke before we stop for dinner.”

I shrugged. “Not my fault I have good taste.”

“Mm-hmm. Expensive taste is more like it.”

Tyson, Sabrina’s boyfriend, put an arm around her waist. “Well, at least she’s got someone to take her shopping.” He smiled, but it was a nervous look, which was odd on someone who was usually so calm and mellow. He seemed in a hurry tonight. Almost twitchy as he said, “Anyway, we’d better run. Doors open at seven.”

“Have a good time.” Rhett came around the island and kissed Sabrina’s cheek. “You know the drill. Call me—”

“If we have too much to drink. I know, Dad.” She gave him a pointed look. “Since you’re hanging around with these miscreants tonight, are you sure you won’t have to call me for the same reason?”

“Very funny.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Solomon.” Tyson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “We’ll just be downtown. We can get a cab if we need to.” To Sabrina, he said, “Ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go.” She hugged both of her dads, said good-bye to the rest of us, and then they headed out of the kitchen with Tyson’s hand on the small of her back.

Rhett and Ethan looked toward the hallway until the door had closed. Then they glanced at each other.

“Hundred bucks says he’s doing it tonight,” Ethan said.

“I don’t know.” Rhett shook his head. “I was sure he was going to do it last Friday night, and he didn’t.”

Kieran, Alex and I exchanged puzzled looks.

“What are you two talking about?” Kieran asked. “Is he going to propose or something?”

Rhett nodded. “I’m surprised that ring hasn’t burned a hole in his pocket already.”

“You know, he actually asked Rhett’s permission,” Ethan said to us. “I didn’t even think people did that anymore.”

“As if it’s my call.” Rhett gestured toward the door. “She’s the one he needs to ask, not me.”

I chuckled. “He was probably just making sure you didn’t sic Ethan on him or something.”

“Oh, ha, ha.” Ethan rolled his eyes.

“He’s got a point, actually,” Rhett said with a shrug. “You are a good deterrent.”

“What?” Ethan scoffed.

“Oh, please. You know damn well you’re more intimidating than I am.” Rhett snatched a piece of cheese off the plate and just barely avoided a swat for his trouble.

Ethan released a huff of breath and turned to Kieran. “See what I put up with? Son of a bitch just uses me to chase off guys who want to date Sabrina.”

“Pretty sure that’s not the only thing he uses you for,” Kieran deadpanned.

“Hmm.” Ethan shrugged. “Good point. Fair enough.”

Rhett laughed softly, but then he glanced in the direction Sabrina and her boyfriend had gone, and sighed. “God. It was bad enough when she started dating and when she graduated high school. Getting married?” He grimaced and shook his head. “That’s…a bit much.”

Ethan patted his shoulder. “Welcome to getting old, sweetheart.”

“Well,” I said, “at least you can find solace in always being younger than Ethan.”

Ethan glared at me. Rhett, Alex and Kieran all snickered.

Rhett wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist from behind and kissed his cheek. “He’s got a point, you know. That’s why I keep you around.” Nuzzling Ethan’s neck, he added, “You make me feel young.”

Ethan elbowed him playfully, and they both laughed.

Alex turned to Kieran. “Hey, aren’t you joining that club soon?”

Kieran eyed him. “Which club?”

Flashing him a devilish grin, Alex said, “Why, the club of elderly gay men.”

“Oh, shut up.” Kieran rolled his eyes.

“What?” Ethan arched an eyebrow. “How do you get to join? You’re not even thirty.”

Alex put an arm around Kieran’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. “He’s just having a bit of a not-quite-midlife crisis.”

I laughed. “What the hell? Did you find a gray nipple hair or something?”

“If I did, then it would’ve meant I was in bed with you.”

“Ooh,” the other guys said in unison.

“Burn,” Alex said.

I flipped Kieran the bird. “You only wish you were in bed with me, darling.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dale.” Rhett clapped my shoulder. “So what’s the deal, Kieran?”

Alex smirked. “He got an invite to his ten-year high school reunion.”

“That’s it?” Rhett laughed. “Ethan’s coming up on—”

“Zip it.” Ethan shot him a glare.

Rhett just laughed again.

“Ugh,” Kieran said. “I can’t believe it’s my ten-year reunion already. Where the hell did a decade go?”

Alex snorted, offering a less than sincere, “Sorry.”

Kieran glared at him but then laughed and rolled his eyes again. “You are such a brat, you know that?”

“That’s what you get for robbing the cradle,” Ethan said. “You get to hear about it every time some little milestone like this comes along.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Kieran threw back.

“What? Rhett’s not that much younger than me.”

“You’re still the oldest man in the room, so…”

“Fuck you.”

Rhett snickered. “He’s got a point, you know. I mean, aren’t you coming up on your thirty-year reunion?”

Before Ethan could come back with something snide, Alex broke in. “We’re talking about high school reunions, not college.”

Ethan’s jaw dropped. Rhett, Kieran and I all laughed. Alex wasn’t always so forthcoming with the barbs, but when he threw one out there, it was always a good one.

“Well played,” Kieran said with a wink.

I rested my elbow on the kitchen island and looked at Kieran. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just got the invite to my twenty-year reunion.”

“Your twenty-year?” Kieran’s eyebrow jumped. “High school?”

I nodded.

He cocked his head. “Did you graduate when you were twenty-five or something?”

“What?” I scoffed and stood upright. “Just how old do you think I am?”

He shrugged and gestured at Rhett and Ethan. “Well, you hang around with these senior citizens, so—”

“As do you!”

“Yeah, but you’ve been part of the group longer. Figured you all evolved out of the Triassic era together.”

I exhaled sharply and looked at Rhett. “Why do you guys put up with him again?”

Rhett shrugged. “He gives good head?”

Alex choked on his wine.

“So you claim.” I gave Kieran a pointed look. “I have yet to verify this.”

Kieran grinned and wrapped his arm around Alex’s shoulders. “I have three witnesses. That’s enough to convince most juries.”

“Well, consider this jury hung,” I said.

All four men groaned.

“Oh my God, Dale.” Rhett face-palmed. “That was a bad one even for you.”

I put up my hands. “What? It’s true.”

“Mm-hmm.” Kieran shook his head.

I just chuckled and took another drink. To this day, I had no idea if Rhett, Ethan and Kieran had curtailed their “extracurricular activities” after Alex came into the picture. Sassy as he was, the kid had been a shy, naïve virgin before Kieran got his hands on him, but I had complete faith that Kieran had done his duty and turned Alex into a cock-hungry sex fiend. Whether or not that meant he’d turned their threesomes into foursomes, I didn’t know. And if it did, oh Lord, what I wouldn’t have given to watch that for a minute or five. Or be in the middle of it.

Before I got carried away with that little fantasy again, I shook myself back to life. “And anyway, yes. I’m going to my twenty-year reunion.”

Kieran scowled. “You’re actually going?”

“Of course. I haven’t seen some of these people in years.”

“Yeah, I thought that was kind of the idea,” Kieran muttered. “If I wanted to stay in touch with them, I would have.”

“Well, yes, but there are some I only want to see once every ten or twenty years. You know, see if time was as cruel to the jocks and cheerleaders as the movies always promise it will be.” I paused for a sip of wine and then turned more serious. “And I have lost touch with a few people over the years, and this can be a way to reconnect with them. A little more personal than Facebook, you know?”

“Exactly why I’m not going,” Kieran said. “I’ve got some friends from that era, but if I haven’t seen them in ten years, I’m not flying to California to get reacquainted with them.”

“You never know,” I said with a shrug. “Could be fun.”

“He’s right.” Alex nudged Kieran with his elbow. “You could have a good time.”

Kieran looked at him. Then he sighed. “Okay. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

“Might as well go to this one,” Rhett said. “You know, before they start holding your reunions in old folks’ homes.” He patted Ethan’s arm.

“Keep it up,” Ethan said, “and you won’t have to worry about going to your next reunion.”

“You’re so adorable when you’re menacing.” Rhett turned Ethan’s chin toward him and kissed him lightly. Ethan tried to glare at him, but they both laughed, and Rhett kissed him again.

Then Ethan looked at us. “So are we going to watch a movie tonight or not?”

Rhett glanced at the clock on the microwave. “We wait too much longer, we’re going to fuck up Ethan’s bedtime.”

“Ass,” Ethan muttered. “Come on, let’s go see what god-awful DVD Dale brought this time.” He paused. “Rhett, would you mind grabbing another bottle of wine?”

“Good idea.” Rhett turned to the rest of us. “Anyone else?”

“I’ll take a glass,” Alex said and downed what was left in his glass.

“Same here,” Kieran said. “Can’t watch a movie with you guys without some wine.”

They all started toward the living room, but I hung back. “You’ll probably need an extra pair of hands to carry all that. I’ll help.”

Rhett glanced at me, but he didn’t say anything, and everyone but us cleared out of the kitchen.

As soon as we were alone, I said, “I need a little advice.”

“Sure, what’s up?” He leaned down to take a bottle off their well-stocked wine rack, but paused. Then he held up a finger and called over his shoulder. “We sticking with red, or does anyone want white?”

There was some murmuring in the other room before Ethan called back, “Red.”

“Red it is.” Rhett pulled a bottle off the rack. “Sorry about that. What’s up?”

I leaned against the kitchen island. “It’s about my high school reunion, actually.”

“You’re going, right?”

“I’m…not sure, to be honest.”

“Oh?” Rhett looked up from opening the bottle. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, there’s a lot of people I want to see, but…” I exhaled. “Let’s put it this way. If I could see a list of who else is coming before I committed and bought my ticket, that would help me make the decision.”

“Someone in particular you want to see?”

“Someone in particular I don’t want to see.”

“Ooh.” He set the cork and corkscrew on the counter. “An ex?”

“Well, he’s not an ex, per se,” I said. “We never dated. We just…fucked. Once after graduation, and again at our last reunion.”

Rhett’s eyebrows rose. “I could see how that might make this reunion awkward.”

“You think?”

Brow furrowed as he thought for a moment, Rhett idly thumbed his wedding ring. “Mind if I ask something personal?”

I picked up the bottle of wine to start pouring the glasses. “Shoot.”

He hesitated. Then, “What would you do if you saw him again?”

I set the bottle down. The question hammered itself into my consciousness. Right into my bones. What would I do? I shook my head slowly. “I don’t know. I mean, it’s been ten years, but it’s…”

“Still raw?”

“For lack of a better word, yes.”

Rhett took the bottle back, and as he poured, said, “What exactly happened? I mean, obviously you slept together, but”—he gave me one of his patented “looks”—“you’ve fucked plenty of guys and never batted an eye. Something else must have happened.”

I watched the wine accumulating in each glass in turn, because that meant not acknowledging Rhett’s scrutiny. “It was…complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?”

“Sex? No.” I grinned. “Sex can be very, very simple.” My grin fell. I reached for one of the glasses he’d already poured, and swallowed most of the wine in a single go.

Rhett blinked. “Must have been really complicated.” He took my glass back and refilled it. “What happened?”

I exhaled. “Friendship gone sour after a couple of fucks that probably shouldn’t have happened.”

“Ouch.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Will there be people at the reunion you do want to see?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“Then go.” He set the bottle aside and looked at me. “Don’t let this guy control you and keep you from people you want to spend time with.”

“And if he’s there?”

Rhett waved a hand. “Don’t worry about him. It’s been ten years. You deserve to be able to go to this thing, see people from your past, and have a good time.”

I focused on the granite countertop between us. That was the logical solution, of course. “A little easier said than done, don’t you think?”

“Ooh, yeah.” When I looked at him, Rhett grimaced. “You may recall I’ve got some experience with being in the same building with someone I didn’t want to see.”

“Very true.” I was fairly certain the entire damned city remembered when he and Ethan were stuck living in the same house after they’d split up. The silver lining was that it had ultimately brought Kieran into our social circle, but the two-year downward spiral and the short period between breaking up and making up? Jesus. I thought they’d kill each other.

“Honestly?” I said. “Part of me wants to see him.”

Rhett’s eyebrows rose. “Which part?”

“Not that one.” I laughed, but it didn’t last. “I don’t know, I guess I feel like I need some closure after the way things went down before. It’s been bugging me all this time, and I can’t decide if seeing him again will just make it worse, or if it’ll give me a chance to put it to rest.”

Right then, Ethan appeared in the doorway, his lips curled into their customary smirk. “You guys letting the wine age or something?”

From behind him, Kieran called out, “Ethan doesn’t have time to wait for it to—”

“That’s enough out of you,” Ethan threw over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and looked at us again. His smirk faded. “Everything okay in here?”

Rhett looked at me.

I smiled and picked up three of the wineglasses. “Everything’s fine.”

Ethan eyed me skeptically. “You sure?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhett said. They exchanged one of those long, loaded looks they’d perfected after almost a decade and a half together, and Ethan nodded like he’d received whatever message Rhett had been conveying. Then he disappeared back into the living room, and Rhett turned to me again. “You still have feelings for this guy?”

“I’m… Oh hell, I’m not even sure. I mean, we were close friends all through high school, and then we fucked at our graduation party, and then we didn’t speak until our ten-year reunion.” I released an exasperated sigh. “And then we fucked again and haven’t spoken since.” Pausing, I shook my head. “And it’s not even that simple. There’s…more to it. But…”

Rhett watched me silently for a long moment. “Can I offer one piece of unsolicited advice?”

“Rhett, darling, I pulled you aside to talk to you. Any advice is hardly unsolicited.”

He half shrugged. “Okay, point taken. But, listen. Whatever happened, you obviously have some lingering hang-ups about this guy.”

“So, you don’t think I should go to the reunion?”

“No, I think you should go. Just promise me you won’t fuck this guy if he’s there.”

I snorted. “Sweetheart, please. After the last two times? Anything he tries to put in me is getting cut off and handed back to him on a platter.”

Rhett threw his head back and laughed. “Ever the eloquent one, Dale.”

“And that’s why you love me.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far. Now grab those wineglasses and let’s go see if this DVD is any good.”

EXCERPT: Something New Under the Sun

Title: Something New Under the Sun
(the sequel to A Chip In His Shoulder)
Author: L. A. Witt
Publisher: Riptide Publishing
Formats: ebook, paperback


Excerpt:

Chapter 1

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

The noise needled my ears. Dragged me out of a sound sleep.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

Whoever was behind waking my ass up was going to—

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

Clarity jolted me awake. My palm computer’s alarm. The reminder to log into my remote file server. My last resort against my dad.

Beep-beep. Beep-beep. Beep-beep.

“All right, all right.” I leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled through my clothes. Found the computer. Switched off the alarm.

Much better.

Computer in hand, I dropped back onto the pillows beside Liam, who was still out cold. Jackass. I yawned as I rubbed my burning eyes with my thumb and forefinger. The stinging refused to quit, though, thanks to the shit that passed for air in the Gutter.

Still squinting, I picked up the computer again. The signal down here was sketchy at best, but enough to let me access my remote file server. I’d set it up to require logins every twenty-four hours or it would release all the damning documents about my father and his ilk to the media. Or, I thought as my finger hovered over the login button, I could let it lapse now. Release the information and let Dad fall instead of giving him another twenty-four-hour reprieve.

Twenty-four hours. Lucky him. It had been less than that since I’d been waiting to die in my penthouse. Surviving? That had been unexpected. Waking up naked in a cramped Gutter apartment next to my ex-lover assassin? Yeah. That came out of the fucking blue.

But in spite of my father’s best efforts, here I was, and now all I had to do was let my login lapse to make his life hell.

No. No, not yet. This was an emergency backup that would ruin my father’s reputation, but might not land his ass in prison where it belonged. A card to be played when all other options were exhausted. This would only damage him. I wanted him destroyed.

“Here’s another twenty-four hours of safety, asshole.” I pressed the button with more force than necessary. “Enjoy it.”

And now what? Fuck if I knew.

Not sleeping, that was for sure. I exited the login screen and opened one of the local news sites. I swore the device groaned with the effort of streaming information with the shitty Gutter signal. Eventually, though, the page came up. The headline was no surprise, but it still sent cold water through my veins:

Cybernetix Heir Kidnapped at Gunpoint, May Be Working with Captor

Okay, so Liam didn’t technically kidnap me, but otherwise, they had us pegged.

Below the headline, Three Sky Police Dead. Reward Offered for Information, Capture.

I chewed the inside of my cheek. Knowing Dad, that reward was substantial, and it applied to capturing Liam or me. There was probably a “dead or alive” attached to it too. And since dead men didn’t talk, “dead” likely paid more than “alive.”

I skimmed the article on the small screen.

. . . anti-mod terrorist Daniel Harding, son of Cybernetix tycoon Richard Harding, was kidnapped . . .

. . . evaded SWAT with gunfire and a bomb threat . . .

. . . unnamed captor shot multiple times . . .

. . . pair may be working together . . .

. . . substantial rewards offered . . . .

I swore under my breath and put the palm computer aside. My stomach wound itself into knots. The whole goddamned police force, not to mention Dad’s private security, was probably on the lookout for us. The minute we show our faces, we’re fucked.

Unless Liam had some sort of plan. Any kind of plan.

I glanced at him and considered waking him up, but decided against it. Only a few things sucked more than dealing with a woken-up Liam. Better to let him come around on his own.

I couldn’t help smiling as I watched him sleep. The sheet only covered him from the waist down, leaving his flawless torso exposed. He hadn’t aged at all in the five years since he’d disappeared into the Gutter the night it all went to shit. Thanks to the vampire self-healing and the thousands of nanobots in his body, there wasn’t a mark on him. No scars from life as a prostitute, a thief, and an assassin. No discoloration in the smooth skin of his abs to show where two bullets had nearly killed him last night. Probably not even a bruise to acknowledge where I’d dug my fingers into his hips just hours ago. A new cybernetic mod made of titanium and black silicone formed a crescent around his left eye before extending into his sandy blond hair, but otherwise, he was the same Liam he’d always been.

I, on the other hand, had plenty of mementos. My eyes and throat burned from the pollution, and pain like I’d never experienced had carved itself into places I’d never known existed. Rope burns and strained muscles from rappelling down the elevator shaft. Bruises on my knees and arms from the novice errors that had seen me bumping into beams and supports. A dull ache from the crude surgery Liam had performed to get the proximity enforcer chip out of my shoulder; he’d sealed the wound as only a vampire could, but the tissue hadn’t completely forgiven the invasive, anesthetic-free procedure. Whatever wasn’t sore from escaping my apartment ached because Liam and I, in spite of being exhausted, had spent half the day fooling around just to make sure we were still alive. Fuck, but I was a hot mess.

I sat up carefully and swung my legs over the side of the bed. The water-stained plywood floor chilled my bare feet, and creaked as much as my joints did when I reached for the pair of jeans Liam had loaned me. Then I went into the bathroom to take a leak and throw some cold water on my face.

I shuffled back into the main room. Liam’s apartment was sparse and neat, but still had that yellowed look that seemed to permeate every inch of the Gutter. Bare drywall, a single bulb dangling from the middle of the ceiling. Definitely not the chrome-and-glass world in which I’d spent my entire life. Just being here drove home my new reality more than anything else: there was no going back.

Liam stirred. I sat on the edge of the bed, and he put a hand on my thigh. I rested my hand on top of his.

“Morning,” he said, then did a double take and squinted up at me. “Wow. You look like hell.”

“And fuck you, too, jackass.” I glared at him. “I don’t look that bad.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Dude, all you’re missing is a black eye and a split—”

“The same look could be arranged for you.”

“Okay, okay, you don’t look that bad.”

A tired grin played at his lips. Then the amusement faded in favor of a frown. “I bruised the shit out of your neck, though, didn’t I?”

I touched the spot just above my collarbone, sucking in a hiss of breath when my fingertips found the tender, slightly swollen flesh. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, but it’s—”

“It was either let you feed or let you bleed to death.” I looked him in the eye as I lowered my hand. “I’ll take a bruise over you being dead.”

He swallowed. His gaze drifted to the bite mark, but then he shook himself. “So did you get some sleep?”

“Didn’t have much choice,” I said. “You wore me out.”

He smiled halfheartedly. “Good. Because that’s probably the last decent sleep you’re going to have for a while.”

“I believe it. So what now?”

“We bring your dad down. Take down the whole fucking Sky if we have to.” He sat up, laying the sheet over his lap. “Question is, where do we start?”

“I was hoping you already had that figured out.”

Liam gave a dry laugh, which didn’t settle my nerves at all. “Not quite, I’m afraid.”

I scratched the back of my neck. “Well, if we present the information we have to the Sky Council, we can bring Dad down for murder and blow open the corruption in the cybernetics companies. Draw enough attention to the exploitation in the Gutter, and they’ll have to do something.”

Liam shook his head. “No way in hell the Sky Council will ever listen to us.” He idly slid his hand from my thigh to the underside of my knee. “We’d never even make it past security. We’re fugitives now.”

The news article’s headline flashed through my mind. “More like terrorists. Which is why we need to get all the evidence we have in front of the Sky Council as quickly as possible. Before Dad catches up to us or has time to do damage control.”

“Which is where things get tricky. I don’t suppose you have too many friends left on high, do you?”

“Do cyberterrorists count?”

He scowled. “Not if we want to get in front of the Sky Council.” Liam watched his finger trace a wrinkle in my jeans. Some unspoken thought darkened his expression.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Liam drew in a deep breath, apparently oblivious to the taste of the air, and lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Say we get your father charged with the murders and your attempted murder.” He inclined his head. “What’s the common thread?”

“The common thread?” I eyed him. “Besides my father paying you—” The penny dropped. I held Liam’s gaze. “Oh. Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled.

“I want to bring your father and his company down as much as you do,” he said, “but last night wasn’t the first time I’ve done a hit for your father or any other cybernetics tycoon. We go after him for those murders, I go down right alongside him.”

I swallowed.

He squeezed my leg. “Daniel, I did what I did because I was desperate. I know that doesn’t make any of it right, but just take me at my word here: when you’re offered a contract for a hit, you don’t turn it down or you wind up with a contract on your own head.”

I hadn’t given much thought to how things worked in blood transactions, but it made sense. A man who knew about a contract but didn’t take it was a liability, and as someone who’d been deemed a liability by my father and his corporate empire, I was hard-pressed to begrudge Liam the things he’d done to survive.

But that wouldn’t help me take my father down, a mission that had bordered on an obsession for the last few years. I couldn’t stomach the idea of him spending the rest of his life in anything less than the hellish world within the walls of a maximum security pen. He deserved nothing better.

“So if I can’t fuck him over for murder,” I said, “then what?”

“We get him where it really hurts,” Liam said. “In his wallet. Specifically, his company’s wallet. I think the only shot we have here is working with someone who has the clout to get the Sky Council’s attention. Which means we need to find and make nice with someone who has that clout.”

“Who do you have in mind?”

“Vampires.”

I waited for the punch line. When it didn’t come, I said, “You’re serious.”

Liam shrugged. “You said yourself they’re hemorrhaging money into cybernetics companies for research and development.”

“Yeah. And?”

“And, if we can prove to them that they’re paying for R&D that isn’t happening, and funding a mod that Cybernetix is keeping up its sleeve, they’ll have the motivation to investigate and take them down.”

“But Cybernetix has covered its tracks a dozen times over. These are people capable of covering up the murder of someone as far up the chain as they are, Liam. We have no concrete proof that the mod exists, and the minute Dad smells a leak, he’ll make all the evidence disappear.”

His gaze shifted toward me. “Then we get the proof before he has a chance to cover it up.”

I eyed him. Oh, goddammit, I knew that look, and I barely kept myself from groaning. “You have an idea, don’t you?”

“Sort of.”

I fidgeted on the edge of the bed. “What do you have in mind?”

“We get into Cybernetix and take the UV mod prototype.”

“Liam, are you fucking insane?”

A grin played at his lips. “Do you even need to bother asking?”

“Okay, no.” I exhaled. “But your insanity doesn’t negate the fact that what you’re suggesting is on the absolutely-out-of-your-fucking-mind end of the batshittery spectrum.”

Liam shrugged. “Got any better ideas?”

“Yes!”

He cocked his head. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

“We—” I wracked my brain. “We could . . .”

He lifted his eyebrows expectantly, the corner of his mouth twitching.

“Okay, fine. No. I don’t.” I tapped my fingers on the back of my arm. “So we go into Cybernetix and get the mod.”

“And once we prove it works, we’ll have his company’s balls in a vise.”

“Prove . . . prove it works? But how do—” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Why do I get the feeling you’re really suggesting we install this thing into you?”

“You’d be right.”

“So we put this mod into you. Then what? Have you go running out into the sun in front of some random vampires?”

“Well, not random ones.”

“You already have some in—” I stopped. “Oh, no. No. Liam, you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged. “Seems like a good idea to me.”

“Your parents,” I said. “You’re going to show your face to the same people who put you in the damned Gutter.”

“When they find out they’re being fucked by the cybernetics companies,” he said, “somehow I don’t think my parents will give two shits who I’ve slept with. That said, I guarantee the window of time between getting my father’s attention and being thrown out will be very short, which is why I want to have the mod already installed in my system so I can show him it works.”

I ran my hand through my hair and sighed. “I guess we don’t have much choice, do we?”

“Not really. But first things first. If we’re going up to the Sky, then we’re going to need to doctor our appearances a bit. Our faces are probably plastered all over the Sky and Gutter by now.”

Eyeing him, I said, “I’m assuming this is going to be more complicated than putting on a pair of glasses and a fake mustache.”

Liam chuckled. “Yeah. Just a little.”

Chapter 2

After I’d endured an hour of a chemical that I was sure was going to eat through my scalp, Liam was satisfied the job was done. He had me rinse my hair, and then I looked in the dingy bathroom mirror to check out his handiwork.

So much for the dark-rooted blond look I’d so painstakingly maintained. Now my hair was ink black, walking the razor-fine line between appearing natural and screaming fake. I abandoned my customary spikes and smoothed my hair to the side, parting it so it looked meticulously arranged.

I swallowed hard as I met my reflection’s eyes. With this uniformly dark, conformist hairstyle, the only thing that set me apart from my father or half brothers was the plain, gray shirt and faded jeans. Well, and the mess of bruises.

My skin crawled. The longer I stared at this new me, the faster my heart beat. If anyone down here figured out who I was, I’d be fucked, and no amount of altered hair or nondescript clothing made me feel remotely inconspicuous. Even dressed as a Gutter rat, I was still a Harding. What if footage from the surveillance cameras of my apartment building had made it this far? What if my reputation as an economic terrorist had preceded me? What if anyone so much as caught a scent on me that didn’t gel with the Gutter?

“Done admiring yourself, beauty queen?”

I turned around as Liam came into the bathroom, and I pulled in a breath. His sandy blond hair was more of a reddish brown now, bordering on bronze. False lenses darkened his blue eyes to a deep brown, and the mod on his left temple had disappeared. No, that wasn’t right. It was still there, but covered, pushing up the layer of false skin to create the appearance of a crescent-shaped scar.

He glanced past me at the mirror, running his fingers over the edges of the false skin. Then he shifted his attention to me. He looked me up and down, pausing to adjust a few strands of my hair before he grinned. “You know, I like the half blond look, but this?” The grin broadened. “This suits you nicely.”

“Yeah, right.” I faced my reflection again. “This will never work.”

He put a hand on the small of my back. “Of course it will. You don’t look like you belong in the Sky anymore, do you?”

“I don’t look like I belong in the Gutter, either.” I glared at the mirror. “Fuck. I look like myfather.”

He scrutinized my appearance for a moment. “No, you don’t. Not as much as you think.” Before I could say anything else, he leaned in and kissed me. “You look fine. And no one will recognize you, which is the important part.”

“We’ll see.” I ran my fingertips across the false skin over his mod. “You covered it up.”

“Visible mods are a liability down here.” He looked past me and eyed the mirror again, finger-combing his hair over the uncovered part of the mod. “You can’t walk half a block without getting mugged, but mods are an open invitation for someone to stick a knife between your ribs with no obligation to clean out your wallet.”

“Oh. Great.” Fuck, I really was in a different world.

Liam finished smoothing his hair over the mod, and then stepped away from the mirror with a muttered, “All right, let’s go.”

Wearing a borrowed duster, I followed Liam out of his apartment and into a hallway lit by a buzzing half- burned-out bulb. As he locked the door behind us, he said over his shoulder, “I know you don’t like the idea, but this is going to get dangerous. You need—”

“No mods.”

“Daniel—”

“I’m not getting modified.” I waved the idea away. “It’s out of the question.”

Liam shoved his keys into his pocket. “You want to see this to the end? You do what you have to do to stay alive.”

“I understand that, but I want to stay human.”

Liam’s eyes narrowed; mine flicked toward the camouflaged mod on his temple.

“That’s not what I meant,” I said. “You know it isn’t.”

He set his jaw and brushed past me down the hall. “Let’s go.”

“Liam, I didn’t—”

“I know what you meant.”

Mouthing a silent string of profanity, I started after him. “Goddammit, you can’t honestly expect me to let go of my issues with mods overnight.”

He spun around and stabbed a finger into my chest. “I can, and I do. Don’t think for a second your pretty little principles are going to keep you alive anymore. People want youdead, Daniel.”

“Yes, I know they do,” I said through my teeth.

“Which means you get to make hard choices and sacrifices, just like—”

“Don’t fucking talk to me about making sacrifices.” I batted his hand away and stepped closer until our faces were nearly touching. “Just because I’m not a fan of mods, don’t you dare stand there and assume I haven’t had to sacrifice anything. You know nothing about how much I’ve sacrificed the last few years.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve made sacrifices,” he growled. “Wasting away in luxury—”

Liam caught my fist before I even realized I’d thrown the punch. He didn’t blink, didn’t break eye contact, just kept on looking right at me as his fingers dug into the back of my hand. “You done?”

“Don’t you dare lecture me about sacrifices, you son of a bitch. You have no idea.”

His lips pulled back over clenched teeth, revealing the edges of his unnaturally sharp canines. “Enlighten me.”

I jerked my hand free from his grip, but the sudden ache in my throat stopped the words from coming. I managed to snarl, “Fuck you,” and then shoved past him and kept walking.

Tried to, anyway. I only made it two steps before Liam grabbed my arm.

“Daniel.” His voice was much gentler than his grasp. “I’m sorry. I really am just trying to keep us both alive.”

“I know. But look, don’t just assume things about me. My life isn’t what it was five years ago.”

“Then what . . .”

Holding his gaze, I swallowed hard. The truth was right there on the tip of my tongue, itching to be told, but anyone could be listening. The fewer people who knew my secret, the safer we all were.

“Daniel?” Liam loosened his grip on my arm. “What is—”

“We don’t have time for this now. Let’s just go.” The question lingered in his eyes, and I added a whispered, “Please, Liam.”

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded, and we kept walking.

In silence, we stepped outside.

The pollution was more intense out here. The foul taste on my tongue and the sick sweetness in my nose dragged bile up my throat. One breath had me coughing hard enough to double me over. Hard enough I was sure I was going to puke. I braced myself against the building until the worst had passed, and stayed that way as the world spun around me.

Liam’s hand materialized on the back of my neck. “You all right?”

Jaw clenched, I drew in a cautious breath. The air stung the back of my throat, but I didn’t cough quite so violently this time. Though my stomach didn’t exactly settle, the danger of getting sick was—I hoped—gone.

I straightened up and squinted against the noxious air as I buried my face in my collar. “Is it always like this down here?”

He nodded. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I’m sure.” I rubbed my burning eyes and muttered, “And how do you fucking see?”

“You’ll get used to that too. Come on.” He tugged at my arm, and I let him lead me while my eyes slowly adapted to the pollution.

The legends about the Gutter didn’t do it justice. Maybe it had to be breathed to be believed. Or maybe this kind of polluted, poverty-stricken place simply didn’t translate to low-res photos and bootlegged videos. Thick haze obscured upper floor windows and shrouded streetlamps in greenish yellow halos. A downdraft from above blew into the back of my collar and kicked trash and debris around on the streets and sidewalks.

The atmosphere made my skin crawl, but it was the glassy-eyed bleakness of the people that gave me chills. Workers shuffled in and out of factories, the ones in the oncoming shift as lethargic as the ones on their way out. People regarded each other—and us—with shifty eyes, everyone hunched and guarded.

All sorts of coughing—from throat-clearing to the kind of hacking reminiscent of end-stage tuberculosis—filled the background like an improvised band with no sense of rhythm. Much as I tried to muffle it, I added my own out-of-sync contribution to the perpetual lung clearing.

The only one who didn’t was Liam. I envied his effortless breathing. Probably the result of a mod of some sort. That or being a vampire. Same thing, really.

People walked around an animated altercation like the fight was a lamppost or a park bench. I didn’t see anyone glance at the passed-out drunk, the rat lapping at a pool of vomit beside him, or the mangy cat perched on top of a trash can. No one seemed to notice the man with his pants around his ankles fucking a barely dressed woman against the graffiti-covered bricks. I couldn’t decide if the woman looked bored, wasted, or both.

How did a world like this exist so close to the Sky? The sleek glass landscape to which I was accustomed was mere meters above that opaque, seemingly impenetrable haze hanging over the decaying streets and buildings.

“I can’t believe people live down here,” I said into my collar.

Liam’s gaze slid toward me. “You think they would if they had a choice?”

“Don’t fucking start, all right? This is the first time I’ve seen this all firsthand.”

“Point taken. Well, this is it.” He gestured around. “It doesn’t get any prettier down here.”

I said nothing, just tried to take it all in. If our task of bringing down the cybernetics companies was daunting in the light of Liam’s apartment, it was herculean out here in the wilds of the Gutter. All the white-collar espionage and cloak-and-dagger games we played in the Sky, stealing and swapping information and little pieces of technology, suddenly seemed as effective as chasing away the cat and hoping it didn’t come back for the rat five minutes later.

“We’ve got one stop to make,” he said after a while. “And then I say we head up to the Sky and contact some of your people.” He glanced at me. “You sure they’ll help us?”

“At this point, the anti-mod movement needs all the help it can get. Now that they know Dad’s willing to kill me?” I whistled and nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They’ll help.”

“Even if that means working with a cyborg vampire who tried to kill you?”

“Beggars can’t be anti-mod snobs.”

“Speaking of which . . .” That damned eyebrow arched. “Daniel, you need some mods.”

I closed my eyes and groaned. “We’ve been over this.”

“We have, and I still think you’re being an idiot.”

“I’m touched.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to replace bones or organs, for fuck’s sake. Nanobots. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” I laughed. “Yeah, okay. Sign me right up.”

He stopped and glared at me, the stark light from an overhead streetlamp picking out all the tiny contours of his covered mod. “They’re not that big of a deal. They’re invisible, and they saved my ass more than once last night.”

“No.” I put up my hand. “Maybe yours have saved your ass, but the only mod I’ve had so far almost killed me.”

“That was an entirely different kind of mod.” He shifted impatiently. “Think about it. In the parking garage last night, what if you had taken those two bullets instead of me? You’d bedead.”

My stomach lurched at the memory of Liam covered in his own blood.

He touched my hand and his voice softened. “Look at the world you’re living in now.” He gestured at everything around us. “Just walking down the street is dangerous here. And what we’re involved in? This is bigger than the hacking and computer shit you’re used to. We’re not just playing corporate espionage anymore.” He stroked the side of my wrist with his thumb, the light intensifying his artificially darkened eyes to the point I was almost compelled to draw away, especially as he added, “This is war, Daniel.”

And what good am I to my side if I agree to become my own enemy?

Lowering his voice, Liam said, “Your father wants you dead. I guarantee before this is over, there will be bullets flying and shit exploding, and if you want to survive to the end, you have got to get modified.”

I shifted my gaze away from him. I couldn’t tell if the sick feeling in my gut was from the air I’d breathed or what Liam had said.

He reached for my hand, and waited until I looked at him to speak. “Please. Twenty-four hours ago, yes, I was ready to kill you myself, but now . . .” He lowered his gaze, watching his thumb rub the side of my hand. After a moment, he met my eyes. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

I gritted my teeth, alternately looking straight ahead and glancing down at our hands. “You are such a sap, you know that?”

He laughed quietly. “Maybe I am. I’m serious, though. I know you hate mods, and quite honestly, I don’t blame you. But if it means the difference between life and death, will you please consider getting nanobots?” He paused. “They can be removed, you know. They’re not a permanent mod.”

I eyed him for a long moment, trying to come up with an argument for not getting nanobots in light of our situation. And I couldn’t come up with a damned thing.

“Fine. Nanobots. Nothing more.”

“Thank you.” He squeezed my hand. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”