Tradition dictated that Roman toast to the completion of their last job, so he raised his drink and said: “To another rogue off the streets. May Burrstone rot in hell.”
Ruby smirked as she clinked her glass with his. “To me for saving the day.”
“To drinking,” Tan added. The two empty mugs in front of him affirmed the enthusiasm behind his toast.
“To still being alive,” Caleb said.
And Sparks finished: “To fucking shit up.”
Griff approached them, his ragged woollen shirt and slacks contrasting against his spotless blue tie. “Celebrating tonight?” he asked, laying a full pitcher on their table. The handful of stray wisps of white hair on his head were outmatched by his bushy eyebrows that were so overgrown they threatened to cover his eyes. Between the eyebrows and the smoke, it was a wonder he could even see the patrons he served. Although maybe he couldn’t. Maybe it was better that way.
“Aye,” Tan took another chug of his drink. “We survived for another payday. Sorry mate, but you’re going to have to deal with us a little longer at least.”
“Better you than others.” Griff offered a polite nod before returning to the bar.
Griff had an arrangement with the team. They got cheap drinks and a table constantly reserved, while Griff got protection — no one dared start trouble when a group of armed bounty hunters watched from the corner. The Mutt’s Tail had earned a reputation after Caleb had finished with the first set of drunken punters who tried to start a fight here. Griff had never been able to completely remove the bloodstains from the floor. Or, possibly, he purposefully left them there as a constant reminder.
“Ah… I missed the beer here.” Tan finished his tankard. “I was starting to think all alcohol tasted of goat spit. Don’t think I could’ve lasted another couple nights with Lady Luck’s muck.”
“The taste didn’t stop you drink drinking it,” Caleb said.
Tan shrugged. “A drink is still a drink.”
“And a drunk is always a drunk.”
“Hmm…” Tan paused mid-sip. “I prefer to think of myself as a… student of the states of man’s consciousness. You know… someone who examines something. What’s the term Roman?”
“A scientist.”
“Aye! That’s it. A scientist of inebriation.”
“Just don’t study too hard tonight,” Roman said. “We’ve got business to discuss.”
Tan pulled a sulking face. “What’s the rush? Is one night off too much for you?”
“This can’t wait. We’re going after Candle.”
“Who?”
Roman sighed. “The man Burrstone mentioned, before he, you know, killed himself. Honestly, Tan, do you ever pay attention to anything?”
“I try not to. Besides, we don’t need another case, Boss. We’ve got enough to keep us busy. We’ve got two decent leads on the BX34 case, and my informant—”
“Put that on hold. This is our new priority.”
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “You reckon he’s that dangerous?”
“I do.”
Caleb grunted, returning to his drink, and Roman’s gaze wandered over Sparks. The boy leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, obviously fatigued from yesterday’s events. It would pass by tomorrow; he had only been activated for a couple minutes, after all. Up close, Roman couldn’t ignore just how wrong an Adrenalite appeared. There was no doubt Sparks was a boy — still in his mid-teens — but the toll of being an Adrenalite was obvious. The bags beneath his eyes. The wrinkles forming on his forehead. It was a disorienting blend of young and old.
He knew why Tan and Ruby had wanted him in the team. They wanted to prove to Roman that not all Adrenalites were monsters. It’s not working so far, he thought as he recalled last night events. The boy had been laughing while he nearly killed another of his kind. Laughing as he fought like no one Roman had ever seen before. It wasn’t human to fight like that.
“Roman.” Ruby’s voice pulled Roman from his contemplation.
“Hmm?”
“You were talking about Candle?”
Ah. Right. Roman summarized his conversation with Juliette, although he left out the part about Ashton’s serum. He didn’t want to talk about that in front of Sparks. Roman doubted Sparks would be receptive to the idea of being deactivated forever.
The team listened in silence. By the time Roman was done Tan had finished his drink and was pouring another. Ruby carefully fletched an arrow, while Caleb’s face held its usual stony blank expression. Sparks stayed slumped in his chair, eyes still closed.
“Well shit,’ Tan said. “This is more than a little… unconventional.”
“He escaped the wind farms?” Ruby asked. “Even with help, I didn’t think that was possible.”
Caleb lit a rado-weed cigarette. “Something isn’t right here. I wouldn’t trust Juliette with cleaning my boots. I certainly don’t trust her with this.”
Roman frowned at the cigarette. He already felt suffocated by the smoke inside the pub, but he knew better than to ask Caleb to put it out. “I don’t trust her either. She’s a two-faced, cowardly, sack of damp rat-shit. But even if she’s not sharing everything, this is still a serious threat. And she’s not an idiot—”
“She is,” Ruby muttered.
“—who would ignore what we can do. She needs Adrenalites captured, and, because she doesn’t do enough about it herself, she needs us.”
“Then why didn’t she come to us straight away?” Ruby asked. “Why wait for us to hear about Candle ourselves?”
“Because she is hiding something. We just don’t know what yet.”
“Do we need to get involved?” Tan asked. “This isn’t something we know we can handle.”
“We’re taking this job,” Roman said firmly. He turned to each of his crew in turn. “Listen, I know none of us like the Ministries,” he said. “I know we’d all feel pretty satisfied seeing them collapse. But if that happens, what do you think will happen to the rest of Legacy? Who else would run the granaries? The wind farms? Hell, who else would pay us for hunting down rogues?”
Sparks eyes briefly flickered open.
So, not asleep then. He is interested.
“We need to do this,” Roman continued. “Or, at least, I need to do this.”
Ruby sighed. “You should know I’m going to help, for better or worse. I’ve stuck around for all your past insanities, haven’t I?”
Roman smiled.
“I’m with you, Boss,” Tan said. “If I didn’t stick around you folks, I might have to make some new friends. And I can’t be bothered with that shit.”
Caleb rubbed his broad jaw. “I don’t know, Roman. I like getting paid, but money’s useless when you’re not alive to spend it.”
“If we succeed, you’ll get half my share of the earnings,” Roman said.
Caleb chuckled. “Now we’re talking. I’m in.”
Money speaks to the ex-mercenary. No surprises there. Caleb was simple: he did what paid best. Roman appreciated that — as long as hunting Adrenalites was the most profitable business in Legacy, there was no doubting Caleb’s loyalty.
Unlike Sparks.
Roman turned to the boy. “What about you?”
Sparks’ eyes opened lazily. “Let me get this straight, old man. Candle wants to bring down the ministries. The very same ministries who did this to me.” He turned his head so Roman could see the tattoo imprinted on his neck. “The same bastards who said I was someone else’s property. The same motherfuckers who wrote the law that says I’m not allowed to walk the streets alone. And you want me to help you stop him.”