“Yes. I do.”
“And what do I get out of it?”
Roman didn’t know what to say. Apart from threats, there was nothing he could offer Sparks.
Ruby answered for him. “What do you want?”
“I want… “ Sparks paused, tapping his fingers against the table while he considered. “I want to choose when I get activated. So, if I do this for you, then I want you to trust me enough to let me carry my own adrenaline needles.”
Roman opened his mouth to say it was impossible – that no one had ever trusted an Adrenalite with his own activation needles – but he quickly shut it when he saw the look Ruby gave him. He glared back at her. Could she actually be considering this?
“Why would you want that?” Ruby asked.
“Because you brought me into this team to fight for you,” Sparks said, “but then you’ve done everything possible to not let me fight. I know you wouldn’t have activated me last night if you had any other choice. And I’m sick of it. I’m a fighter, and I’m damn good at it. That’s why I want to choose when I’m activated — I want to be sure I do get a chance to fight.”
If Roman refused, that might inspire Sparks to betray them and join Candle. And if that happened, Roman would have to kill him.
Caleb was the first to speak. “If the security ministry finds out that we do this, it wouldn’t be good.”
Sparks laughed. “What are they going to do, set a bounty on me? You’re the only real bounty hunters in this city.”
Roman turned to Ruby. He suspected he knew exactly what she was thinking. She wanted him to agree. She believed Sparks could be trusted, that Roman should give him a chance.
And Roman didn’t want to disappoint her. Anyone but her.
“I’ll think about it,” he said at last.
Sparks opened his mouth to speak, but Roman held up a hand to silence him. He didn’t want to talk about this any more than he had to. “Tan, you’re going to find and search through Spencer’s home — where the militia were killed,” Roman said. “He had to leave some kind of clue about where he was going next.”
“Sure thing, Boss. Investigating is the best way to cure a hangover.”
“Ruby, you’ll be working with me,” Roman continued. “We’re going to set up a meeting with Gavin tomorrow. That bastard always knows something.”
Ruby nodded.
Roman turned to Sparks and Caleb, frowning. He didn’t want Sparks involved with this, but that would mean leaving Caleb out too. And, as always, he needed all the help he could get.
“Caleb, use Sparks to get in contact with other Adrenalites,” Roman said. “If Burrstone knew about Candle, it’s likely others will as well. I want to know everything.”
“So you do need my help.” Sparks thrust an angry finger at Roman. “But you can’t promise me anything in return. Why should I do this for you?”
“Because, in case you’ve forgotten, I own you.”
“Then use me for what I’m best at: fighting. Give me my own needle and I’ll—”
“Listen to me, Sparks,” Roman growled. “Do you know how many innocent people in this city have been killed by Adrenalites like you. Do you truly understand why we hunt rogues? It’s because each and every one has found a way to activate themselves and then slaughtered everyone they came across. So, if you expect me to just give you access to adrenaline, you’re an idiot. If you want me to trust you with this, you better earn that trust. And you can start by getting me some damn information about Candle.”
“I thought I would have earned your trust last night.”
“It’ll take more than violence to convince me. And that’s the end of this discussion.” Roman looked around the table. “Everyone clear on their jobs?”
Everyone nodded, included Sparks, albeit sullenly.
“Thanks.” Roman stood, tossed a couple coins on the table, said “Goodnight all,” and left.
Once outside, he took two deep breaths, glad to be free of the bitter tang of rado-weed. There was a chill to the evening breeze. He wrapped his coat around himself tightly and headed south, towards the Haven, to arrange a meeting with Gavin.
Roman hadn’t seen Gavin since he had brought Sparks from him. In all honesty, he had hoped he would never see the bastard ever again. Because whenever Gavin was involved things tended to end, at best, rather violently.
Then again, Roman reckoned the same thing could be said about himself.
PART TWO
The Haven
05
Sparks skipped along the sidewalk, stepping as close as possible to each crack in the footpath, but without ever touching one – a good fighter always practiced his footwork. He whistled a tune that he had learned at the Haven. All the kids used to sing it before a fight, for good luck. Not that Sparks ever needed luck.
But still, he whistled it today, as he strode down the street with Caleb behind him and the sinking sun in front of him, because he was on his way to a fight. And some old habits never died.
Roman had ordered Caleb to get Sparks in contact with other Adrenalites, so Caleb had set up a private pit fight for Sparks. That would give Sparks a reason to talk to the other fighters, and hopefully one of them would know something about Candle. Sparks suspected that Roman wouldn’t approve of Sparks entering a pit fight. But fuck Roman. He wouldn’t have to find out. He would be busy at the Haven this evening, most likely watching a different pit fight.
As for finding information on Candle, Sparks hoped it wouldn’t be too hard. He was a fighter, not an investigator. Maybe if the Adrenalites didn’t volunteer any information, he would just have to beat some out of his opponent, after he won his fight. Because of course Sparks was going to win. He never doubted that.
The few pedestrians they passed keep their distance. An older man flinched away, eyes averted, as Sparks stepped too close. Most walked at a hurried pace, eager to return home before the last of the light faded. Sparks despised them. Boring people living boring lives. No fight left in them.
They didn’t know how it felt to be activated, to be truly alive.
Sparks spun around, walking backwards over the potholes. He was still careful to keep each foot on the edges of the cracks. “Wonderful evening for a romantic stroll, isn’t it?” he asked Caleb.
A trail of rado-weed smoke swirled in Caleb’s wake, and a leather satchel hung over his broad shoulders. “I hope you know, Sparks, I don’t fuck on the first date.”
“A kiss then?”
“Only if you’re the perfect gentlemen. You’d have to take me somewhere a bit more… homely.”
Sparks laughed. “Well, aren’t you a fussy mo’fo. You’ve got everything you need for romance here: rubble, cracks… fine artwork.” He gestured to the nearest wall, where the outline of male genitalia had been carved onto the brick.
“I’m practically shitting wonder and affection,” Caleb said.
“I often have that effect on people. I’m pretty much a—”
“Natural laxative?”
“Oh come on Caleb, you know I was going to say an angel of grace and charm.”
Caleb snorted. “An angel, eh? Where do you get off? I swear that sometimes—” He stopped mid-step. “Is that a cat?”
Sparks halted beside him. He had nearly stood on a mangled cat corpse. Three eyes, six legs, completely void of fur. A true mutie cat. Radiation had played its creative games with this one.
Sparks hopped over the corpse. “I promised you all the romantic activities in the book, and a date isn’t complete without a barely recognizable cat carcass.”