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“I decided to let you have the fun,” Ruby said. “Besides, I didn’t want to touch them. They looked filthy.”

Roman raised an eyebrow at her scruffy leather jacket, stained with dirt and dust. “Since when has getting your hands dirty ever bothered you?”

“Since I figured that you could to do the grimy work for me.”

“I thought you worked for me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

They turned into an alleyway. A cat glared at them from deeper in the passage. As they approached it darting away, hissing. Roman stepped over a sleeping beggar who reeked of piss and booze. The man gave a soft grunt, then resumed snoring. An overfilled dumpster blocked half the alleys exit. Roman crouched in its shadow and slowly stuck his head out, inspecting the street.

“And there she is,” he whispered.

Lady Luck. It might have been a hotel before the Days of Fire, bold and majestic, with bright signs enticing customers. Now Roman would have assumed it abandoned if not for the bouncer outside or the thin beams of light visible in the cracks of its window boards.

Lady Luck was a cesspool of the city’s filthiest bandits, criminals, and mercenaries, all crammed together to drink, gamble and spend their ill-obtained credits. If the four Ministries kept any semblance of law and order in the streets of Legacy, it didn’t reach this far.

A man stumbled down the road, heading for Lady Luck’s doors. Roman couldn’t make out the brief exchange of words, but he noted how the bouncer’s right hand never left the machete hanging from his belt while the other hand conducted a rough body search of the newcomer. A satisfied grunt came from the bouncer, who then opened the rotten wooden doors and ushered the man inside.

Roman leaned back into the darkness of the alleyway. “Everything looks normal.”

Ruby nodded. Her right hand kept twitching back to her hip, where a quiver of arrows normally hung — she wasn’t the kind of person who liked being unarmed. “You’re nervous,” she said.

“So are you.”

“I’m not the one trying to pull my own hair out.”

Roman hastily stopped running his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine,” he muttered, turning back to the street and away from this topic of conversation.

But Ruby wasn’t so easily discouraged. “You still don’t trust having Sparks on the team,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

Roman grimaced. “You know how I feel about him.”

“Just because he’s an Adrenalite doesn’t mean he’ll go rogue.”

“They all go rogue eventually. It’s in their nature. They’re not human, they’re monsters.”

Ruby shook her head. “He’s just a kid.”

“I’ve seen him fight. I don’t think any kid is capable of what he can do.”

“Of course he can fight. That’s why we hired him.”

“That’s why you made me hire him,” Roman corrected her. “And I still think it was a shit idea.”

“But you did it.”

And how I hate myself for it. There was only one reason Roman had agreed to recruit an Adrenalite: Ruby had threatened to leave the team if he didn’t. And, as far as Roman was concerned, that wasn’t an option.

“You know why we need him,” Ruby continued. “Our luck can’t last. Eventually, another job is going to go to hell. And this time, we need a backup plan that doesn’t let one of us die.”

Roman’s frown deepened at the mention of Harry. He had been a good man, and a good friend. He didn’t deserve to die as he did. “You’re right about one thing, at least. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

Ruby put her hand on his arm. “There was nothing you could have done.”

“I’m the team’s leader. His death is my responsibility.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault.”

Roman pulled away from her. “I got revenge, at least,” he muttered. “That’s what matters.”

“You did. But unless you want another reason for revenge, promise me that you will activate Sparks — if we need to.”

Roman reached into his jacket and touched the two glass syringes resting there. They were cold, and, despite their lightness, they felt impossibly heavy. “You know how risky that is.”

“It’s a risk we have to live with.”

“I’m more concerned about dying from it.” Roman leaned back against the dumpster. But damn it, she’s right. If Sparks becomes our last option… Then we’re fucked either way.

“I promise,” he said.

* * *

They didn’t have to wait long before Caleb and Sparks arrived. Roman stuck his head out from the alley and watched the pair approach Lady Luck. Sparks’ short figure looked tiny next to Caleb’s massive silhouette.

“They’re early,” Roman said.

“Fortunate,” Ruby whispered back. “The weather won’t hold back much longer.”

The first drops of rain were beginning to fall. Roman felt a drop strike his cheek, running down his unshaven chin. He shook his head, dislodging water from his tangle of hair.

Raised voices interrupted his thoughts. “—don’t care if he’s registered or not. We don’t allow—” A gruff voice Roman didn’t recognize. Must be the bouncer.

“We’re only after a drink. No trouble.” Caleb’s low, gravelly tone.

“Well, you’re looking for it.” The scraping of metal — the machete sliding from the bouncer’s belt.

“There’s no need for that.”

“Then show me your backside and fuck off.”

Sparks’ younger voice: “You want to see the goods? I didn’t realize this was that kind of establishment, but I can’t judge a man for his tastes.”

“You little bastard!”

Roman rose to his feet and strode out of the alley. Ruby joined in step beside him.

The bouncer was a giant of a man. Despite the cold, he wore only a woollen vest, leaving his hulking biceps visible. He held his machete in a hand that had a sixth finger growing from the back of his wrist.

But if the bouncer was a giant, Caleb was a mountain. He stood over eight feet tall. A barrel of a chest, arms thick as posts, shoulders so broad they very nearly buried his neck. With close-cut hair and a thick jaw, his face suited his form. He stared down at the machete with a bemused expression.

Behind Caleb, Sparks bounced from foot to foot. Roman tensed at the sight of the boy. Barely sixteen years old, yet there’s no hint of innocence about him. Sparks’ ragged brown hair hung low over green eyes and an acne-covered face. He had excessively long arms that never quite stayed still. His neck moved in erratic motions, and the tattoo etched into its side danced with the movement.

“We’re thirsty men,” Caleb said. “You wouldn’t come between a man and his beer would you?”

Ruby ignored the tense scene, boldly striding up the stone steps, Roman a pace behind her. Only at the last moment did the bouncer’s attention turn to them.

“Hold up there, Miss.”

Even without seeing her face, Roman knew the kind of smile Ruby was flashing. The kind that made men do brainless things. Ruby’s voice was as smooth as glass as she lied: “It’s okay, handsome, we’re not here for any trouble.”

Roman opened his coat and smiled reassuringly. He kept his arm held at a careful angle that ensured his gun and needles stayed hidden.

“Wait up!” The bouncer held up his free hand to stop them, but as he did Caleb stepped forward threateningly, and the guard’s attention reverted to him. Ruby seized the moment, slipping past and opening the door.

A second bouncer stepped through it.