The v Girl (13 page)

Chapter 1
8

Near the passenger station ruins
there’s a two story saloon. The round tables are full of men playing cards, and at the large wooden counter some local girls sit with their legs spread, showing their undies. Or lack thereof. The soldiers won’t come before the curfew because they rarely mingle with the local customers. It smells of alcohol, tobacco, and sweat.

The canteen wasn’t supposed to be this shrine of perdition. Starville volunteers built it to serve the Nat troops in a non-sexual way. Nowadays it’s frequented by soldiers and local males who might not have enough to eat but always spare something for gambling, drinks, and sex.

Women aren’t allowed unless they’re willing to give services. Under my closed cloak, I can pass for an unmarried young man searching for visitant services.

I don’t need to scan the room to know Aleksey must be upstairs. I let Poncho lead the way to the wooden staircase. He sniffs the doors along the mildew-smelling corridor that is lit by torches and stops at one. I hesitate, but before I knock, the door opens.

Three Indian-looking cops stand in the threshold holding drinks. The moment they see me, recognition shows in their faces.

I force myself to sound confident. “I’m looking for Prince Aleksey.”

They exchange looks, and I swear they’re trying to suppress smiles. I turn to leave.

“Don’t go, he’s here,” says the oldest one. When they walk past me, I hear them murmur something like
“
Fürst Donnerkeil
.”

I ignore the myriad of stares I get as well as the fact that all conversation stopped the moment I set foot inside. He’s sitting at a round table. Two Accord cops and a soldier are with him. He’s brooding as usual and scowling, looking at his cards and ignoring everyone.

Aleksey’s eyes can’t hide his surprise and disapproval when he looks up. His face turns a furious red that I know matches his present mood.

His voice is full of contained fury. “What are you doing here?”

Glad to see you, too, Aleksey.
“I’d like a word with you before you go.”

For a brief moment, he looks at me like he’s trying to convey a message with his eyes. Then his eyes turn to his cards and his voice comes out curtly. “I’m busy. Go back to the clinic, Miss Velez.”

The cops and soldiers who are with Aleksey chuckle, but their laughter stops when they see Aleksey’s glare.

I force my voice to sound confident and firm. “There’s a problem at the clinic.”

His voice is impatient although his face remains expressionless. “Not now. Go!”

I freeze on the spot, wearing an incredulous look. I feel unwanted and betrayed. We’re not supposed to fraternize, but can’t he at least be politely indifferent? Especially in present company?

It’s then when I look around the room. There are two more round tables where Accord cops sit playing cards, some stealthily stealing glances at me. On an enormous bed in a distant corner, a Patriot visitant straddles a barely dressed cop who looks as though he’s passed out. She wears an orange unitard. Her blue eyes shoot me a brief scornful look. I recognize her; she “visited” Aleksey during our first night at the clinic.

She moves to sit on the bed’s edge with her legs spread open and asks indifferently. “Who’s next?”

The lower part of her garment has an open zipper that reveals her most intimate parts. How many times has this zipper gone up and down tonight? Has Aleksey used this woman today? The thought makes me frown. I thought he was … different.

One of the cops gets up. “My turn.”

“And then you’ll serve General Fürst, Coco,” says the soldier. Coco’s expression becomes hopeful. She’s extremely eager to serve Aleksey.

My nose wrinkles in disgust. Fury and disappointment run through my veins, corroding my thoughts.

Aleksey growls without looking at me. “Are you deaf? Go away!”

In a heartbeat, I’m out of the canteen and running through Starville’s streets with Poncho alongside me.

When I’m passing under the Judges Avenue overpass, I bump into a drunken man who tries to start a fight. I try to avoid him, but he’s persistent. He throws a jab at my face, but I evade him and use his momentum to bring his chest against my elbow making him lose his breath. When I use all my strength to kick his heels, the man tumbles to the ground with a loud thud.

During the fight, my hood’s fallen, and my cloak opened. My long bushy mane is on full display. The man looks at it shocked. “Holy crap! You’re a girl!”

Did he think I was a man? So girls can’t be fighters? Are we only brides, baby carriers, or recruits? Or worse, visitants? I have to suppress the urge to kick his balls and instead keep running until my chest hurts. The ache in my lungs distracts me from other pains.

A monumental hand stops me. Of course, this bastard can catch up to me using minimal effort. Aleksey’s voice isn’t breathy, but furious. “Could you stop that?”

I retrieve my hand forcefully and glare at him fighting to get air into my lungs. “Stop what!?”

“Fraternizing with the enemy in public. In a canteen of all places.”

“I thought you said you didn’t care.”

“I don’t care if it’s
me
. I won’t risk
you
. My unit won’t dare to betray us, but there was a soldier in there.”

His enormous hand reaches for my face, but I step back and resume my running.

He trots beside me. “What do you think you were doing there?”

“Your proposal. You told me you’d arrange Olmo’s care in the New Norfolk’s Accord hospital in exchange for—”

He turns to me as though in surprise, his eyes shining. “Yes. As long as Dr. Velez goes with him and both prove their neutrality through a polygraph test.”

I look at him contemptuously. “I came to say yes. You didn’t have to be so rude.”

For a fleeting moment he looks … happy? I must have gotten it wrong because his voice recovers its angry tone. “I had to. Didn’t you notice they were leering at you? Never go to that place again. ”

“Don’t tell me what do.” My voice reflects my anger. “This couldn’t wait. You’ll go to New Vegas soon, which I had to find out by hearsay. When were you going to tell me?”

He’s taken aback at my fury, but his voice is harsh. “Why would I tell you?”

I suppress a gasp. It sounds like
who are you to receive any explanations?
Turning my back on him I dart toward the clinic staircase.

I manage to go up some of the steps when he grabs my waist and forces me to turn. His voice is kind. “What I meant is that I’m not used to giving explanations. I just received my commission an hour ago. I didn’t think you’d care.”

I’m slightly taller because of the step I’m standing on. My anger is gone, replaced by a sudden shyness. I look down. He’s making me nervous, but I try to sound nonchalant. “Aren’t we both lone wolves and voyeurmates? That’s almost as being friends, and friends tell each other things.”

“Friends.” He seems to savor the word, apparently not finding it to his liking. His thumb on my chin forces me to look up. “Ours has to be a discreet arrangement.”

Electricity washes
through me as I stare at his blue eyes. “A secret?”

His voice becomes silkily sexy. “Not exactly. Let’s say we should not be conspicuous around the wrong people.”

His face is getting closer and closer. I gulp. Not two kisses in a day. It’d be too much.

And yet my eyes are starting to close. My lips part.

An uninvited and unwelcome thought overcomes me just when our lips are about to touch. His rudeness at the canteen. The visitant’s beautiful, artificial face.
No!

I disengage from his grip and climb up at top speed.

By the time I reach the courtyard, he’s with me again. He looks at me with a hint of puzzlement in his blue eyes.

“You can’t be rude one moment and kiss me the next. Not even if we have to pretend we’re perfect strangers.”

He scowls. “You don’t know how dangerous that place is. I was anxious for you to get away from danger, and you stubbornly stayed. I would have lost it if someone had tried to attack you. I was enraged, worried, and … deeply uncomfortable.”

His usual
I-don’t-give-a-damn
attitude mismatches his words. “You? Uncomfortable?”

“My unit was killing time, so I had to keep an eye on them. But I don’t frequent the canteen, and I don’t like to use visitants. That you of all people found me there was uncomfortable.”

“That woman ... did you use her services today?” Damn! Now he’ll think I’m jealous.

Aleksey seems genuinely pleased by my question. “No. In fact,” his eyes travel up and down my body in a sensual manner. “I won’t ever require visitants’ services again. I’ve lost interest in the opposite sex.” He tilts up my chin forcing me to look at him. “With one exception.”

I don’t know why relief washes through me. Should I believe him? I’ll test his honesty. I can’t hold up his intense gaze. “Have you ever been with her?” I ask casually, knowing the answer already.

“Once, my second night here. Never since.”

The only acceptable option now is to believe both statements. I know he’s truthful on the former so I’ll buy the latter. But I think he might believe that my words are rooted in jealousy, and I want to say something that will erase that impression. Perhaps a joke?

I smile broadly at him. “It seemed to me you were playing tug-of-whore with your man and you were winning.”

Aleksey shakes his head and walks me to my room. Only the slightest twitch of his mouth indicates he found my stupid attempt to sound nonchalant funnier than my joke itself. No doubt, an older man like himself must find my sense of humor too juvenile and lame. My cheeks get very red, but then I remember that I have no reason to try to impress this guy.

At the entrance of my room, I turn to look at him. “So, we have a deal now. Your first proposal. You’ll get Olmo, Azzy, and Dad out of here.”

“I’ll make time for the necessary paperwork during my commission. They’ll need a temporary visa to stay in New Norfolk. It’ll take a while.”

I purse my lips nervously. “You said that in return you want my company during nights in a non-sexual way.”

He exhales deeply. “I’ve changed my mind.”

My stomach does a somersault, and my voice turns desperate. “Don’t please. Olmo needs help!”

“I meant that you don’t have to offer anything in return. I started arrangements, not knowing whether you would accept my offer or not.”

“But if you’re putting your own money into this, I want to pay you back. My dad suggested thinking about this as a nurse job.”

He frowns. “When did you discuss this with him?”

“The day after you proposed this. Dad’s an optimist so he thinks we won’t sleep in the same bed. He thinks you’re a gentleman.”

He runs his hand through his long hair. “Before proposing anything to you, I discussed the plan with him and he said he wouldn’t make any decision without you. I thought that an exchange of services would appeal to you better than if I offered you charity but …” He pauses and looks sincerely kind. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I want to. I need a bit of … company. It might be a good memory to take with me when the troops recruit me.”

“They won’t recruit you.”

I won’t argue with him. It’s always better to expect the worst. If the worst happens, you are prepared for it; if it doesn’t, you get surprised and become grateful. Isn’t that what’s happening right now? I’m greatly surprised. The man I considered a soldier, a rapist, has become an ally.

“I’ll give you the key. You’ll start tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to be absent? What difference does it make if I start when you come back?”

He gives me a coy half-smile along with the key. “Roads are dangerous. Any danger I face will be easier to overcome if I know you’ll be waiting for me.”

My hand burns where his fingers touched it. “I … don’t know … what I should wear.”

“Whatever you wear to sleep. Remember, we’ll be just sleeping. Our arrangement is not about sexual contact, but the human touch.”

The human touch again. That concept that he refuses to explain. I steer the conversation toward more practical issues.

“I wonder how a soldier sleeps.”

He smiles coyly. “I prefer to sleep half-covered by my cape.” Military capes have special properties against the temperature changes but it seems he’s hinting something else.

We remain quietly looking at each other’s eyes. A pang of nervousness hits me. I drop my eyes and force myself to speak. “Don’t you have a vehicle waiting for you?”

“Yes, at the canteen.” His hands reach to touch my face, but he retrieves it before touching me. His face is an adorable mix of manly confidence with just the right hint of vulnerability. “It’s better if you go to bed. Sleep tight, Lila.”

Lila.
How intimate and melodic my name sounds in his raspy voice. I want to tell him to have a good trip, to be careful, to not get killed. I want to convey to him that I need him to return, not a cliché “see you” expression.