Two Can Play (Entangled Ignite) (15 page)

“This addition to the Lounge experience makes us so proud of you,” Nigel said, leaning forward to be picked up by the microphone. “We congratulate you, Dome Commander, and honor you for your excellence.”

Rena felt all eyes on her. “Everyone did their part and more.” Rena motioned toward the assembled fighters. “We were a team.”

“This does not surprise us,” Nigel said. “We saw exceptional skill.” He smiled down at Naomi, who nodded up at him, her hair shining a golden red.
She sees me as her daughter
. Naomi’s small smile and green eyes seemed as familiar to Rena as if they were related. Maybe in Seattle, Rena would meet her face-to-face. She could hardly contain her excitement.

“Five hundred thousand points to all,” Nigel announced.

Everyone gasped and clapped, grinning at one another. Rena saw Rachel count her fingers, then squeal. She would jump a level. Very cool.

“I finish at noon tomorrow,” Gage said to Rena after everyone went back to what they were doing. “I figure we can swing by my place for my gear on the way out of town.”

“Sounds good.” She’d told him after yesterday’s practice that she’d decided to go with him on the bike. Alternate transport was not uncommon. Managers with the cash went by air. She and Gage would sleep in separate motel rooms to allay any urges that might flare, and she’d be sure not to wear her leather skirt. She was going for the experience, for the thinking time, for the adventure. What was the worst that could happen?

Chapter Ten

At noon the next day, Rena hitched her backpack higher up the shoulder of her black leather jacket as she waited for Gage to bring the bike to the front of the Lounge. Gage had told her to stay away from leather, but it was all she had to cut the wind. Thinking of his reaction, though, did make her smile.

The cans of E she’d brought rattled among the few items of clothing she’d packed.

She heard the ferocious blat of the Commando before she saw it round the corner, fierce and sexy as hell. Excitement zinged at the thought of having all that power beneath her again.

Then there was Gage. Powerful, fierce, and as hot as his bike.

“Want to drive?” he asked, starting to dismount.

“Once we hit the highway.” The seat was warm beneath her when she climbed on behind him.

Gage wove through traffic, the Commando as responsive as if it were attached to his nervous system. A half hour up the freeway he took an exit into the middle of nowhere, following a dirt road she never would have spotted on her own. The scenery was great. This spring had been wet, so the desert was a wonder of new growth—white and purple and yellow flowers everywhere, rain-swollen cacti blooming like mad, and just enough breeze to cut the burn from a sun gearing up for its killing season.

Gage slowed to keep down the dust and wound among low hills, the bike steady on every turn, smoothing out the big bumps, but letting them feel the road beneath them at the same time.

At one point, Gage stopped abruptly so a family of quail could skim across the road into a tangle of mesquite and sage down the hill to their left.

“This used to be a wash. Animals cross here all the time.”

Animals? Say rattlesnakes…scorpions…coyotes?
She hoped they all hunted at night. She wasn’t big on the wilderness.

A hundred yards farther along was a gravel drive to a round-cornered silver trailer that looked like something from last century’s idea of space age. It was tucked against the rocky hills, now furry with green. Except for a canvas awning and patio set, the trailer looked ready to drive off any minute. Or maybe lift off like a flying saucer. Rena climbed off the bike, her legs buzzing from the vibration, her cheeks windburned. Except for bird noises, it was so quiet here she couldn’t even hear cars on the highway.

Gage turned off the bike and rocked it onto its stand, then held the trailer’s door for her. The trailer was neat and smelled of oranges, leather, and Gage’s cologne. It was crowded with books—on shelves, stacked on the floor, on the table beneath a chessboard. “So you read, too,” she said, waving at the evidence.

“I’ll grab my duffel.”

The walls held carved masks, Indian baskets, and paintings, and there was a plump cactus on the kitchen ledge. Rena leaned over a sofa covered in a bright Mexican blanket to study a cartoon-style painting of a terrified hound clinging to the back of a horse on the run, eyes wild, ears flapping. She laughed, then noticed the signature.
Beth
.

Gage’s steps behind her made the trailer shiver. He had a green duffel over one shoulder, a backpack on his back.

“This is by your friend,” she said of the painting. “The one who goes by L.E. in the Lounge, right?”

Gage colored. “Yeah.”

Oh, he’d definitely slept with the girl, no question. She had a sudden thought. “You think she’s in Seattle?”

“She might be. Let’s roll.” He did not want to talk about the girl, which gave Rena a funny jolt. She felt…left out.
So stupid
. She stepped outside to be sure he didn’t notice her reaction.

Gage poked at the soil of an aloe plant on a ledge, filled a glass with water, and poured it into the pot. At the door, he looked around, as if he were saying good-bye. She wondered again why he wanted the Life. The trailer looked settled and cozy. Every object had been carefully chosen. He’d made the trailer a home. He locked up, then bungee-tied his duffel to the Commando.

“You’ll miss this place,” she said.

“It’s where I sleep.” He shrugged, not looking up.

She didn’t quite buy it, but she let it alone, climbing onto the bike. She drove, winding around the hills until they left the dirt path for the asphalt, then the highway, eager to fly, Gage at her back.

…

Taking a deep, secret sniff of Rena’s coconut hair, Gage settled in to enjoy the ride. He’d liked the sight of her in his trailer. He could picture her curled up with a stack of his books…chopping chilies for his famous omelets…making love in his comfortable bed.

No points for repeat sex
, he reminded himself. He was crazy to think about Rena in a post-Lounge world. He had important things to deal with before such mindless fantasies had any place in his head. He had finally reached the last leg of his bizarre journey to find his sister. If he were lucky, he’d see Beth tomorrow night, talk to her, and be headed back the next morning with her instead of Rena on the bike.

His reporter curiosity roused, he’d done some research into the Blackstones and NiGo. LexisNexis searches netted two stories he didn’t think would help his case—though there was no mention of Ji Jin, their adopted son and genius programmer, or the other Koreans on whose indentured servitude they’d built their empire.

Recent articles in gaming magazines and e-zines complained of the delays in the release of
EverLife II
. The stakes were high, since the subscription rate would double. The message was clear:
EverLife II
better be worth it or NiGo would crash and burn.

Another piece caught his eyes from the
Seattle Times
, this one intriguing. The reporter mentioned the Seattle Lounge in a story about neighborhood crime. Evidently, NiGo was considering selling the place to D&G Enterprises out of Detroit, an alleged cover business for drug interests. His research dead-ended there. He’d follow up when he had more time.

The Blackstones were selling a Lounge to a drug lord?
If that rumor was true, it sounded like a sure sign of money trouble. Gage had put a call in to the reporter, leaving the URL of the
News Day News
article to intrigue the guy, and suggested getting together when Gage hit the city. Learning more wouldn’t hurt.

For now, he was on the road. By five they’d reached Vegas, where they grabbed greasy burgers at a diner where the din of slot machines filled the air.

Over a cherry shake, Rena talked through the Dome report she would give at the managers meeting and how best to pitch Girl Power, nervous after she’d been shot down in the Phoenix meeting. She was so animated, her eyes bright, her cheeks pink, strands of wind-blown hair making her look fresh from bed. He hoped she’d get what she wanted with those clowns.

He liked her better out in the world. No longer the fierce Dome warrior or fervent cultist, she was warmer, more relaxed, more real—just a woman on a road trip having a good time. That would only last until she hit the Seattle Lounge, of course, when she’d revert to her warrior cultist self again.

He was putting away his wallet, ready to leave, when she said, “So, this Beth girl broke your heart? Is that what happened?”

“It’s…complicated,” he finally said, not wanting to get into this with her.

“That’s your first mistake—letting it get complicated. You have to keep it simple.”

“You mean sex for points? That kind of simple?” He smiled.

“Absolutely,” she said, completely serious. “Lifers are friends and family both. Sex is fun and all, but you can’t get exclusive and possessive and jealous. That’s not the Lifer way.”

“Right.” He had no grounds to argue with her, now that he thought about it. Take away the points idea and he’d been having sex like a Lifer since he hit puberty—kept it light, never sticking around long enough for anyone to get hurt. For family he had Beth. His friends were reporters, though they talked work, not personal stuff. He was basically a loner. He’d been closest to Beth, though clearly she hadn’t felt the same.

Right now, looking into Rena’s pool-blue eyes and earnest face, he wasn’t sure he wanted Lifer sex any more—in or out of the Lounge. He was tired of the down-deep gnawing feeling he carried with him all the time. He was lonely. He’d seen the same thing in Rena’s eyes. She’d fought it by joining Lounge Life. He’d just been living with it.

Gage jabbed his straw into the ice at the bottom of his soda glass. “What about hooking up with one person for good? Don’t you think that’s valid?”

She looked him dead on. “That’s not how the Life works.” No, the Blackstones wanted their minions completely dependent on them, with no divided loyalties. If Lifers paired off, they might not be so easy to manipulate.

“Not now, but the Life can change, right? You’re pushing for equal rights for girls. Maybe couples need rights, too.”

She stared at him, then grinned. “You’re jerking my chain, right?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Of course you are. Very funny. You are weird, you know that?” She moved uneasily on her bench, her pretty mouth tense, so he knew what he’d said bothered her. At some level, she knew the Life didn’t match the rhetoric. She was a smart girl. What would she be like with a clear head and a decent life outside the Lounge?

“Weird is okay as long as it won’t get me kicked out,” he said.

“Who knows? Maybe the Life needs weird people.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

She burst out laughing, a big, open laugh, the first he’d heard from her, and it made him want to make her do it again.

Noticing his stare, Rena stopped laughing. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s nice to see you laugh. You’re wound pretty tight in the Lounge.”

“Yeah?” She considered that. “Maybe this trip was a good idea then.”

“I think it was.” They just looked at each other for a few seconds. She was working it out, wondering what to make of him and her reaction to him. He liked how busy she got behind her eyes, how she went still and deep to think things through.

The rattle of melting ice collapsing in his glass startled them both. Gage realized they’d been staring for a while in a moony eye-lock. “We’d better roll.”

“Sure.” She flushed. Pink was a good color on her. She still didn’t trust him, but she seemed easier with him. Instead of bristling over every wrong word, she listened to him. Instead of mentally shoving him away, she went still, let the feeling settle in. She had a great smile. And that laugh. He wanted more of that.

He took over driving, speeding on the curves, showing off the bike’s grip on the road, grinning when Rena whooped in delight. The bike seemed to speak to her soul as it did his and that made him happy. The sun was setting when they reached the marker he’d aimed to reach before dark.

“There’s a motel this way?” Rena asked.

“Hang on.” He grinned, glad she couldn’t see his face. She was in for a surprise. At a flat, sandy area near the creek, he found a fire pit beneath some pines and stopped the bike.

“What are you doing?” She looked around. “We’re camping?” She sounded horrified.

“You don’t like sleeping under the stars?”

“I’ve never, um, done it.” Her eyes flicked everywhere, panicked, though she kept her voice calm.

“You’ll love it,” he said, pleased that he’d thrown her a little. From his duffel, he pulled out the sleeping bags and tossed her one.

She caught it and stood there, stunned.

“You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed. “Why would I be scared?”

“Good. Lay out your bag and we’ll light a fire.” Mostly for atmosphere. The spring night would have a bite to it, but nothing the polar-warm bags couldn’t take. He spread his out and watched her do the same a few feet away.

Before long, the fire crackled in the pit, flames bright and high, ash drifting upward like snowflakes in reverse. Rena sat on a boulder, her face dramatic in the golden firelight.

“This is nice, huh?” he said, welcoming the quiet moment, the brief break from his furious push to find Beth. “Too bad I didn’t bring marshmallows.”

Rena managed a flick of a smile, looking uneasily out into the darkness. Wind whistled through pines and she rubbed her arms.

“You cold?”

She shook her head. She was nervous, not cold.

“Wishing you’d gone in the van?” He grinned, teasing her a little.

“Why would you say that?” she practically yelped. “I’m fine.”

“You always are fine, Rena,” he said. “Even when you’re about to pass out from a tattoo.” He poked a log deeper into the fire. “Being off the Lounge grid like this…is it against the rules—I mean guidelines?”

“I thought you stopped picking at the Life.”

“I’m just asking.”

“Alternate transport is no big deal. They need temps in Seattle.” She shrugged. She hadn’t jumped down his throat about the question. More progress. She took an Electrique from her backpack.

“You brought E? Can’t skip it for a day?”

“Why would I want to?” She cracked the can and drank.

“You can quit any time, yeah.”

“This is no different than people hooked on coffee.”

“Try to quit,” he said. “See how it goes. I dare you.”

“You just can’t stop looking for a fight, can you?” She shifted uneasily on the rock, distracted by the night around them. Her knees bounced and her eyes were glued to the darkness beyond the fire.

“Got any ghost stories you want to tell?” He hoped to lighten her mood.

Her eyes flickered to him and away. “Not really, no.”

She’s really scared
. He didn’t want that. He joined her on the rock and put his arm around her. “We can find a motel up the road if you want, Rena.”

“No way. This is great.” She shrugged him off, warrior woman look firmly in place. She was something else. He would miss her when this was over.

“Then let’s hit the sack. I’d like to get an early start.” He banked the fire and climbed into his bag. Rena slid tentatively into hers, as if afraid something at the bottom might bite.

Looking up at the wide-open sky, Gage let out a breath. He’d missed camping. As kids, Beth and he slept outdoors a lot to avoid their mother and her boyfriends. Now, he let himself relax, let go, began to drift…except Rena was wiggling around, huffing in irritation, turning one way, then the other.