Lindsay Buroker - Dark Currents

As the lorry rumbled on, she tried to tell herself she had not been an idiot for saying something. He knew. Of course he knew. Nobody had ever claimed she was hard to read.

Sicarius dropped from the bench to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, though not touching. “You are my employer.”

Emperor’s eyeteeth, he was going to explain to her why her feelings were foolish. She groaned inwardly and told herself to drop it, to say nothing else. But saying nothing was not her strongpoint. “That was your choice. I wanted to work with you, not order you around.”

“Teams need leaders. Given the goals of this team, you’re the appropriate leader. We’ve discussed this.”

“Yes.”

Sicarius spread a hand toward the others. “That this works, a woman leading five men, is a marvel. I suspect it would work less if you were sleeping with one of us.”

Amaranthe stared at goats grazing beside the road and regretted sharing her feelings. That he was probably right made it worse. There would be resentment if someone, or two someones, got to have relations out in the woods while the rest had to pretend not to notice, but it was not what she wanted to hear.

“And there’s Sespian,” Sicarius said so softly she almost thought she imagined it.

She found his eyes again, sure her own were incredulously wide. “He barely knows me. Whatever he felt-he was drugged at the time. I’m sure he’s over that initial interest.”

“Perhaps,” Sicarius said. “But there’s already too much separating us. I would not wish to add that. Also-”

“All right.” Amaranthe threw up a hand. Now he chose to be a garrulous person? “I don’t need a list. I was just expressing a feeling. If you don’t share that feeling, that’s fine.” She sank lower against the rucksack and avoided looking at him. She sounded huffy, and she knew it. She thought of the handful of coworkers she had rebuffed during her years as an enforcer; she had wanted so much to show her supervisors that she was serious about her job, that she would never consider something as unprofessional as a patrol romance. Now, she was in the shoes of the spurned. Fitting, she supposed. “Sorry,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to be a further wedge between you two either.”

Sicarius’s shoulder came to rest against hers. He laid his hand on top of hers.

Amaranthe grew still. He had never held her hand. She kept her head facing forward, half afraid eye contact would make him leave, like some timid forest creature.

“Just to be clear,” she said, “you don’t share my feelings. Right?”

He did not answer.

“Sicarius? That was a question. I made sure my tone went up at the end.”

He snorted softly. “I care, Amaranthe. More than I thought myself capable.”

“Oh,” she mouthed.

Maldynado clambered out of the cab, munching on a fistful of dried pears. Sicarius released her hand.

“You two mind if I join you? Books is talking about his plans to invest Sicarius’s gambling house earnings. Invest! What kinds of mercenaries invest? Team money should be for carousing and buying weapons.” He rapped his knuckles on the roof of the cab. “Maybe acquiring transport that doesn’t have enforcer logos on the side. Or rust.”

“I thought you were just in this for your statue,” Amaranthe said.

“I am.” Maldynado snapped his fingers. “Say, do you think that enforcer gal is going to put in a good word for us? You won her over, right?” He ambled over, rounding Sicarius’s feet with much room to spare, then plopped down on the other side of Amaranthe. “You don’t mind me joining you, do you?” His eyes widened as he seemed to consider some possibility, but then he snickered dismissively. “You two weren’t having some private rendezvous back here, were you?”

Sicarius said nothing, though there was more ice in his gaze than usual.

Amaranthe merely sighed. “No rendezvous, no.”

“Good,” Maldynado said. “Let’s talk about your birthday celebration. This whole fiasco has crimped my plans terribly. The city is going to be a mess when we get back, and I’m not sure how we’ll find a decent…”

As Maldynado burbled on, Amaranthe exchanged looks with Sicarius. Would there ever be a someday when they could have a private rendezvous?

In the boiler room of the pumping house, Amaranthe swept the last pile of dirt, hair, and walnut shells into a dust pan. Her weapons and packed rucksack leaned against the wall by the door.

Footsteps in the hall heralded Maldynado’s appearance. He swaggered in wearing his peacock-feather hat. “What’s the holdup, boss? Your party starts in an hour.”

Amaranthe dropped the dust pan. “My what?”

“Your birthday party. We’re having it at The Pirates’ Plunder. Their establishment wasn’t affected by the riots, and the Madame is willing to lend us the attic for the shindig. It’ll be private-no chance of running into pesky soldiers or enforcers. Basilard is working with a caterer. We’re going to make it the event of the season!”

“Just so I’m clear…you thought a brothel would be a suitable place to host a birthday party for a woman?”

“Books said almost that exact same thing, but I know you’re not the uppity type. And this is a great place. If you want a pretty man, I can arrange that. They service all types. It’ll be grand, you’ll see.”

“The fact that the pumping house was searched while we were out means we need to find a new hideout. Don’t you think that should take priority?”

“Over birthday parties?” Maldynado asked. “Absolutely not. You have five minutes to finish up, or I’m going to pick you up and-”

Sicarius strode in, an envelope in his hand.

“Ah, me and the boys will meet you up top when you’re ready.” Maldynado hustled out.

Sicarius did not acknowledge him. He handed Amaranthe the envelope. “A youth delivered this.”

“I’m getting mail again? Another sure sign it’s time to leave this hideout.”

“Agreed.”

While she unfastened the seal, she asked, “Speaking of mail…what was on that paper in the ore cart?”

Sicarius closed the door. “The note was addressed to Basilard-to the Mangdorian in the assassin’s party specifically. It contained a request to let Ellaya know the shaman died, so she could send word to his family.”

“Huh. They must have been close. I wonder if he ever resented her for giving his name to Forge and getting him involved in all this. I know Tarok wanted you, but I don’t think he wanted all those deaths on his hands.” Amaranthe shook her head. It mattered little now. “Perhaps we should go to the gambling house and deliver that message to Ellaya. I’m curious if she had more to do with all this than matchmaking. After all, one of those dead dam workers was a customer of hers.”

“She’s gone,” Sicarius said.

“What? You didn’t, ah…”

“I went to ensure she would not be a further threat to us,” he said. “The gambling house was closed, and no one knew where she’d gone.”

So much for that idea. “What else was on the note?”

Sicarius gazed steadily at her.

“You glared at Basilard, so I know there was more.”

“It also contained my name and a plea to Basilard to avenge the Mangdorian people.”

“I see,” Amaranthe said. “Let’s hope it won’t be a problem, since he didn’t see the note.”

“If it becomes a problem, I’ll deal with it.”

She grimaced, knowing exactly what he meant. She hoped it was not something she would have to worry about for a while. For now…

Amaranthe pulled two sheets of paper out of the envelope. The first surprised her with calligraphy, an artistic border, and an official stamp from Enforcer Headquarters. “It’s a pardon for Books.”