Radclyffe - Wild Shores

“Austin would probably fly in terms of being genderless,” Gem said musingly, “but it’s a little too sophisticated, and I see you as someone a little…hmm…flashier in your artist persona.”

“Flashier, huh?” Austin cocked her head. “Not sexier?”

Gem ignored the trickle of electricity down her spine and pretended she didn’t notice Austin flirting. But she noticed all right. Austin veered between serious and outrageously playful, and the constant back and forth was so unpredictable as to be enticing. Like intermittent reinforcement—and Lord, now she was analyzing her own behavioral responses as if she were a test subject. When had she forgotten how to simply enjoy herself? “So, are you mostly doing paranormal?”

“Pretty much any kind of sci-fi fantasy. I prefer action-adventure type stories. Easier to script. More exciting to draw.”

“Well, I know you’re not doing the Y: The Last Man series, which I love. I’ve seen Vaughan’s picture and I know that’s not you.”

“You weren’t kidding.” Austin nodded appreciatively. “You do know your comics.”

“I mostly read the graphic adaptations of authors I’m really fond of. I like to see the characters given form.” She laughed. “The women always look different than I imagined—but we’ve come a long way from the Wonder Woman years, not that I don’t still love those too.”

“You mean with the big breasts and tiny waists? I dunno about that.”

“Well, I’ll give you the big breasts. But at least now the female heroes have muscles and are a lot more into physical confrontation. I love a woman with a sword.”

Austin swallowed her coffee wrong and choked. “Really?”

Heat climbed into Gem’s face. What was she doing? She hadn’t been this open and unguarded since Christie, and that seemed like another lifetime. That was another lifetime ago. She’d sworn she’d keep a careful distance from people, and she hadn’t suffered for it. Why she was suddenly dropping all her barriers with a near stranger, especially a somewhat mysterious, if terribly charming stranger, was inexplicable. “I was being literal.”

Too bad. Austin almost spoke aloud but was glad she hadn’t. Gem looked uncomfortable, and maybe she should take that as a warning herself. Gem wasn’t the kind of woman she’d pick up for an hour or two in a hotel room on a long layover somewhere. She didn’t do it all that often, but when the constant travel, unrelenting pressure of defusing one crisis after another, and the endless self-questioning got to be too much, her choice was to drink until she slept or have sex until she didn’t think. When she’d found herself drinking a little too much four or five years before, she decided sex was a better antidote. She didn’t turn to it frequently, but when she did, she enjoyed the game, took pleasure in the flirtation and the seduction and ultimately in the final, if fleeting connection. She’d already gone beyond the point of flirtation with Gem. She liked her. Anything beyond that would only be complicating what was likely to become a very difficult situation. “Literally, then…you might have seen the Sisters of Revenge series. It’s about a cadre of—”

“Women warriors dedicated to protecting women on a planet where the captives of territorial wars are sold into slavery. I know that one. Did you—?”

“That would be mine.”

“You’re kidding. You’re Ace Grand?” Gem rocked back in her seat and laughed aloud, her face transformed by pleasure. “That’s amazing. You’re awesome!”

Austin just stared, stunned by a whirlwind of sensation, dizzy as if she’d stepped into a rainbow of color and heat. She’d never met a woman capable of such spontaneous delight. A tightly coiled tendril of hope, long lost and deeply hidden, stretched tentatively toward Gem, testing the possibility of connection. Everything else—the job, the constant pressure to excel, to succeed, to be better than —disappeared. The unrelenting need to measure up and not be left behind faded.

How would she ever hold on to this feeling? What could she possibly do to make Gem look at her this way again? A tight ball of regret filled her chest. Before very long she’d likely destroy any chance she had of being the benefactor of Gem’s favor. Knowing she would lose yet again, she determined to hold on to every glimmer of pleasure as long as she could. “That’s me. But you don’t have to call me Ace.”

“Ace. Yep. It suits.” Gem leaned forward, gripping the coffee cup the waitress had placed down a minute before. “I love your stuff. The characters are incredibly vivid, and the dialogue really jumps. The adaptation you did of Young’s Demon Darkness series was fabulous. Really true to the novels, and the physical depiction of Andromira was…Sorry, I know I’m being a fangirl, but—well, I’m a fan.”

“Hey,” Austin said, trying not to preen, “don’t apologize. I’m really glad you like comics. I don’t meet many people I can actually have a conversation with who do.”

“Do you do signings?”

“Not very often. My schedule is pretty jammed.” Austin couldn’t very well tell her that most of the time she had to squeeze her graphic work in between trips to one part of the world or another to neutralize a potential global disaster. “I don’t get much exposure to the audience.”

“There, you see? That’s why you don’t know there are lots of people like me who really enjoy comics.”

“You’re probably right. I’m very happy that you proved me wrong.”

“Well, I doubt proving you wrong could become a habit.” Gem smiled. “You strike me as being someone who knows what you’re about.”

“Thanks, I think.” Austin saw no point in telling her she was wrong. That she’d never entirely been able to shake her childhood, when she’d known she’d failed to meet her parents’ expectations, and she still carried the scars, not all of them physical, as reminders.

“So…” Gem paused as the waitress deposited their food, left a check, and hurried off. “Do I get a sneak preview of Ciri? I can’t wait to see how you see her.”

Austin grabbed the pen the waitress had left on the table by the check and folded over a corner of the paper placemat advertising local garages, contractors, and pet sitters. She quickly sketched Ciri holding her sword overhead with both hands, her long braid flying behind her, bolts of lightning shooting from the blade, and a banshee war cry enclosed in the balloon above her. She tore the paper in half and passed it to Gem. “There you go.”

She held her breath while Gem turned it back and forth, as if she could see beneath the flat page to the rest of the action. When she glanced up at Austin, her eyes glowed. “If I show up at your hotel room and demand to see more, will you think I’m a crazy stalker?”

Austin forced a grin, knowing that wouldn’t be the reason Gem hunted her down. “I think I’ll probably be safe.”

“Mmm.” Gem folded the paper carefully and tucked it into her pocket. “I’ll remind you you said that.”

Chapter Four

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive for a while?” Gem asked as she buckled into her seat and Austin got behind the wheel. She’d almost hated leaving the warm cocoon of the diner, where she’d felt a little removed from her ordinary life and a little bit out of control. She wasn’t quite herself, and the unexpected freedom was exhilarating. Austin continued to fascinate, by turns charming and amusing and then, suddenly, quiet and reflective—as if she were struggling with some larger question and finding the answers elusive. Gem loved puzzles, although her interest didn’t usually extend to people. She’d learned a painful lesson when it came to people—she was terrible at reading them and vowed never to be in a position where her flawed ability to discern another’s true intentions would matter. If she didn’t care, she couldn’t be hurt. Austin had already made her forget her sacred promises—from the beginning, Austin had been a mystery Gem wanted to unwrap.