Authors: Cathy Pegau
“Guy does that a lot,” Billy said with a grin. “Poor man barely gets the chance to enjoy his own parties sometimes.”
Sasha suppressed a snort. Poor man. Right. “I know, but I wasn’t really in the mood to sit by myself.” She smiled at Kylie. “Mind if I join you?”
Kylie shifted to make room on the lounger, her movements slow and deliberate. “Sure. We’re all one big happy family here.”
Sasha caught Jillian’s skeptical glance but ignored her, though she didn’t believe Kylie’s statement either. “Thanks.” She sat beside Kylie.
“How long have you known Guy?” Billy asked.
“We go back a few years,” Sasha said. “I’ve been away for a while. The pool wasn’t here last time I visited.”
“That must have been before,” Kylie said and yawned. When she finished, her eyes opened only halfway. Coming down from an amber rush? The whiplash change from exuberance to exhaustion was familiar.
“Before what?” Sasha noticed the younger woman struggle to stay focused on her.
Her eyelids lowered. “Before—”
“Kylie.” Jillian’s sharp tone made Kylie and Sasha jump. “Why don’t you take a nap, sweetie? I’m sure Sasha won’t mind.”
Kylie’s brow furrowed but her eyes closed. “But I wanted to talk to her.”
“Some other time,” Jillian said.
Kylie nodded, and her breathing and body settled into almost instant sleep. How much amber had she taken to make the downward spiral pull her under so quickly? Sasha hoped someone would be with her when she woke up. Coming out of such a potent high could be frightening, as well as make one deathly ill.
Sasha turned and asked Jillian, “Before what?”
Billy and the blondes said nothing, deferring to Jillian.
“Before all the renovations. I met Guy when he decided to update. After you left, I guess.” Jillian’s mouth curved into a sardonic grin. “Out with the old and in with the new, you know.”
Was that how she wanted to play it? Bitch. But Sasha didn’t dare let anything show on her face. A woman like Jillian would use any perceived weakness to her advantage.
“So you’ve known him about four years,” Sasha said. Guy certainly hadn’t wasted time finding another redhead. While a relief, to her chagrin, her ego torqued a bit.
“He hired me to design the architectural as well as the tech changes.” Jillian shifted on her lounger and sipped a frothy purple drink from a tall glass. “The house was amazing before, and now it’s a marvel. I also fix it when someone touches something they aren’t supposed to.”
Sasha couldn’t help giving her the same mocking smile. “You’re the handyman.” Jillian’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to retort, but Sasha cut her off. “I’m teasing,” she said as sweetly as she could muster. “It’s incredible. Guy was quite enthusiastic about all the changes when he was giving me a tour.”
That seemed to placate the woman, but her sensitivity toward her professional and personal positions with Guy meant Sasha would have to pick her battles carefully.
“Are you going to stay for a while?” Billy asked. “There’s always room for another beautiful woman around here.”
“Guy and I have a business arrangement to work on.” She watched Jillian out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll be around for a bit.”
Jillian pressed her lips together, creating less than flattering lines at the corners of her mouth. Cosmetic nanos were sure to be in her future sooner rather than later if she kept scowling like that.
“Good,” Billy said, still smiling brightly.
His boyish looks did little for her; she preferred men with a little more life experience. Sterling’s face, the long, white scar and deepness of his eyes, came to mind, but she pushed it away. Sasha sensed Billy’s attempt to charm and be friendly was genuine, and she smiled back.
He rose and stretched, swinging his arms in a scissor pattern. “Do you want to take a swim?”
Sasha gestured at her sweater and trousers. “I didn’t bring a suit.”
He winked. “Not a problem. No one here would mind.”
She laughed and waved him off. “Another time.”
As Billy headed toward the pool, Sasha felt Kylie’s hand grip hers. She looked down at the girl. Kylie’s eyes were half closed, trying to focus on her.
“Sasha,” she whispered.
Sasha leaned closer.
Kylie’s cinnamon-and-citrus-scented breath warmed her ear. “Help me.”
Chapter Eleven
The audible and visual alarms went off simultaneously on Sterling’s comm indicating Sasha’s vital signs had soared. Heart racing, his feet hit the floor as he read the data streaming in red across the screen: pulse spiked; BP, respiration and body temp on the rise.
Shit.
He stabbed the silence icon with a finger, grabbed his pulser from the lockbox hidden at the bottom of the painted chest and bolted to the door for his jacket. Comm clenched in his hand, Sterling ran down the stairs without bothering to lock his room. He had rented the entire floor, so no one should be near his stuff. There was nothing incriminating or valuable in that little hole to worry about anyway. Into the alley and out on the street, he unlocked the car and fired up the engine by remote.
Sterling set the pulser and comm down on the seat beside him, the red data messages blinking in accusation, as he accelerated from the curb. He shouldn’t have let her go with Christiansen. Or he should have followed earlier.
Well, he was following now.
Another audible signal drew his attention from the street. Sasha’s vitals had returned to within normal range. Elevated, but normal. What the hell was happening there?
A warning blare, and Sterling jerked the controls. The oncoming ground car hissed past, the horn Dopplering and fading. He focused on the wet road. No sense in getting himself or someone else killed. But as he raced toward the outskirts of town, toward Christiansen’s estate, his gaze drifted to the comm screen. Heart rate somewhat high but still within norms.
What he would do once he arrived, he had no idea. Call upon Christiansen about some bogus issue with the Kettrick deal? Claim he needed to see Sasha because of a personal emergency? Nothing sounded plausible. Sensibility slowly wound its way back into his brain.
Sterling glanced at the screen, at the normal, steady readings. Something had caused Sasha’s vitals to spike, but whatever it was, she was fine now. Busting in on her and Christiansen might alleviate his worry, but it could blow his chance of getting Kylie out. How could he explain his arrival at the house? Christiansen would wonder about his relationship with Sasha. If he suspected more than a business deal, not only was Sterling at risk, so were Sasha and Kylie.
Half a kilometer from Christiansen’s gate, Sterling pulled off the road and cut the engine. His vision adjusted to the dim light given off by a street lamp and the occasional passing vehicle. Though he knew it was a futile effort, he focused his false eye in the direction of Christiansen’s house and magnified. Imported trees surrounded the properties along the road. Historically, this part of Nevarro was a sweeping plain of scrub grasses and low, rolling hills. If it hadn’t been for its richness of keracite, the barely hospitable planet would have been passed over by the probes and survey teams. Now keracite and amber led its economic sustainability, allowing people like Christiansen to prosper.
Christiansen had landscaped his estate with the largest, heartiest trees that could thrive in the metal-rich soil. Privacy was expensive, but it was worth it to the drug dealer.
Grabbing the comm, Sterling got out, slammed the car door and paced along the side of the vehicle. The frigid wind tore at his coat, flapping the blue wool about his legs, and snow swirled at his feet. His boots crunched on icy grit.
Pacing and freezing and staring at numbers wouldn’t help him see what Sasha was up to, but at least he was closer. If something else caused her alarm, if he suspected anything dangerous was happening, he’d ram the car through Christiansen’s damn gate to get her and Kylie out.
If Christiansen didn’t kill him first.
* * *
Sasha’s heart thrummed hard in her chest, her pulse beating in her ears. She gripped Kylie’s hand, steadying her own trembling ones while she hoped to convey assurance to the girl. “That’s why I’m here, to help.”
“Help me,” Kylie repeated as if she hadn’t heard Sasha. “Please.”
She struggled to sit up. Sasha slid off the lounger to make room for Kylie’s legs to swing to the ground. Still holding her hand, Sasha peered into her blue eyes as they attempted to focus. She recognized that look, had seen it in the mirror more than once.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Sasha said.
Kylie nodded, and Sasha helped her to her feet.
“What’s wrong?” Jillian asked.
Sasha looked over Kylie’s shoulder and gave a wan smile. “She’s feeling a little sick. I’ll take her to her room.”
Jillian frowned. “There are people for that. I’ll call someone—”
“I don’t mind,” Sasha said as she wedged her shoulder under Kylie’s arm. “Come on.”
Sterling’s sister leaned heavily on her, bare feet dragging across the textured tiles of the pool deck. Sasha didn’t think to grab the towel to cover the girl. No one in Guy’s circle ever seemed disturbed by full or partial nudity, even if it made Sasha feel awkward these days. Funny how a few years of rehab drab and Revivalist garb made you self-conscious of your body.
“Oh, God,” Kylie said as they entered the color-changing hall to the conservatory. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“Close your eyes or stare at the floor,” Sasha said. “It’ll help if you can’t see it.”
Kylie nodded, and Sasha led her through to the humid gardens. Amber affected everyone a little differently, but Kylie must have taken a hit worthy of a Bidarki mammoth to feel this ill so quickly.
“It’s hot,” Kylie said, her eyes squeezed closed.
“We’re in the conservatory. Just hang on. We’ll be out in a minute.” Hopefully the heat and humidity wouldn’t make her puke.
Kylie was walking a little better, so Sasha didn’t have to bear as much of her weight. She did tend to weave, and sometimes resisted Sasha’s guidance. Not that she meant to, Sasha figured, but coming down from an amber high could play havoc with equilibrium. With all the negative effects of the drug, she wondered why anyone—including herself, once upon a time—thought the temporary euphoria was worth it.
“Trust me.” Sasha steered them around a stone planter.
They navigated the paths successfully to the exit. Sasha pushed the door open and drew in a breath of cool air. Sweat chilled on her skin. Still holding Kylie, she dried her face with the sleeve of her sweater. “Better?” she asked as Kylie’s eyes opened to slits. She seemed steadier on her feet.
“Yeah, but I need to lie down.”
Sasha guided her down the hall to the elevator that led to the upper floors. Concealed behind a panel that blended with the wall, the door opened when Sasha tapped the appropriate spot. The compartment was large enough for five or six people, with a flat, black screen near the door. Icons on the screen offered the choice of floors.
“Where’s your room?”
“Second floor,” Kylie said. Her voice was a bit stronger, but she still leaned on Sasha.
The second and third floors were for guests and employees. Guy’s suite of rooms on the top floor was accessible by invitation only. Few ever saw the inside of his private office up there. The office on the main floor was for public appearances.
Sasha tapped the number two and waited. Nothing happened.
Kylie reached out with a shaking hand to press her thumb to the icon. “If you don’t live or work here, you can’t use the elevator.”
“That’s new,” Sasha said as the door closed.
“Jillian’s idea.” Kylie swallowed and licked her lips as the elevator rose. “She’s very security-conscious.”
“More like paranoid,” Sasha muttered.
The elevator came to a smooth stop, and the door opened on the middle of the short leg of a T-intersection. There were three rooms on either side of the intersection. Along the long leg of the “T,” two rooms on either side of the hall with a shared lav between them. Sasha had stayed in one of the short hall rooms, when she wasn’t with Guy in his suite.
She guided Kylie down the hallway, the lush blue carpet muting their footfalls.
“Around the corner. Last on the left,” Kylie said.
This floor had nine bedrooms, and there were another six on the floor above, but the hall was quiet. Where was the music and laughter that filled the house during her time here? Eight or ten people were down at the pool, and a handful of employees—real employees who cared for the house and grounds—lived on the premises. Who else lived here? Maybe Guy had gotten tired of the endless party he hosted even when he wasn’t around. Having an entourage fueled his ego, but perhaps a few years of supporting a dozen people who gave nothing back had taken its toll on his generosity.
“I know Jillian is Guy’s designer and tech person,” she said as they reached Kylie’s room. Conversation might distract her from feeling ill, as well as provide useful information. “Do the rest of you work for Guy?” Sasha already knew why Kylie had been hired, but that information had come from Sterling, not Guy.
Kylie palmed the panel beside her door. “Billy is Jillian’s assistant. Maddie, Rhianna and I are part of his public relations team.”
If by “public relations” she meant attending Guy’s parties and making nice with the guests, as Sterling had reported.
“And you all live here?”
She nodded as the door swung open. “Jimmy and the others are only visiting for a few days. Guy’s sponsoring Jimmy’s return to competition.”
Sasha led her to the bed and flipped the covers back. “Lay down. Do you have anything that might help?”
“On the dresser.” Kylie slid under the blanket. “In the marble box.”
The blue marble container, about the size of Sasha’s hand, sat in the middle of typical feminine necessities—hair brush, bottles of perfume, jewelry. Its simple design and clean lines emphasized the value of the stone. A present from Guy, perhaps?
“Where did you get—” Sasha lifted the hinged lid and her breath caught.
A lump of amber as wide as her thumbnail rested on a bed of midnight-blue velvet. Half of the interior was carved into a shallow bowl, and a pestle lay in its own velvet-lined depression.
Sasha inhaled citrus and cinnamon and her hands trembled. She lowered the lid with a
snap
. “I was thinking more along the lines of medtabs.”
“No,” Kylie moaned from the bed. “That’ll make me feel better than some stupid medtabs.”
True, but Sasha couldn’t bring herself to touch the cool marble again. Especially if it meant contributing to Kylie’s addiction. That wasn’t why she was here.
Sasha turned away from the dresser. “I’ll check the lav for some tabs. You stay right there.”
Kylie groaned again, an arm flung over her eyes. She didn’t seem to be all that anxious to get out of bed. If Sasha hurried, she might be able to get medtabs into Kylie before she could self-medicate with amber.
Sasha entered the lav shared with the next room. Messier than the bedroom, the counter was littered with bottles and tubes, smeared with makeup and goo. Towels hung askew on the racks or lay heaped on the tile floor. The commode across from the sink and vanity was closed, as was the frosted-glass door beside it, which led to a shower stall. Sasha searched the drawers of the vanity, found a bubble-pack of the medication and filled a glass with cool water.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the vanity mirror and hesitated. Hair mussed, eyes on the wide and panicked side. She should have known Kylie would have a stash in her room. Should have known that was what the girl would ask for. Should have been prepared for it. Sasha took a long breath and released it slowly.
She returned to the room, her gaze on Kylie, determined not to look at the dresser. “Here. A couple of these will help.”
Sasha set the water on the bedside table and popped two tabs through the plastic package.
Her arm still draped over her eyes, Kylie turned her head away. “No. Get the box.”
“Come on,” Sasha said in the same kind of coaxing voice her mother had used to get teenaged Sasha out of bed for school. “You’ll feel better.”
Kylie flipped the blanket back, her sudden energy startling Sasha, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The scowl on her young face aged her, made her look skitzie. Perhaps she was. “No. I want the box.”
Sasha grabbed Kylie’s shoulders, keeping her seated. Though in a fevered need for the drug, she was too weak to break Sasha’s grip. Scowling herself, Sasha pulled Kylie closer, their faces no more than a hand-span apart. “Stop it! Damn the void, stop. I
know
what you want. More than anyone in this house, maybe, I know.”
Kylie’s fierce look crumbled and her eyes filled as they stared at each other. Did she see the truth in Sasha’s face? Did she understand what could happen to her?
“I know what it’s like,” Sasha continued, her voice barely above a whisper, “to be so sick and in need of a hit that you think you’ll die. To want it so badly, you’ll do anything—anything!—to feel that tingle on your tongue.”
Images flashed through her brain. Marco easing her down on his bed as she licked dust from her finger. Lowering himself onto her, pushing into her. She’d smiled as the amber caught her in its cocoon of euphoria, not caring what happened as long as she got what she needed.
Sasha shook her head and squeezed her eyes closed to dislodge the memory, her fingers digging into Kylie’s shoulders.
“You’re hurting me,” the girl said in a small voice.
Sasha opened her eyes. Slowly, she lifted her fingers from Kylie’s shoulders. Angry red marks marred the pale, perfect skin. “I’m sorry.”
Arms crossed over her nakedness, Kylie rubbed her shoulders, her face full of fear and confusion. “I—I’ll take the tabs.”
Sasha picked up the tablets from the bed and handed them to her. Kylie almost dropped them, her hands were shaking so badly. She passed Kylie the glass of water, surprised her own hands weren’t trembling anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“’Sokay.” Kylie popped the tabs into her mouth and drained the glass. Sasha made sure the tabs went down when she swallowed. Kylie handed the glass back. “I think I want to sleep for a while.”
Sasha helped her under the covers. “I’ve been where you are. It doesn’t end well.”
Kylie frowned as she settled in bed. “Don’t tell me. You’re a former addict on a crusade to stamp out rampant drug use from the inside.”