Chapter 635 | Thath Wath Tactical

Chapter 635: 635 | Thath Wath Tactical

She stopped.

Her shoulders went tight under the neoprene, and for a second I thought she was going to run anyway. Then she turned halfway back, and her profile caught the orange streetlight in a way that made her scales glow like embers.

"You’re calling it in already? That’s rude, I was going to save it for something dramatic."

"I’m not calling it in. I’m asking what it’s worth."

"That depends." She turned all the way around and crossed her arms under her chest, which pushed things up that were already pushed up quite far enough. "What do you want from me?"

I wanted a lot of things. I wanted to know how she mapped the district so completely that she could identify every pawned heirloom by family name. I wanted to know what happened to make a nineteen-year-old Branded girl decide that stealing from pawn shops was a better use of her time than applying for an academy scholarship. I wanted to know why she had kissed my cheek instead of my mouth, and whether the crooked aim was intentional or a mistake, and what she would have done if I had turned my head at the last second.

The interface was not helping.

? Host is experiencing multi-vector attraction to an unregistered heroine with a criminal record and constrictor thighs. The System recommends pursuing this thread, as the resulting Scumbag Points would be significant. ?

? The girlfriend situation remains a factor. The interface notes that Fitzgerald’s current distance is 14.7 kilometers and her emotional state is sleeping, which provides a narrow window for inadvisable decisions. ?

I dismissed the notification and met her eyes.

"I want you to stop getting caught."

She blinked. Her arms uncrossed slightly, and her head tilted to the side like a confused bird.

"What?"

"You’re sloppy. You tripped the alarm at Kask’s place, you left gum in the door latch, and you slipped on a fire escape thirty seconds ago. If Dralun had been the one to find you instead of me, you’d be in a holding cell right now explaining your life choices to a very tired public defender." I took a step toward her, and she did not back away. "You’re doing good work out here. You’re doing work that matters. But you’re going to get yourself killed or arrested before you finish it, and that would be a waste."

Her jaw tightened. Something moved behind her eyes that I could not read, something that had nothing to do with flirting or fear.

"You don’t know anything about my work."

"I know you’ve been doing it alone for years. I know you’ve been doing it in a costume that squeaks when you walk and boots that are held together with safety pins. I know you leave notes in dryer four and disappear before anyone can say thank you, because if they knew your face they could report you and you’d lose everything you’ve built."

I stopped three feet in front of her. Close enough to see the smudge of plum lipstick at the corner of her mouth, close enough to smell the strawberry gloss and the faint reptile musk underneath.

"I also know that the dragon has been filing complaints about Leonard Kask for eighteen months and getting nowhere, and you’ve done more damage to that man’s operation in two weeks than the Hero Commission has done in two years. So the favor you owe me is this: don’t get caught. Get better. And if you need help, you know where to find me."

She stared at me for a long moment.

The strobe from Kask’s broken window pulsed red across her cheekbones, and her pupils shifted in the changing light, the vertical slits expanding and contracting as she processed what I had said. Her tongue flickered across her lower lip again, the quick pink dart that was not quite human, and I watched her fangs press into the soft skin before she spoke.

"You’re weird, golden boy."

"I’ve been told."

"I’m serious. Most guys in your position would ask for something else."

"Most guys in my position don’t have a girlfriend who can detonate a city block."

"You keep saying that like it’s supposed to scare me off." She took a step closer, and her scales brushed against my jacket with a soft rasp that I felt all the way up my arm. "I’m frictionless, remember? I don’t scare."

"That’s not what your scream sounded like when you fell off the fire escape."

Her face went red again. The flush started at her collarbones and climbed all the way up to her hairline, and her fangs bit into her lip hard enough that I saw white pressure marks around them.

"Thath wath tactical."

She heard herself lisp and made a strangled noise that was half frustration and half mortification. I was going to remember that sound for the rest of my five centuries. I was going to remember it every time I ate strawberry anything.

"Stop laughing at me," she hissed.

"I’m not laughing."

"Your face is laughing, I can see it."

"My face is neutral, you’re projecting."

"Your face is smug and I hate it." She jabbed a finger into my chest, right over the second heartbeat, and her nail left a tiny indentation in my jacket. "Fine. You want me to get better, I’ll get better. I’ll be so good at this job that you’ll never catch me again, and then we’ll see who’s laughing at who."

"Whom."

"I’m going to push you off a roof."

"You’d have to catch me first."

She made a sound that was halfway between a growl and a squeak, and then she turned and stalked toward the mouth of the alley with her shoulders rigid and her hips swinging in a way that was probably supposed to communicate anger but was communicating several other things entirely. Her neoprene bodysuit clung to her as she walked, and the emerald scales on her thighs caught the streetlight with every step.

She stopped at the corner and looked back over her shoulder.

"Wednesday," she said.

"What about Wednesday?"

"That’s when I’m delivering to the lady on Halverson. Her daughter pawned a jade hairpin three months ago, and I’m getting it back." She pushed her goggles down over her eyes and her face disappeared behind the reflective lenses. "If you want to watch a professional work, golden boy, be at the bodega at midnight. Don’t be late."

Then she stepped around the corner and vanished.

I stood in the alley for a moment with lipstick on my cheek and a date I had not asked for in my calendar, and I accepted that this was still my life now. The interface chimed with a notification I did not want to read. ℯℯ𝑙.

? New Side Quest Generated: "The Frictionless Thief" ?

? Objective: Assist Lamia in her nocturnal activities without alerting your provisional supervisor or your extremely territorial girlfriend. ?

? Reward: 500 SP, Temptation Gauge advancement. ?