Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(33)
Author: Richelle Mead

“Perhaps,” Emil conceded. He reached for his pocket again and this time pulled out a tiny, sealed plastic bag. He handed it to Mae and after several moments of hesitation, she took it with her left hand. A lock of golden hair was inside. “But this could only belong to one person.”

“You’re lying.”

He shrugged. “Get it tested and see. Maybe then you’ll show a little more respect for doing your duty.”

She had to force herself not to study the hair. “You still haven’t really explained what it specifically is you want in return.”

“It’ll depend on how we need to use you.”

“You think I’m going to trade some open favor?”

From his face, that was exactly what he thought. “It’s a small thing compared to all we’ve done for you and all we can do.” He nodded toward the hair. “Get it tested. Then we’ll talk.”

He began to walk away, and she toyed with the idea of shooting or at least tackling him. But he hadn’t technically done anything wrong. And so, Mae stayed where she was, watching until the darkness completely swallowed him. Only then did she put the gun away and slowly walk toward her town house, clutching the bag he’d given her.

CHAPTER 10

MASTER AND APPRENTICE

Justin’s first week flew by like some kind of dream. Part of it was spent getting up to speed with SCI and his upcoming caseload. He essentially had to be rehired, so there were countless authorization hoops to jump through and reams of the paperwork so ubiquitous in government. The delay gave him a lot of free time, allowing him to immerse himself back in the world he’d longed for these past four years.

He spent long days in the city, rebuilding his wardrobe—no more flammable knockoffs—and exploring old haunts. There was no difficulty in resuming his old vices. Sure, the stuff you could score around here wasn’t as lethal as Panama’s never-ending supply of drugs, but debauchery was one thing you could always count on, no matter the region, and it was easy enough finding dealers and shady doctors to give him the stimulants he used during the day and the more euphoric things he used to unwind.

One thing he hadn’t expected was a technological learning curve. People often said that if not for the Decline, mankind would’ve been off into the stars by now. Progress had stalled and even regressed in the chaos of the Decline, especially in other parts of the world. In the last decade or so, the RUNA—stabilized by its triumph over Mephistopheles—had rapidly made up for lost time. His time away had proved no exception. Justin saw progress in more than just the egos, and at times, it was a little embarrassing to have to learn something that was second nature to Quentin.

Of course, Justin had nowhere near the adjustment that Tessa had. She made admirable strides that first week, and though she was hesitant to travel into the city as much as he did, she became obsessed with the media stream and would spend hours in front of the screen, watching anything she could get her hands on. TV, news, instructional videos…she took it all in, trying to become an expert in Gemman culture from the safety of their living room.

But he wasn’t convinced that was good enough. He hadn’t brought Tessa back to the RUNA so that she could hide away at home. She could’ve stayed in Panama for that. And so, the night before SCI finally told him it was time to get to work, Justin sacrificed a debauched send-off for himself to take his family out to dinner in the city. It was good for his relationship with Cynthia too. Despite living together, each had been preoccupied with adjusting to his or her new life and they hadn’t had nearly as much contact as they should’ve after a four-year separation.

Tessa gazed with wide eyes around the restaurant Justin had chosen. It served some of the best Thai food in Vancouver but had exploited its popularity by pretty much covering every square inch of wall space with advertising screens. Even Justin, who’d grown up with constant media exposure, had to admit the constantly changing images were a little distracting. But after being denied any real Asian cuisine in Panama, he found he could tolerate the media blasting.

“There’s so much…stuff,” Tessa said. “That’s the fifth ad I’ve seen for ego cases. Do you really need different ones to coordinate with your clothing?”

“Yes,” said Justin.

“Sometimes,” said Cynthia.

Justin didn’t pay much attention to Tessa’s dubious look because he decided the particular case she’d just pointed out would work perfectly with a suit he’d picked up yesterday. He held up his own ego, snapped a shot of the ad, and had an order placed in seconds.

Cynthia frowned in disapproval. “That’s so overpriced. You could get a cheaper one just like that at that store down on Market Street.”

“This one’s a Bloomfield,” he argued.

She still didn’t approve. “Label whore.”

He smiled at her. Life was still too good for him to be upset about much of anything. He had his life, he had his family, he had his job. The only thing that could’ve made his situation better was having citizenship in the National Registry.

And the guarantee that you’re not going to get sent away, said Horatio.

And Mae not hating you, added Magnus.

Why are you guys such buzzkills? Justin asked them.

But both were valid points, especially the former. As much as he’d enjoyed his mini-vacation, SCI’s bureaucratic delay had eaten up days he really couldn’t afford to waste. At least they’d reinstated his database access, so the time hadn’t been completely wasted. He’d been able to check current servitor records against what he remembered of cults that might have silver and moon connections, creating a list of groups worth visiting. He still wasn’t sure whether cracking the case would ensure or harm his ability to stay, but there was no use worrying about it tonight.

A server delivered several dishes to their table, all of which earned wary looks from Tessa—at least until the rice showed up. Her expression brightened at that and then almost comically plummeted again when she saw the chopsticks. Justin requested a fork for her but warned her that she needed to try everything.

“So this is what parenting’s like,” he murmured to Cynthia. Quentin had eagerly jumped in to teach Tessa how to use the chopsticks, just as he’d also volunteered to be her media guide. With his simpler explanations, Quentin actually did a pretty good job and seemed to have a crush on her to boot.

Cynthia shook her head. “You don’t know anything about parenting. Thankfully. It’s a lot harder than you think. Speaking of which…I don’t suppose you’ve told Mom you’re back?”