Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(69)
Author: Richelle Mead

“This could be a vacation,” Justin mused.

“I’m surprised it doesn’t bring back traumatic flashbacks of Panama.”

“Not as humid. That, and it’s safer.”

“You sure about that?” she asked. She’d been in enough borderlands to know that unsavory elements lurked beneath the surface, those who weren’t quite on board with their new government’s policies.

“There are dissidents,” Justin said in agreement. “In fact, we may run into a few when we go out tomorrow, but it won’t be anything major. Once they have more time to adjust, they’ll be grateful to be in the folds of civilization.”

Near the airport, state-funded light-rail tracks were under construction, promising the efficiency the rest of the country enjoyed. Driverless cars had spread to this region, however, and it was easy enough to catch one into the city. There, she found Justin’s vacation comparison might have been more accurate than she’d realized, seeing as they were staying in a beachside resort.

“SCI’s paying for this?” she asked in disbelief. Mazatlán’s buildings were a mix of new and pre-Decline, and this one was one of the new ones, beautiful and filled with modern luxuries. Yet, as they approached the entrance, she couldn’t help but notice the large number of police and regular military patrolling the streets. That certainly wasn’t something you’d see in a posh resort elsewhere in the RUNA.

“Our tax dollars at work,” Justin told her. “Enjoy it, because tomorrow we’re going to see the dredges of this town.”

They spent the night outside in one of the resort’s many restaurants, enjoying dinner and drinks as a local band strummed guitars. Beyond them stretched an expansive beach that gave way to the darkness of the ocean. Mae could just barely make out the sound of the surf.

Justin, naturally, drank heavily the whole time, but at least he didn’t take anything else, hopefully reducing his odds of an overdose. She didn’t want to find out firsthand if Mazatlán’s medical resources were up to normal Gemman standards. He’d said very little about Windsor, but she’d noticed that aside from his morning stimulant, he hadn’t strayed to anything harder than alcohol.

All this time spent together…the hotels, the meals. Sometimes it felt like a parody of dating. Except no date would constantly be checking out other women. His gaze in particular kept going back to a young, red-haired bartender.

“Go tell her you’re an EA diplomat,” Mae said. “I bet that’ll go over well.”

He snapped his attention back to her. “For someone who claims that’s in the past, you sure can’t seem to let it go. You never let me explain.”

“Is there more to it than you using it to get me into bed?”

“Was that what did it?” he retorted.

“No,” she admitted. It had been his wit, his sexiness. The sense that he was interested in what was within her, rather than just the natural-blond exterior that dazzled so many men. It had even been a little of that bravado, something she apparently couldn’t stay away from. Most of all, it had been a sense of connection. She would never give him the satisfaction of telling him, but sometimes, in the rare moments when they weren’t sparring, she still felt it.

“The jacket was my friend’s,” said Justin. “He’d lent it to me, and when you thought I was him…I just went with it. Less depressing to be a diplomat than an exile. I didn’t expect things to pan out like they did.” He laughed softly to himself. “I wonder where Huan is now. He wouldn’t believe this change of fortunes. Aside from Tessa’s dad, he was my only real friend there.”

“Not Cristobal and all those admirers of Gemmans?”

“No. Definitely not.” His eyes were piercing as he studied her. “Nordic Nine, you must have been a diamond among ashes growing up. I don’t know how or why you got out, but I know you must’ve been paraded around and put on display. Your family could do nothing less.”

Mae didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of letting him know he was right, but it wasn’t exactly that difficult a conclusion to reach. “Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

“Sometimes,” she answered honestly.

“Did it get tiring? Always having to smile and say polite things? Knowing people were watching and speculating? Knowing they were flocking to what you were and not who you were?”

His ability to so perfectly capture something like that was both amazing and disturbing. But again, she answered with truth. “Yes.”

He spread his hands out. “Then there you go. Welcome to being a Gemman in Panama.”

His words drew her up short. She had never once thought they might have any sort of shared experience like that. With a jolt, she realized that his difficulties in Panama might have extended beyond just being surrounded by provincial primitiveness. There was a social aspect she’d never considered. And with that conclusion, she suddenly drew an even more startling one. The sadness and loneliness she’d sensed from him might not have been faked. That didn’t mean he still hadn’t had ulterior motives—especially if his “second date” speech was any indication. Nonetheless, it cast him in a new light. She couldn’t fully articulate her thoughts and simply stayed silent. She didn’t know what expression she wore, but after several moments of studying her, Justin looked away and downed his drink.

“Well,” he said, getting to his feet. “The night’s not getting any younger, and her shift’ll probably be over soon. I can take it from here, noble defender. Charge anything else to my room.” He gave her a mock salute and sauntered over toward the bartender, wearing an expression very similar to the one he’d used on Mae in their first meeting. The young woman looked interested, but then, who wouldn’t be in the face of those good looks and charm? Angry about her moment of sentimentality, Mae left as well—for her room, alone.

He was in good spirits the next morning but said nothing about what had happened. She certainly wasn’t going to ask. They took another car, this time out to the edges of the city, which became significantly less affluent the farther they went. The military presence also diminished. There were a few new construction projects, but many buildings were pre-Decline or had been hastily thrown up immediately after in an attempt at safety when chaos roamed the streets. The people they saw here were obviously working-class, and even if they now had the same health and education access, it was clear these new citizens were a long ways from their more fashionable counterparts. Signs in Spanish showed many hadn’t yet learned their new national language.