Artifice - Man x Man - Book Six

Chapter 13

There's no light pouring into the windows to alert me that it's morning, and I awaken to my annoying internal clock. I check the digital flickering light on the nightstand and rub my eye with the back of my hand as I sit up from the hard bed. 

What had felt so comfortable at the moment now compares to the feel of a steel grate, much like my surroundings. I steal a side glance at Tonic, who's sprawled on his side of the bed, and I'm quietly thankful that he respected my wishes enough to steer clear of me for the night.

My eyes travel quickly as I recollect where we are, wedged deep into illegal activity as if there truly was no escape. As I slip out of bed, I note that our clothes are gone. What was left of them, at least. With the sand storm and the fight, my lycra suit hadn't faired well with the abuse. New clothes were hung on a rack beside a mirror. 

A black, thin bodysuit similar to the one I had worn on the first day, though this seemed a bit more sturdy than the one I had been previously given. I cringe as I wriggle into it, stealing glances over my shoulder to ensure Tonic remained asleep. 

My skin is gritty as if it were covered in a fine layer of chalk and silt. While I crave a shower, I don't wish to be here any longer than necessary. 

I pull the fingerless gloves on over my hands, happy to guard my rings against the prying eyes of our host. I end my primping by pulling my hair into a tight bun. It was unnerving to think she had been in here, or at least one of her guards, and I hadn't even known. 

I was so used to Verando keeping watch, I suppose it never even occurred to me to sleep lightly. With the stress of low oxygen and pulling off my respirator, I could feel that my body was still under the effects of fatigue. 

The door slides open with a dissatisfying hiss, I make my way down the dank, dark hall, resting my hands in the crooks of my elbows as I cross my arms self-consciously. Something in one's person makes the hair stand up on the back of your neck when faced with an ominous flickering light and a low-visibility hallway. 

I hurry along at a quick clip, darting through a door as my heart pounds in my chest to escape whatever entity lurks in the echo chamber of the hall. Realizing that I'm at the top of the wooden staircase, I look down to see the club is empty, with Soli is sitting at the bar, fiddling with something on the counter. On closer inspection, I see that it's my respirator. 

She's wearing a similar outfit to me, the thin suit clings to her person, the strained zipper forced to remain up with a pin. She seems unamused as she turns a small tool in her hand, sealing up the back of the device. 

"I'm surprised you slept as late as you did. Either you trust Tonic to much or you're a bigger idiot than you look."

"I'm exhausted." I allow, a glimpse of humanity to perhaps show her that I, too, understood our circumstances. This was the part where Verando made up for my lack of ability to connect with people. He would have been up, helpful, assuring these people that we had enough value to keep us a live. I fell short in this instance.

"You're pale as a spirit and don't look like you're from around here. I need you to stay alive, for a bit longer anyway. Don't trust people in these parts; they're to desperate for that." Looking me up and down, where I expect that she's examining my body as one does when they've met someone new, she seems to more so take stock of my assets and I feel exposed all over again.

 "Tonic seems to find use in you and while I'm not the biggest supporter of his, we are on the same team." Sitting down on one of the backless stools, I watch the respirator before cautiously trying it on to test if it works, to my surprise, it does. 

"Where did you learn to fix these?"

Sensing my judgment, she snags her shallow glass and takes a small sip. By the wrinkle of her nose, I assume she was drinking some sort of whiskey. "Not much for breakfast but you're welcome to help yourself to the refrigerator. Ask less questions."