The Arrivals

Chapter 3

When Kitty had walked into Governor Soanes’ office, she’d had to stamp down the impulse to start trouble as a test of his mettle. He wasn’t in any shape to fight, a detail that irritated her even in her most generous moods. She had no love for Ajani, the man who caused most of their problems, or for Garuda, the bloedzuiger her brother called friend, but at least those Wastelanders were able to defend themselves in a conflict. Soanes, however, had the look of something bloated. His gut protruded like a woman at the end of pregnancy, and his face had the look of a dog she’d had as a girl: jowls flapping about like the skin had started to stretch. Yet, much like that dog, he seemed more lazy than dangerous. The idea of him exerting himself to send the brethren after the Arrivals seemed to go against his persona.

“The brethren attacked us,” Kitty said as she dropped into one of the pair of chairs in front of the oversize desk where the governor sat. She twisted sideways, bending one leg and draping the other over the arm of the chair. Her dust and sand-coated boots would leave a mess behind, but it was in keeping with the demeanor of pure cussedness that she adopted around Governor Soanes. Since that day over two decades ago when she’d left home to follow after Jack, she’d learned to play a number of roles. When she was with Jack or Edgar, she felt like she could sometimes set all of that aside, but this was business. In dealing with Soanes, Jack would undoubtedly be polite, so Kitty would be brash.

The governor gestured to the empty chair beside Kitty, but Jack pointed to his holster and said, “Unless I’m disarmed, I’m more comfortable standing.”

Soanes nodded, but a slight frown crossed his face before he turned his attention to Kitty. He asked, “Did you . . . eliminate the monks?”

“Eliminate? We were supposed to be negotiating with them in peace; that was the order, wasn’t it?” Kitty flashed him a smile that was as falsely friendly as his always were.

And right on cue, with a warning tone in his voice and a hand on her shoulder, Jack said, “Katherine . . .”

“No, no. Kitty has a point,” the governor placated. “The objective was a peaceful negotiation.” He leaned back in his chair, which creaked but didn’t spill him to the floor. “To clarify, I see you here, so I’d surmised that the monks are no longer a problem. I chose my words poorly.”

“They killed one of ours.” Jack didn’t let any emotion into his voice, but if anyone knew him, they’d hear the emotion all the same.

“Dead dead or temporarily dead?”

Before Kitty could reply, Jack’s grip on her shoulder tightened in a restraining way, and he said, “We won’t know for a few more days.”

He squeezed again, this time with a couple of quick pinches, and Kitty took that to mean she was to speak now. “The brethren’s attack was unprovoked,” she started. “That kind of thing doesn’t usually happen without reason.”

“What my sister means to say is that we were wondering where you got your information before you passed it on to me.” Jack still sounded even-tempered, but the hand that was on her shoulder felt like a steel grip.

“Now, Jack, you know I can’t answer that,” Soanes said.

“Actually, that isn’t what I meant, Jackson,” Kitty said. “What I meant to say was that it seems suspicious that a peaceful meeting led to bullets and magic.” She came to her feet and stood beside her brother, positioning herself beside him rather than in front of him in case there was violence. She didn’t imagine that the governor was particularly adept with any weapons he might have concealed within his reach, but that only made him dangerous in a different way. An armed fool could be more dangerous than an experienced shooter.

“If you have some information that would make this clearer, I’d be mighty relieved to hear it.” Jack stared directly at the governor. “I’ve fought for the good of the Wasteland for half my life.”

“And we’re grateful for that, for all of you, but that doesn’t mean I can violate the responsibilities of my office by telling you things that are brought to me in private.” The governor tilted his head back so as to stare up at them from across the expanse of his desk. “If all of these years together aren’t reason enough for you to trust me, I’m not sure what else to say.”

For a long moment no one spoke. Kitty waited for Jack to make the call. That was how it worked: he made the decisions, the rest of the Arrivals—herself included—obeyed his decrees. Someone had to be in charge. In their little group, that person was and had always been her brother. It wasn’t a task she wanted for herself, and she certainly wouldn’t give her allegiance to anyone else.

“You’ll follow up,” Jack half asked, half demanded.

“Of course!” Governor Soanes beamed at them. “You’ll let me know if that death is a permanent one, I assume, and you’ll take care of the monks?”

“We took the job,” Jack said. “We’ve never left one unfinished before.”

“I never could abide by demon summoning.” The governor’s expression was one of blatant disgust, and for the first time Kitty thought he was being completely honest. He might be hiding things, probably more than even she suspected, but his feelings about the brethren were crystal clear.

A few moments later, Kitty and Jack stood outside the governor’s office.

“I’m not ready to travel,” she admitted. The thought of trekking back out to camp today was daunting. “A cold drink and a long nap would go a long ways to making the trip back to camp easier.”

“If we stay here tonight, we’ll still be back the day before Mary’s due to wake,” Jack allowed.

The siblings walked toward the tavern. They’d discuss their thoughts on their visit to the governor, but not here where there were too many witnesses—all of whom were undoubtedly well aware that Jack and Kitty were the two Arrivals who’d been in the Wasteland the longest. Even if they did talk, however, there wasn’t much to say. The governor knew they had doubts, and he’d answered in a way that was typical for this world: retreating behind the idea of tradition as if that were the only answer he could give. Admittedly, it was sometimes the answer, but politicians were politicians in every world. He’d not disclose everything he knew unless he had no other choice. A different man might have gathered evidence before presenting his doubts to the governor, but Jack was as direct as politicians were cagey.

They’d almost reached the tavern they usually frequented while they were in Covenant when Jack tensed. “Stay out of this, Katherine,” he murmured low enough that only Kitty would hear him.

She followed his gaze to where a tall man who looked a lot like a better-dressed, longer-haired version of Jack was hitching up the Wasteland version of a horse to the rail outside one of the less savory taverns in Covenant. Not coincidentally, it was also the tavern Kitty preferred.

“Daniel,” Kitty greeted in her friendliest voice. “Did you come to your senses or are you still an idiot?”

“I came to my senses years ago, Kitty.” Daniel stepped away from his animal. “Ajani gave me the life I deserve. He’d give you everything.”

“Except the things that matter,” Kitty corrected.

Daniel shrugged.

“Are you alone?” she asked, looking around the quickly emptying street. None of Ajani’s other lackeys appeared to be in sight, but that didn’t mean that they—or Ajani himself—weren’t nearby.

“The boss isn’t here, but if you wanted him, I could send—”

“No,” she interrupted. Before she could say more, Daniel lunged at Jack, and the two men were throwing punches.

Kitty sighed. Daniel had been one of their own, one she’d trusted and liked, but he’d left when Kitty had ended their ill-thought-out relationship. As far as she saw it, they’d been friends who sometimes went to bed together. Unfortunately, as it turned out, Daniel thought he felt something more for her, and he’d also been there to spy on the Arrivals.

As a result, Jack had the dual provocations of overprotectiveness toward her and intolerance for deceit. The result was that the two men couldn’t seem to cross paths without fists flying. They’d killed each other repeatedly early on after Daniel had left, but these days Daniel never drew his weapon. Jack, of course, couldn’t see his way clear to shoot him if he knew that Daniel was refusing to use bullets. Her brother was honor-bound to the point of foolishness. She wasn’t.

“You have ten minutes, Jack, and then if he’s still upright, I’m shooting him.”

For his part, Daniel was a good fighter. Once upon a time, she’d enjoyed watching him in action. Since he’d become one of Ajani’s top people, he’d shown himself capable of a type of creative violence that was disquieting to her. Currently, he was fighting fair—and well.

Kitty drew the revolver on her left hip and flicked open the chamber. She tapped out two bullets and replaced them with a pair of Francis’ toxin-filled rounds.

“Thought you said ten minutes, Kitty.” Daniel glanced at her and grinned. “If Edgar is telling you minutes are that brief, maybe I ought to remind—”

“Watch yourself, Danny.” She pulled back the hammer and grinned at her former bedmate.

“At least Edgar is worthy of my sister,” Jack snarled as he hit Daniel with even more force than before.

Daniel staggered back as Jack landed another blow. He locked eyes with Kitty as he wiped the blood from his mouth. “I don’t think you’ll do it.”

Jack shook his head and muttered something, but Kitty didn’t hear it over the crack of her gun.

The bullet hit Daniel in the upper thigh. Kitty wouldn’t shoot a Wastelander so casually, but Daniel was—like all of Ajani’s group—impervious to death. Even if he did die from the wound, he’d wake back up. Unlike the Arrivals who stayed with Jack, Ajani’s people didn’t ever stay dead.

She pulled back the hammer as she debated where to shoot him the second time, but before she fired again, Jack said, “Katherine! Enough.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just because you don’t shoot him anymore doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“And that’s the other reason Ajani wants you. You’re bloodthirsty.” Daniel ripped off his shirt to wrap around his wound. He still looked damn good with less clothes, and he knew it. She barely resisted smiling at the familiar warmth in his voice as he asked, “A little help?”

“Go to hell.”

“Didn’t we already do that?” Daniel asked quietly.

When neither Kitty nor Jack replied, Daniel looked down and wrapped the shirt as best he could around his bleeding leg. He tied the arms of the shirt into a knot, using them like straps to fasten the makeshift bandage. When he looked up, he had a far too friendly expression on his face, but all he said was, “Burns like fire, Kit. Something Francis cooked up?”

Jack shook his head at the two of them, touched his lip gingerly, and looked at the blood now on his fingers. “Come on, Katherine. There’s no need to stand around with a go’damned lickfinger.”

The look Daniel was giving her was the same one he’d used years ago when he wanted to talk privately. Kitty glanced at her brother and said, “I’ll be right in.”

Jack gave her a pointed look. “Don’t kill him . . . or do anything else stupid.”

Daniel laughed and waved Jack away. “Give the others my best.”

But Jack was already heading into the inn. Once he was gone, Kitty squatted down beside Daniel. She sighed. “Jack would let you come home. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Are you over Edgar?”

She forced herself not to flinch away from Daniel’s attentive gaze, to keep her expression mild, but it didn’t change anything. “What’s between you and me has nothing to do with Edgar. You were my friend.”

“Are you offering the same sort of friendship we used to have?” he asked baldly. “I hear that he’s still banned from your bed. Tell me we can pick up where we were, and we can call it whatever you want.”

“I can’t.”

“Then I’ll stay with Ajani.” Daniel sighed. “Living like you and Jack isn’t something I’m going to do just for the hell of it, Kit. I like comfort, and I like money. The only thing I want that I don’t have in Ajani’s employ is your friendship.” He paused, but she couldn’t say anything he would want to hear. “Ajani wants you because of what you are, but he has no idea who you really are. Honestly, Kit, I think it would kill me to see you with him. Worse than seeing you with Edgar.”

“I’m not with Edgar,” Kitty insisted. “We’re friends, but not . . .”

“You’re with him enough to refuse me.” Daniel gave her a rueful smile. “None of the others Ajani has gathered can work spells. It’s still only you, and he is going crazy over it lately. He rants like a child denied a favorite toy. Be careful.”

Over the years Kitty had gotten very good at hiding her feelings, but she failed in that moment: her surprise was as obvious as her doubt. “So you’re my spy now?”

He shrugged. “If that’s all you’ll let me be . . . I’m not working for the Arrivals, but there’s not much I wouldn’t do to protect you. Lately, I’m not so sure the boss is firing on all cylinders. Something’s up. I just thought you should know.” Then he held a hand out to her. “Help me up?”

“I’m the reason you’re down,” she objected, but she took his hand all the same and stood. Bracing her feet, she tugged, and he pushed off the ground with his uninjured leg and other arm.

When he was on his feet, he used her hand to jerk her toward him.

Before he could kiss her, she’d raised her gun and pressed the barrel against his stomach. “Don’t make me shoot you again.”

His answering laughter was so familiar that she smiled in spite of herself.

“I could stay here tonight, Kitty,” he said. “Edgar wouldn’t have to know. Hell, no one has to know. It doesn’t even have to mean anything.”

For a moment, she considered it. She wasn’t sharing Edgar’s bed, and she didn’t owe anyone any explanations. It wasn’t like she was able to catch a disease or get pregnant, not here in the Wasteland, but no amount of rationalization would change the fact that Daniel worked for Ajani. Weakly, she said, “I just shot you.”

“True,” Daniel murmured. “There would be positions we couldn’t—”

“No,” she interrupted. She stepped away from him and glanced toward the tavern, as much to look for Jack as not to look at Daniel. “Edgar would forgive me for a meaningless fuck, but you’re not meaningless.”

“Thank you for that.” Daniel squeezed her hand. “Be careful, and—as much as I hate saying this—try to stay with Edgar or Jack. I’m not sure the boss would follow the rules anymore if he saw an opportunity to take you.”

After Daniel released her hand and limped away, Kitty stood watching him. They’d once been friends, but that didn’t mean she understood him . . . or truly trusted him. In his life before waking up in the Wasteland, Daniel had been a drug dealer. He lied as easily as he breathed.

In this, though, she believed him. For the first time in a lot of years, he’d sounded like the man she’d once cared for. Whatever flaws he had, he’d just put himself at risk, and taken a bullet to the thigh to warn her. She could only hope that Ajani didn’t find out.