Two Can Play (Entangled Ignite) Read online

  “Yeah. Little blocks of letters, some with wings and circles. They’re dated. Like a diary maybe? I covered some up with posters.”

  Had to be Beth’s work. “Where did L.E. go from here? Do you know?”

  She shrugged. “Could be any Lounge. People transfer a lot.”

  “Is that hard to do? Transferring?”

  “Not really. People temp where they think they want to move. You get your manager’s okay and if that location needs help, you sign up at the transport office. Vans go out on a schedule.”

  “Which cities are popular?” Jesus, there were twelve Lounges spread across the country. Which would Beth choose?

  “Everybody wants San Diego, but it’s way staffed. Seattle seems to always need people. Vegas is okay, except Loungers can’t gamble…” She went on about the pros and cons of each Lounge, adding that they didn’t like you to temp more than a two-day drive from the Lounge you were at, until Gage finally interrupted her.

  “I’d like to look at your walls, if that’s okay.”

  She grinned. “You want to look at my walls? You have the weirdest lines. Get me a real drink and I’ll take you up.”

  He ordered her a virgin just the same.

  …

  Rena jerked awake to pitch-blackness and gasped. Not the dark. Anything but black. Please. Panic surged, pouring icy adrenaline through her. Where was her lamp? She always kept it on, but it wasn’t lit. The bulb must have gone out. Her eyes strained for light, settling on her clock, its tiny LEDs showing two fifteen, a faint green relief from the dark.

  Bam, bam. Someone was at her door. That was what had awakened her. Was it the Watchers with her Quest? Her soul sank.

  It will be over soon and it’s for the best. That was her only comfort.

  She strode across her Quarters, switching on the tensor lamp as she passed. Smoothing the tank top and shorts she slept in, she ran her fingers through her hair, her tongue over her teeth, then opened up to two Watchers—Zeke, which was a relief, and Roland, a Watcher she disliked, with a rep for getting too rough with the gamers he bounced. She’d seen him huddling up with the badass Watchers in the security office, muttering and smirking, acting all arrogant and sinister. He had hard eyes and a harder mouth, and his face was always red as if he was permanently furious.

  “People are sleeping,” she said. “Don’t beat down the door.”

  Roland shoved a plastic-coated card at her. “Your script. You read it to her. Don’t deviate and don’t explain. Let’s go.”

  “Hang on. I’m barely awake.” She looked to Zeke to agree, but he frowned, hiding his teddy-bear side.

  The two stood there looking tough, arms crossed, inky scimitars stretching over bunched biceps, while she looked over the card. “Cassandra Fletcher” had been written in marker on a blank line. They must wipe off the name and use the card again and again. Multiple Lifers had been forced out? Her heart tightened in her chest. That didn’t fit Life Lounge spirit at all.

  Beneath the script she was to read to Cassie, the instructions said to quickly escort the evictee to the waiting van and turn the room key in at the Watchers’ station.

  “Let’s roll,” Roland snapped.

  “Hold on,” she said. “Maybe you do this a lot, but it’s new for me.” Her body felt heavy and her legs didn’t want to move.

  “It’s my first time, too,” Zeke muttered to her.

  “Meet me at the elevator,” she told them.

  “I don’t know why we need a plebe,” Roland growled as they moved out her door. “Plebe” was the Watcher name for other Lifers.

  Rena grabbed all her cash to give Cassie—Lifers cashed in some points for spending money out in the Dead World—and set off to perform the most difficult duty of her life.

  They took the elevator down to Level Four, where Cassie lived. Before Rena could knock on her door, Roland used his master key, then shouldered his way in, crashing the door against the inside wall as if they were a SWAT team. What an asshole.

  There was movement from beside the bed. Zeke flipped on the overhead light and Rena saw that it was Gage. What was he doing here?

  “Wha’s going on?” Cassie sat up, rubbing her eyes, wearing a see-through teddy and panties. Gage threw a sheet around her and placed himself between her and the intruders.

  “You”—Roland stabbed at Gage, then the door—“out. Now.”

  “You’re busting curfew, man,” Zeke explained, trying to soften it.

  “What’s this about?” Gage asked Rena.

  “Nothing that concerns you.” He’d screwed Cassie drunk? Cassie was indomitable when she wanted something, but Rena had expected better of him somehow.

  Roland moved as if to grab Gage, but Gage blocked him so he could help Cassie to her feet. Rena swept shorts and a top from the floor and carried them to her friend. “Just go, Gage.” She spoke low.

  Gage just stood there.

  “I mean it,” she said through gritted teeth. “We’ll talk later.”

  He held her gaze for a long moment, clearly wanting to do more, but he finally gave in and backed out the door. What the hell would she tell him was going on?

  “What’s the deal?” Cassie asked, sounding like a scared girl.

  “Do your job!” Roland snapped at Rena.

  “I’m sorry, Cassie,” Rena said. She read from the card, “For crimes against the NiGo Family, Cassandra Fletcher, you are hereby evicted from your Quarters in the Real Life Lounge. You are forever banned from any Lounge, even as a patron, and may not enter for any reason whatsoever ever again.”

  “I’m being kicked out?” She sounded horrified. “No. You can’t.”

  Rena kept her head down, still reading, aching for her friend. “You have ten minutes to gather personal items that are not Lounge property.”

  “Why is this happening?” Cassie whispered. “Is it the accounts?” She shot a look at the Watchers, then back to Rena. “Is that why?”

  “It’s because you’re Angel,” she whispered. “You betrayed the Life.”

  “Are you nuts? No way am I Angel. That reporter hit on me.”

  “I’m sorry, Cassie.” Maya had told her Cassie would deny it, that she would lie to protect her pride, but she sounded very sincere.

  “No explaining,” Roland warned.

  “Why you, Rena?” The truth seemed to hit Cassie like a punch. “This is your Quest? To boot me?” Anger strengthened her voice and Rena was glad to hear her sound more like herself. “I’m not Angel. Think of all the whiny shit she said in that story. They’re lying to you, Rena.”

  “Enough delays! Move it!” Roland yelled.

  Rena spun on him. “Shut the hell up! I’ll handle this my way.” She turned to take Cassie’s arm. “Let me help you pack.”

  Cassie stood like a rock. “I can’t leave. This is all I have.”

  Rena’s chest burned. This was agony. Poor Cassie. “I know it looks black, but Maya will make sure you get the help you need to”—she glanced at Roland, not wanting him to hear Cassie’s issues—“straighten out. There’s a van downstairs to take you home.”

  “This is my home.”

  “Maybe your mom’s better now,” she said, hoping that was true. Leading Cassie to her closet, she took down her old backpack and tossed in the few clothes Cassie hadn’t bought from the catalog, along with her tin crayon box of mementos, then turned to look over the room for anything pre-Life. Nothing that she could see among the scattered clothes, piles of fast-food containers, and smuggled beer bottles. The Life was all she had.

  From the refrigerator, Rena grabbed a pint of yogurt and an apple, then hesitated at the sight of six cans of Electrique. Cassie deserved some comfort, didn’t she? She buried them beneath the clothes, shoved the cash into the front compartment, and zipped the backpack closed.

  Returning to Cassie, she slipped the strap onto Cassie’s shoulder. “You can start over, Cass. Maya will get you help. You’ll get yourself right again.”

  “They�
�re using you, Rena,” Cassie said dully.

  Roland and Zeke stepped in to take Cassie by her arms. At the door, she sprang into action, fighting, kicking, grabbing the doorjamb, desperate to stay. “Don’t let them do this to me, Rena.”

  Rena’s insides twisted as if Cassie were tearing at them, too. She fought the drive to rescue Cassie, drag her back to her Quarters, and barricade her inside.

  “I won’t tell about the accounts, I swear!” she shrieked. “I swear!”

  What accounts? Rena remembered the weird ledgers Cassie had mentioned. She’d said things weren’t right…

  Zeke and Roland managed to get Cassie into the hall. Rena started after them. “We’ve got it from here,” Zeke said. “Lock up and go. You did your job.”

  She backed into the room, listening as Cassie was dragged to the elevator, begging them not to make her leave. An ache poured through Rena and she began to shake and sweat. Cassie was in agony and so scared.

  Alcoholics have to hit bottom.

  She knew that was true. Maya saw this all the time as a therapist. Sometimes you had to do the hard thing to help someone you loved.

  She heard the elevator start down.

  It was quiet now, but Cassie’s room seemed to echo with her cries, the squeak of her fingers on the doorjamb, the scuffle of feet, her gasping breaths.

  Was Cassie Angel? Think of all the whiny shit she said in that story.

  Rena remembered one Angel quote: “We sacrifice our own families to prove our faith in Nigel and Naomi.” No way would Cassie say that. She hated her own family. And “faith”? Cassie spit on the word. She believed what she could see and hear and touch.

  Could Nigel and Maya be wrong? Had Rena sent her friend into the cold of the Dead World by mistake? She couldn’t believe that. Nigel loved all the Lifers, even the fallen ones. He’d made the decision for the betterment of all, even Cassie.

  But Cassie’s pain was so huge. Rena had the copper taste of it on her tongue, felt its bitter twist in her bones.

  What if it was a mistake?

  Angel could be a fake, considering what lying scum that reporter was. If there’d been a mistake, then Rena would fix it. Maybe leaving the Life would jolt Cassie into recovery, as Maya said, and if she hadn’t betrayed the Life, she could come back. The idea gave Rena hope.

  For now, she had to lock up and leave. The place was a mess. She didn’t want the Roomers to gossip about Cassie being a slob or a boozer, so she grabbed a trash bag and threw in the beer bottles, then went after the fast-food mess. She spotted a Chinese takeout carton with the dregs of moo shu pork in the bottom. Stolen tastes better.

  Oh, Cassie. Rena had lost her best friend. Everything inside her cramped into a painful knot. She fought the sting of tears. How stupid and weak she was, but she would miss Cassie the way she’d missed her father’s driver. After he got fired, she’d felt invisible, a breath to be walked through, a puff of dust people brushed from their clothes.

  A tap at Cassie’s door made Rena whip around. God, not a neighbor she’d have to explain this to. She shook herself, composed her face, and opened the door to…Gage. Again. Dammit.

  “What are you still doing here?” She stepped back so he could enter.

  “I wanted to check on you.”

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” His concern annoyed her.

  “You’re not fine. You’re shaking.” He rubbed her arms as if to warm her, but she twisted out of his reach. “What was that about?” he demanded, eyes digging in, all business now.

  “It wasn’t for you to see. Just forget about it and go.” She motioned toward the door, but Gage didn’t move.

  “Cassie kept yelling that she wasn’t Angel. They threw her out because they think she’s the source in that story? Why were you here anyway?”

  “I can’t discuss it. Just go.”

  He remained stubbornly in place. “That was what your meeting upstairs was about, wasn’t it?”

  “Let it go, would you?!” Her throat was gravel, her mouth dust.

  “Do you think she’s Angel?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I think.” But it felt like ice in her veins and fire in her chest. She needed him out of here so she could calm down.

  “That was tough. Kicking out a friend. You recruited her, too. Was that why they chose you?”

  “I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter why.” His questions were hot needles in her brain.

  “Were they testing your loyalty? If you’d do this to a friend, you’d do anything they—”

  She slapped him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Quit digging at the Life. You’re the one who should be kicked out, not Cassie.”

  “I’m sorry.” He lifted his hands. “I only want to understand. It seems…harsh. You think that, too, I can tell.”

  “Do I have to call the Watchers to drag you out of here?”

  “God, no. Those guys have biceps bigger than my head.” He was trying to lighten the moment. “I’ll leave when I’m sure they’re gone. I like all my teeth where they are.”

  “All they did was take her down to the van. They’re in their Quarters by now.” She shifted the trash bag to the other hand. “You’re safe. Just go.”

  “Let me help you pick up.” He tugged the plastic from her fingers and she was suddenly too exhausted to fight him. While he picked up trash, she made Cassie’s bed and washed her dishes. Every item she touched made her remember something she and Cassie had done together.

  It hurt to breathe.

  When they’d finished, they took the trash to the maintenance room containers on the way to the elevator. “I’ll walk you to your place,” Gage said.

  “There’s no need.”

  “You look wound up. Will you sleep?”

  “Of course I’ll sleep.” She dreaded lying there, reliving it all, Cassie’s cries and fear, her sadness and pain. No, she wouldn’t sleep a wink.

  “Would it help to talk? We could have a drink?”

  Rena had this bizarre urge to say yes, to let Gage hold her, to cry in his arms. Cry? Rena never cried. Crying meant you were weak and helpless. She stood on her own two feet, handled herself and her troubles just fine. “Is that what you used on Cassie? How about a drink?” she sneered.

  “She asked me to stay until she fell asleep, so I did.” He held her gaze to make sure she believed him.

  “Why would I care? You needed the points and if she got laid one last time, good for her.”

  “She was wasted, Rena. Even if I wanted anything as ridiculous as sex points, that would be the last thing she needed. Again, would you like company?” He sounded so patient, so calm. He kept looking at her that way.

  “You and I are not screwing, Gage. So forget it.”

  “The offer still stands. If you’d rather not be alone.”

  She couldn’t seem to piss him off no matter how mean she got, so she just gave up. “I don’t want company.”

  “You sure?” He studied her. He did that way too much.

  “I’m sure.” She didn’t deserve comfort anyway, not after what she’d done. She owed Cassie all the sorrow she could feel.

  “Where will they take her?”

  “Her mom lives in Surprise, but Cassie hates her. When I recruited her she was living on the streets, hanging with some really scary guys.”

  “So you rescued her.”

  “The Life rescued her. It rescues us all.” And now Rena had forced Cassie out. Her eyes burned. She could see Cassie’s face drained of color, as though her life was leaking away, grabbing at the doorjamb, fighting to stay.

  “Hey…” Gage reached to hold her, but she backed off.

  “I did what had to be done. It’s for the best.” She should not let a new Lifer see any doubts she might have.

  “You’re worried, that’s obvious. So make sure she’s okay. Look her up in the phone book. Her name’s Fletcher, right? What’s her mom’s name?”

  “Ida.” She answered automatically, then shook her
head. “Maya will check on her. She helps the Lost Lives get settled. She’ll get her into rehab.”

  “You could see for yourself.”

  “I don’t need that.” She had faith. She hoped it was enough.

  As Gage disappeared into the elevator, she remembered she’d forgotten to grab Cassie’s room key and drop it off at the Watchers’ station. The Roomers would find it in the morning. At least Cassie’s room would look neat.

  Chapter Six

  Using Cassie’s key, which he’d swiped during the cleanup, Gage took the elevator back to her floor. Hoping to God the guards were tucked safely in bed as Rena had promised, he slid down the empty hall and keyed open Cassie’s room.

  Inside, he headed to the wall beside the bed, where he’d been copying Beth’s code when Rena and the goons busted in. The cell phone shots he’d taken once Cassie drifted off hadn’t been clear enough.

  The important thing was that Beth had lived here. The mural of EverLife characters was in the brick-red ink she favored and in her quirky, cartoon style. The coded letters were in dated blocks of text, one every week for six weeks—possibly a diary as Cassie thought. To know for sure, he had to decode it. The wings and x’s told him how far up or down the alphabet to go, but he had to know which letter was first in the code. Without a key, he’d be stuck with trial and error.

  He set to work, scrawling as fast as he could in case anyone came by to check on the room. The entries could say what Beth was up to, hint at where she’d gone, or they could be a complete waste of time.

  As he copied the letters and shapes, he pictured Beth chewing her bottom lip the way she did when she wrote or drew. She used to use the code whenever their mother went on a rampage as a way to soothe herself. Had Beth been scared here? Worried? About what? She’d made Level Four in what seemed a short time, based on what Rena had told him. Level Four had a decent catalog and the rooms were bigger than that cubicle floor that reeked of cheap noodle soup. How had she climbed so fast?

  To fall for the cult, something had to have been going wrong. Beth put her heart on the line too easily and took the kicks too hard. He’d tried to warn her, to teach her, to help her get some perspective from any troubles she had.