The cops, unfortunately, aren’t very big fans of my handy work. San Fraccuros is a police-governed city, one of the very few still standing along the coastline, too. Their gun laws are tight and the mayor likes to run his mouth and make it clear that anyone who has an unlicensed firearm is going to be put against a wall and taken to hell with it. What does the president say about all of this? Go ahead and figure out which one they are this week, because last I checked, some Nomadic, cyber-tech wearing gang strung him up on the Freedom Isles and let his body get eaten away by a murder of ravenous Fallen Angels on national television. That’s how New America spent its birthday.

  But I don’t really care about voting in the newest soon-to-be corpse when we’ve got to pretend like we don’t have a man’s limp body in the back of our van everytime a police car passes us. The trick isn’t to shoot off into the distance, wheels squealing and guns blazing out the back of the van. Drive like the maniacs around you, which is usually above the speed limit, and mind your business. Since Vicky hitched a ride with Dallas in his bright yellow muscle car dozens of cars ahead of our own, I get to sit shotgun beside May, meaning I’ve got a view in the side mirrors of the Burning Moon going up in flames. A tower of back smoke rises into the sky, almost high enough to get to the AVs up there, too. I can’t help but smile, not even stopping by the time we grab Runt from Lu’s house and head off for the rest of the journey south out of the city and into the Barrens. I think you did a pretty good job.

  I don’t know who Platinum is, and frankly, I don’t really care. Who does he think he is, buying me like I’m some piece of property? Gods know what he even did to me when I was there. Can’t remember anything other than darkness, dull sounds, screaming and thumping and a venomous, white-toothed smile. My memory is in bits and pieces, but I can’t get hung up about any of it right now. I’m gonna cash in after this job and head back home. Mama still needs to figure out who trashed her apartment, then find Jane before I completely lose her. Might not have known the chick for ages, but she was growing on me. Besides, she’s the one person in my life who probably can’t leave, even if she wanted to, considering I’d watched her body get dissolved into bones via soul poisoning.

  “That was metal,” May says quietly. I turn my head to look at her. I only notice now that one of her hands isn’t really hers, but some kind of steel-wear with skin loosely stuck to it. Too rigid, too stiff. Huh. “Burning it all.”

  I shrug and unzip my overalls, getting out of the sweaty, smoke covered thing. “Just another day. Had this one friend called Sam, she would’ve called me a pussy for only burning it. She would’ve wanted an explosion.”

  Speak of the devil, because the ground shudders, soon followed by a whumph of light and sound.

  Guess I spoke too soon.

  “Raise hell, Salem,” Morgan says, thumping my seat. “Raise hell until the Angels come home.”

  May grins, and you know what? I think she’s kinda cute, with those freckles and short hair pulled into a ponytail, but that’s the adrenaline talking. My racing heartbeat wanting something to latch itself onto. Excess energy and all that, so I’ll keep it in my pants for now. “Bitchin’,” she says. “Remind me to rig a few next time.”

  “There’s not meant to be a next time,” Astrid says from behind us. “This was meant to be a one-time job and you’ve now put us into a situation where Platinum is going to want to find whoever burned down his club.”

  “Let the bastard come,” I say, folding my arms. “I’ll set him on fire, too.”

  Morgan chuckles. “I like this broad.”

  “I can help!” Runt says.

  “Hell yeah, kid. I like your enthusiasm. Who’s up for round two, huh?”

  The blocky radio sitting on the dashboard crackles, then: “I’d prefer that we didn’t try our luck. It was a lot easier than I would’ve thought it would be, but I won’t tempt fate by spitting in her face, so we’ll count out lucky stars and keep our heads low. There’s gonna be a traffic stop heading out of Frac in a few minutes, so you girls better be on your best behavior or I swear to the gods none of you is getting paid. Drive smart, be smart, and for the love of all that’s holy, please don’t be stupid. All it takes to set these guys off is a gust of wind, and next thing you know, you’ve got their gun in your face and a bullet munching on your brains.” Runt giggles and gags. “We’ll keep radio chatter low until you pass Magtroleum’s drilling stations. Pretty hard not to miss. Old, derelict, bunch of raiders. Won’t be stopping until we hit a gas station. Toilet, water, then we’re back on the road. The Barrens are too iffy for a nap, so if you’re gonna sleep, do it from the police stop to the drilling station. After that, I need everyone awake.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “She talks like we’re some pricks in the military,” I mutter.

  “You should’ve seen the time she made Morgan spit-polish her sneakers because she blew ten grand on a baseball bat,” May says. “Girl was fumin’ the entire day, trynna use a toothbrush and saliva to clean her shoes.”

  I whistle quietly. “Old World dollar or…?”

  “The Asian kind,” she says. Holy hells. Ten grand asdol on a bat? That can buy me a penthouse in Oceanica and a cute maid who’d serve me cocktails whenever I wanted. “Vic nearly blew an artery yelling at her.”

  “Worth every dime,” Morgan says, patting the metal bat sitting beside her.

  Astrid grabs the radio and says, “I’ll make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible. We won’t be too far behind. We’ll radio in every thirty minutes to make sure you know where we are. But…I’ve got a question.”

  “Shoot,” Victoria says. “Got one chance before you’ve got to sit on it for a handful of hours, babe.”

  “It’s about Kacey,” she says. I look into the mirror and meet her eyes. We’re getting into the outskirts of Frac, and that means more palm trees, more strung up purple and yellow lights that splash their color onto our faces everytime we pass them. “Her actions at the Burning Moon mean that Platinum is going to want to find us, yes?”

  “Probably,” Vicky says. “But we’re not sticking around to find out. Besides, that’s all Kacey. If he’s got a problem with someone, it’s her, not us.” We sit in silence for a moment, the van going over a street that hasn’t been paved properly in years. I chew on my tongue and look out the window, my stomach swimming, but not with nerves and not with betrayal—this is just how it works, and I’m fine with that. You get in a hunting party and you piss off a Warlock, then that’s your problem, just as long as everyone’s cut isn’t tampered with in the end. Had enough screw ups in the past to know that getting cut is just survival. No beef or lingering hatred. Just gotta do what’s good for you and the majority. I guess that’s why I haven’t seen my siblings in years. “Anything else you need to ask, Sid?”

  “None,” Astrid says. “Good luck. We’re coming to the checkpoint. We’ll see you at the drilling station.”

  “Copy that,” Vicky says. “V, out.”

  The radio clicks, going dead. Astrid holds onto it, folding her arms. “Best behavior.” We meet eyes again in the rearview mirror. No warmth in there to find. No hospitality. “I don’t need another fuck up, is that clear?”

  Nobody says anything, and I figure it’s better to turn up the music, drowning out Hark’s swearing.

  Runt, though, sticks her head between the gap of our sweets, baseball cap backwards and a lick of hair coming loose in front of her face. “Kacey?” she whispers, tugging my sleeve. I lean in. “You’re really cool.”

  I can’t help but smile and ruffle her hair. “Keep eating your veggies and you’ll be better than me.”

  “What if I wanna be like you instead?” she asks. “That means I don’t have to eat all of them, right?”

  I put my arms behind my head. “Trust me,” I mutter, looking into the rearview mirror—Astrid’s silvery eyes glow the same color as her sword, everything else illuminated as the Burning Moon and the neon city lights our tiny van, “the last thing you want to be is me. Be your own thing, live your own life.” I look back at her and smile. “And raise all the right kinds of hell, but make it yours.” I turn back around and angle the rearview mirror, making sure I don’t have to see Astrid’s glare in its reflection anymore. I shut my eyes and let the party city central flicker past my window, May quietly humming to herself and Morgan reading through a magazine; Juniper fast asleep and Runt bothering Astrid with all kinds of questions. In some ways, I think, it kinda feels like being with them again.

  But I guess the Valentine Guild died with her leader, and some dreams just don’t last.

  Unless you’ve got the money to pay for the monthly subscription, of course.

  Who knows? Maybe after this gig, I might just be able to afford it.