“My wife, Lucy.” Stone said as he squeezed Aesira’s hand. Vic’s brows shot up. “She’s one of us.”
One of us.
“Stone the viper, a husband?” Vic took one of the bubbling drinks from a tray and swallowed it back. “You must be a specialwoman to get this man to settle down.” He snapped his fingers and a fresh drink replaced his empty one. “And what do you do, Lucy?”
This was the test and she was ready for it. She slipped her hand from Stone’s and tucked a curl behind her ear.
Feign innocence. Politeness. Make him think you’re anyone but you.
“I’m an artist,” she said, her voice higher than usual. Sweeter, too. She knew how to play this game. Knew when to soften her edges to give the illusion that a man was in charge. “Sculpting, most recently, has been my muse. Though I couldn’t help but admire the oil paintings.”
She pointed to the ghastly row of portraits lining the wall. All men and their secrets and gazes full of hunger. “They’re so well done.” This earned her a smile from Vic, but more rewarding, Stone’s hand slid around her, squeezing her hip just once.
Vic moved to one of the tufted chairs, they joined him. The bubbles in her glass had stopped popping, teasing her to take a drink.
“Thank you for allowing me in. My husband was very excited to see you.” She placed her hand on Stone’s knee. It was subtle, the way he jerked under her touch, but he corrected himself and snaked his fingers with hers.
Cords of gray smoke encircled Vic’s face as he took a deep puff from a cigar and reclined into the chair. “Stone has been a friend for a long time.” Smoke billowed from his mouth as he spoke, distorting his face. “I’ll be honest though,” he said, “I was surprised to hear it was you at my door. Especially how things ended the last time I saw you.”
“Just been busy since I got out,” Stone said. His voice was hard, his eyes sharp behind his glasses.
Vic snubbed out his cigar in the thick glass bowl on the table. “What are you doing here, Stone? Looking to get your old job back?” Vic’s laugh was not humorous, but cold and deep and filled with threat. “Not getting paid enough with that royal money?”
“We’re only visiting–”
“Bull shit, viper.” Vic leaned forward, his brows bunching together like a fissure in the granite he was carved from. “You haven’t been back to the Outpost in years. You took off with half my crew, left us high and dry with routes to be worked and no smugglers to work them and now you show up with this little number out of the blue.” He nodded at Aesira, his lip snarling. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want my job back.” Stone’s voice remained steady, unnerved, but the hand that was still holding Aesira squeezed tighter. “I don’t need it anymore. I’m a free man.”
“The brilliant Stone Odega. Always so fucking arrogant.” Vic laughed, snapping his fingers for another drink. “I wasn’t offering.”
“We’re just visiting.” Stone slid his hand from hers and emptied his entire drink. He grimaced before slamming the glass down on the table. “You’re being rude to my wife,” he said. “Now drink with me, celebrate like old times, stop acting like a fucking prick.”
Aesira’s heart galloped in her chest. What was he doing? No drinking was the first and most absolute rule he gave her. Stone waved one of the women down with the flowing skirts and grabbedanother glass.
“There he is.” Vic laughed and grabbed a glass of his own. “Welcome back, viper.” They clinked their glasses together and drank.
You could tell a lot about a person by the way they acted when they were drunk. It started with a shift in body language.
Stone, who typically held his shoulders high and his jaw tight, now lounged in the chair with a broad smile spread over his face. His hands, which were taking turns grabbing another glass and resting on Aesira’s knee, were now enthusiastically swiping through the air as he told Vic the story of the sandstorm they flew through on the way here.
“Gusts so big they sent swells of sand clear up to the masts.”
Aesira didn’t know Stone well, but she liked to think she knew him enough to know that if he were sober, this story would be a lot more dry. So while she was entertained to see him so relaxed, she was also doubling up her guard. She would need to be alert for the both of them, now. She would also, it seemed, need to somehow remind herpartnerof the reason they came here tonight. To find information about Desmond.
“Stone,” she said as his story dwindled and Vic rose to use the restroom. His glasses were off, tucked into the front pocket of hisshirt. His eyes were glassy as he tried to find focus on her face. “What happened to not drinking?”
He shrugged. “Need to make him believe we’re only here to celebrate. Figured this was the best way to put him at ease.” He wrapped a finger around one of her curls. “You’re very pretty,” he said through a lazy smile. “But I’m going to be sick.”
“Oh no you’re not,” she warned. “Pull it together.” She clipped the last word short as Vic returned with a fresh round of drinks. He handed one to Stone, then the other to Aesira. Stone had somehow managed to polish off her drinks while Vic wasn’t looking before, but as he raised his glass for a toast, she knew she’d have to partake.
“To the happy couple.” Vic’s gaze slid to Aesira’s dipping to her chest briefly. She clenched her jaw. “May your love be endless.” Stone mumbled a garbled ‘here, here,’ before tossing his drink back. Vic took a slow sip, keeping his eyes on her.
Damnit.
She pressed the glass to her lips. The sweet bubbles popped when they hit her tongue, but burned as she swallowed. She looked at Vic again, who wore a smile like he’d just won first place in some sick race.
“How long will you be in the Outpost?” Vic asked.
