She sighed, laid the shoulder holster on the bed, and slipped the gun free.Loaded, a baby Glock with a full mag and one in the chamber, functioning perfectly.She set it on the nightstand and stripped down to T-shirt and panties, breathing a sigh of relief when she unsnapped and struggled out of her bra under the shirt.Given Cath’s habit of stripping down, she shouldn’t worry about being modest, but old habits died hard, if at all.
At least the sheets were clean, smelling of bleach and industrial fabric softener.Rowan lay still, muscles unwilling to let go of wakefulness.There was a certain point of nervous endurance past which it was almost impossible to fall asleep.She closed her eyes and began to breathe long, deep breaths, just like meditation.
Like sitting with her back against Justin’s, feeling his brain shift into the smoothness of alpha waves and doing her best to follow.Finding that magic space, sinking into a timeless eternity.It was like meditating with Yoshi, too, only with the absolute safety of Justin’s attention closed around her.
Even while he slept he never lost track of her, his mind never quite slipping free of the borders of hers.
Rowan exhaled, peace loosening her muscles.She drifted closer to sleep, closer, closer.
Just before she went over the edge, she seemed to feel a brush against her cheek.Gentle fingers, callused from practice, skating over her cheekbone.
Rest, angel.Comfort wrapping around her, a familiar touch.She would have tried to wake up, but she was tipped into the black well of unconsciousness before she could protest.
Rowan gazed at the laptop screen.“Okay.We’re hitting the Venetian first.I feel a little bad about this.”
“Why?”Cath checked the automatic’s slide and racked a mag, the sound loud in the room’s hush.“They have more than enough.”
You don’t get it, do you?The girl was not overly given to deep analysis; maybe it was her age.Was I ever this oblivious?“It’s not our money.We’re basically stealing.”
Cath chambered a round, slid the gun into the holster under her left armpit.Next were a pair of stilettos, up her sleeves.Her fair, round face was serious, set in its childish lines, soft mouth drawn tight.She’d taken out her nose piercings, her tongue stud, her eyebrow ring, and most of her earrings as well.“You’re right, we are.But people come here to throw their money away.We need some of it to fight Sigma.What the hell’s wrong with you?”Her hair, damp from the shower, lay seal-sleek.
“I just feel bad, that’s all.”Rowan finished the last string, looked at the results.Code flashed; she barely saw it anymore since the message was clear.“Looks like Yoshi’s worked his magic, as usual.They’re all fine.”And Henderson’s getting ready for a run on a Sigma installation.Wonderful.If I didn’t know better, I’d say the man was suicidal.
“Good.Now worry about us.”Cath sounded uncharacteristically nervous.When Rowan glanced over, she saw pale cheeks and tasted a shimmer of acid yellow fear.
Rowan wondered if this was what having children was like.She was just as nervous, but hiding it far better.Ifshewent off the rails, the younger woman would go nuts.
“Iamworrying about us, porcupine girl.Relax.This is going to go like clockwork.All you have to do is tickle the little roulette ball and let me worry about the rest.We’ll hit a couple of casinos and make up the rest at the track this afternoon and tomorrow.”
“I hate horse races.”Cath’s mouth pulled tighter.Muscle moved under goth-pale skin as she rolled her shoulders back.Her holster would chafe if she insisted on wearing just a tank top and the light jacket.Then again, this was a desert town.It was going to be a scorcher.“You sure you’re okay, Ro?I got a bad feeling about all this.”
“Just nervousness.Everything’s going to go fine.”Rowan closed the laptop.If all went well, she would never have to see this room again.They would find a motel for tonight and be well out of town tomorrow night, after finishing at the track.
Moving around was the best way to avoid unwanted attention.
The curtains were pulled tight, but the desert morning outside was already sending spears of light through the cracks.There was a bright, narrow strip under the door, too.Just the thing for scorpions to scuttle through.She set the sleek black deck aside, unplugged the cord, wrapping deftly and stowing gear in the larger kitbag.
She was going to sweat today too; there was no way around it.
The clicking sound of mags checked and slid in, rounds chambered, and the soft sliding sound of each knife’s action tested were all familiar, comforting.She was getting better at throwing knives, due to Brew’s patient tutelage.
Still, she would have felt better if Justin were here.He was an acknowledged master of making a blade do things it shouldn’t theoretically be able to do.A slight side-effect of Sigma training,he’d once remarked wryly to her, working a knife out of a block of wood.When you want quiet, quick, and dirty, it’s knifework.Sometimes the poor bastards even forget they have guns.
Finally, she shrugged into the cream-colored linen suit jacket Yoshi had found somewhere.Very Miami Vice.All I need is stubble and loafers with no socks.I amsonot ready for this.“As ready as I can be,” she muttered, and looked up to find Cath watching.
The younger woman’s eyes were wide.“I remember when you came in.You didn’t even know what end of a gun to hold.I used to think Del was crazy, trying to teach you the way around a sparring match.”
Me too.It had taken Rowan months to snap out of the daze of apathetic fear.
“I learned.”Rowan crossed cheap brown carpet and peered out at the floodlit glare of a Vegas morning.“Just like you did, just like he did.”The parking lot already shimmered with heat above pavement, the freshness of morning boiled away by a merciless sun.“Shit, we’re going to sweat today.We should have gotten up earlier.”
“We’d be conspicuous.There’ll be a good crowd by now to hide us.”Cath levered herself off the bed.“You look nice.Wish you’d let me dye your hair.”
“Everyone today is going to swear I’m a brunette, and the tapes will be scrambled anyway once we leave.”The corner of Rowan’s mouth tilted up, a lopsided smile.“So much simpler than going to a salon.”
“Clairol for Psions.”Cath grinned, tension breaking and peeling away.“Only for you, I’d pick a nice deep purple.Or mahogany, seeing as how you’re such a straight-arrow.”
Rowan heaved a mental sigh of relief.If Cath got nervous in a casino, they would have a harder time doing this.
