“Only for stars. Big stars. Bigger than any of us will ever be.”
“You don’t know that. They could-they might-”
“Marade-” I hold her closer. Even through the dust and sweat, the scent of her hair-
I better forget that shit before I turn into one of those kinda sick guys I was ripping on a minute ago. “Marade, listen. I didn’t tell you this before-or anyone-because, y’know, I didn’t know for sure that any of you were. . in our line of work. But those guys-those two guys the Black Knives were chasing? The ones who led them here? What did you think happened to them?”
“I–I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it. I suppose I thought the Black Knives caught them.”
“No. They were pulled. Transferred home.”
She stiffens against my chest. “Pulled? They were-”
“Yeah. They were-like us. In our line. Sort of.”
“But-see? Don’t you see? That’s what I was talking about-”
“No. It wasn’t an emergency transfer. I’m pretty sure it was planned.”
“Planned-?” She’s gone breathless. I’m not having an easy time of it myself.
“I’m pretty sure they were bird-dogging us. That they led the Black Knives here. On purpose. For the bosses. Because we were here.”
“That’s-that’s not possible. They don’t do that kind of-they wouldn’t.”
“You sure? Think about it: at least three, maybe four or five of us. Or more. Nobody major. Nobody even big enough that we’d ever heard of each other. It costs a lot of fucking money to train and transfer us. How can they-the bosses, our sponsors, whatever-how do they recover their investment, when none of us’ll ever be big enough to generate our own audience?”
“You’re saying-you think-”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Oh, great Khryl-oh my fierce courageous God-”
“Yeah. This Adventure . . our Adventure-” I shake my head, helpless to soften this much.
Or at all.
So I just say it. “It’s a snuffer.”
“You can’t-you can’t know this-”
“Know it? I can feel it. So can you.” And something about this strikes me funny, in a frostbite-on-the-balls sort of way. My laugh comes out bleak as our future.
“There are people back home who’ll pay a lot to be us while we’re tortured to death. That’s what we are. All we are. Victims in a snuffer.”
Now I get Stalton. Really get him. I understand about not going out like a punk.
“Then-” She pulls away, just a little; her impossibly powerful hands still rest lightly upon my collarbone and my pectoral. From the shift in the soft timbre of her voice I can hear she’s turned her face from mine. “Then we shouldn’t give them the satisfaction. We should just. . die. Die here. Like Rababal. Right here in this room. In the darkness. My weapon is on the floor; your clothes and that last knife of yours are beside them. You are an assassin. I know you are. If I asked you, Caine-if I asked, would you-?”
“No.”
“Caine-”
“No.”
Through the palms of her hands I feel her tremors flickering back to life. “Must I-if I beg-”
“Not a chance. Not you. Not ever.”
And please God don’t let her ask what she could do to persuade me. I’m afraid I might tell her.
So before she can get around to it, I pull her close. This isn’t my Comfort the Sobbing Chick hug.
This is my Can You Feel My Heart Beating hug.
Her breasts spread softness across my chest, and I put my cheek to hers and I whisper, “I have a better idea.”
“Caine-I don’t-”
“Remember what I said, back when this started?” I turn into her just enough that she can feel the motion of my lips against her skin. “I always have a better idea.”
“But-”
“No. Listen to me. If we die here, here in this room-shit, that’ll just prove they were right about us. Don’t you get it? Why should we do those fuckers the favor of confirming their shit-ass opinions?”
Now her arms go around me and they tighten like a playful anaconda. A trace of awe colors her murmur. “Wait-I understand. That’s it-what you’ve been after. This whole night. Ever since you saw them in the badlands. Your insane boldness. The lunatic confidence, the screw-you attitude. The speeches. Walking out to face the Black Knives alone. .”
“Goddamn right. That’s the best revenge we have, you get it? The only one we have. People used to say the best revenge is living well. Dying well is almost as good.”
I put my lips to her neck just behind her ear and whisper, “We can make them sorry they did this to us. We can make them weep for all the money we would have earned them-”
I slide my lips down her long smooth throat, and she lifts her chin to let me taste her to the collarbone. “And to do that we have to fight. We have to keep fighting. No matter what. Even when the Black Knives take us. Even when they torture us. We have to not quit. That’s our revenge: we’ll make those bean-counting shit-lickers mourn the stars we would have been.”
“Yes.” Her arms squeeze some more, and she better let up before I pass out. “Yes-I see it. .”
But now she goes gentle again and pulls away, and one of her hands goes back to my chest, her palm a wall of muscle and bone. “Caine. . do you really mean we?”
A tiny whisper, young and lost but still thinking it might be found: “Do you really think. . I mean, we knew-you know, about you. Everyone expected you to be a star. But do you-do you think. .?”
Her whisper trails away, but I know what she’s asking. “Yes. Absolutely. No doubt about it.”
“Really?”
The breath of hope in her voice is so faint it’s breaking my heart.
“Don’t lie to me, Caine. Not now. You really think I could have. . have been a star? That we could? Tizarre and I?”
“Marade-” If only she could know how much I mean this. “Marade, you are a star.”
Her hand is trembling again, and my heart is going with it. Better not stop now. Dunno if I’ll have the guts to start again. “I can’t say about Tizarre. She’s-nervous, y’know? Self-conscious. But you-the first time I ever saw you, I knew. I didn’t know you’re in the business, but I can tell a natural on sight. You’re already a bigger star than I’ll ever be.”
“Really?” Her voice is hushed. “You believe that?”
Here, safe in the dark, I don’t mind saying it. “Sure. What am I? A ghetto throat-cutter with a shitty attitude. But you? You’re . . magnificent. An honest to-shit Knight in Shining Armor. You walk into a room and people forget what they were talking about. You are all presence. Confidence and power. Grace in motion. You make people want to get on their knees and hope you might notice them.”
I take her hand from my chest and lift it to my face. Even blind, she might feel my conviction. “You’re a hero. A real hero. The best kind. Upright. Virtuous. Loyal. Defend-the-weak and your-strength-is-the-strength-of-ten-because-your-heart-is-pure, and everything that makes people love heroes in the first place. What makes people wish they could be heroes, too. The best in all of us, you know? Lancelot and Percival and Arthur all in one. And to top it all off-” I give her a come-on-laugh-with-me chuckle. “-you whip mountains of ass.”
“Caine, that’s-if only I was really like that. .”
“You are.”
“But I don’t feel like-inside, I’m not. . not-it’s all an act, Caine. Don’t you see? It’s an act, that’s all.”
“So what?” I shrug. “Why shouldn’t it be? That’s what we are.”
Has this never occurred to her? “What we are is whatever we can make people think we are. That’s what we do. It’s our job. And what I said-everything I said-that’s what I think of you. Which only means you’re really, really good at it. Not to mention that you. . you are-”