Sparks’ eye’s narrowed. “You’ll actually talk about it? You swear?”
“Yes. Now go.”
Sparks stood and limped away through the crowd. Watching him leave, Roman felt a pang of guilt, but he pushed the feeling away. He was doing what he needed to do.
“Well… damn.” Tan reached across the table and picked up the steak. He frowned at it. “Waste of a good dinner. It’ll taste like a pig’s arse now that it’s touched your filthy face.”
“Don’t give me too much credit,” Roman said absently, his mind still on the boy. “It tasted like that before.”
“Too true,” Tan said. “Now, I reckon you need my opinion, so I’ll give it to ya.” He started shoveling Roman’s discarded potatoes onto his own plate. “If we do this, it’ll be the same as if we freed him. And that will send a clear message to this whole city — it will be us announcing that we condone freeing Adrenalites. Is that something we wanna do? I don’t think so.”
“But maybe it’s something we need to do,” Ruby said. “Maybe it’s time someone challenged this city’s idea of how to treat Adrenalites.”
Roman bit back his reply. How could she think that? She, of all people, should know why Adrenalites couldn’t be trusted.
“Listen,” Ruby said, “We trusted the boy enough to bring him into the team, and we trusted him enough to activate him at Lady Luck. Compared to that, would this be anything new?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Roman said. “Because it’s never going to happen.”
“Damn it!” Ruby slammed her arrow into the table, tip first. “Then why didn’t you tell Sparks that to his face.”
“Because if he doesn’t believe that we’ll trust him with his own needle, then he won’t help us with this mission.”
“Does anyone want to know my opinion?” Caleb asked.
“Depends,” Tan said.
“On what?”
“On whether your opinion agrees with mine or not.”
“It doesn’t.” Caleb pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Sparks is a good kid. And giving him his own needle might be a risk, but we’d be taking an even bigger risk if we turned him against us. If we refuse him this, he might seriously consider going rogue. And if he does… Well, you’ve all seen him fight.”
Roman considered this. “You’re right. We can’t just refuse the boy. But there is a way that means we don’t have to trust him, either.”
Caleb frowned.
“We’ll tell Sparks that we’ll trust him with his own needles,” Roman continued, “on the condition that he helps us capture Candle first. But we’ll—”
“Never actually give him the needles,” Caleb finished. “And what happens when he finds out we were lying to him the whole time?”
“That won’t matter,” Roman said. “Because there’s something I haven’t told you yet.”
“So now you’re keeping secrets from us?”
“I couldn’t say it in front of Sparks, but there’s a chance for us to end the whole Adrenalite problem. For good.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ashton Spencer. He’s the ex-ministry worker who helped Candle escape. But before that, he was working on creating a new version of defoxican — a serum that would permanently deactivate Adrenalites.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It’s true.”
Tan’s eyes lit up. “That would mean—”
“I know. It would change everything.”
Caleb blew out a cloud of smoke, then gave a low grunt. “Even if that were possible, where is Spencer now?”
“Well…” Roman paused. “That’s the hard part. He’s been captured by Gavin.”
“Ha! And let me guess, Gavin has him locked up in the Haven, the one place where we have no chance of getting to him.”
“That’s our next mission. We need to get him out.”
Tan coughed up a mouthful of potato. “What the fuck? We’d have just as much chance growing mushrooms from our arses.”
“Despite that horrible comparison, Tan’s right,” Caleb said. “Besides, even if such a serum were possible to create, why should I want it used? Being a bounty hunter is my job. If there are no more Adrenalites then I have to go back to being a mercenary.”
Roman turned to Ruby for support. She shrugged. “Tan’s right,” she said. “There’s no way we’re getting Spencer away from Gavin. Everything else is just hypothetical.”
Roman sighed. “Listen,” he said to Tan and Caleb, “I know you both have very different reasons than me for being bounty hunters. But you know my reasons, so you know that even if you walk away right now, I’m still going to capture Spencer and kill Candle. Or I’m going to die trying.”
Tan finished his last mouthful and pushed his plate away. “Ah damn it. Roman, you know I owe you everything. So even though I think this plan is a fucking disaster waiting to happen… I’m in.”
“I appreciate it, Tan. Honestly.”
Roman turned to Caleb. The giant kept silent, taking long, deep puffs from his cigarette. Roman reached into his jacket, pulled out his revolver, and laid it on the table. “If we do this,” he said, “and Spencer creates the serum, then I won’t need this anymore.”
Caleb smiled. “For the record, I was already going to say yes.
“Thank you.” Roman smiled. “Now, before we work out how the hell we abduct Spencer, we need a debrief. Caleb, did Sparks get any useful information on Candle before he was beaten to a pulp?”
Caleb shook his head.
“Damn.” Roman turned to Tan. “Did you find anything from Spencer’s apartment?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I found something.” Tan shrugged. “It seems that there’s more to Candle’s strange antics than just leaving candles behind.”
“What do you mean?”
“In the house, the fuse box had been destroyed, and every single wire was cut. Plus, he did the same thing in the neighboring buildings.”
Roman frowned. Why would Candle destroy fuse boxes? Why did he care about the city’s electricity?
The sound of screaming tore Roman from his thoughts. He sat bolt upright, picked up his revolver, leapt to his feet, and shoved through the crowd as he dashed for the door. His free hand reached into his coat and pulled out his defoxican needle.
Bursting into the outside chill, he nearly tripped over a man curled up on the ground. The man screamed as he stared at his own arm — his own broken arm, to be specific. His forearm bent at a ninety-degree angle.
Sparks was standing in the middle of the street, bouncing on his feet, grinning. Five men circled around him, obviously drunk. Obviously angry.
Roman returned his gun and needle to his coat. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded.
The boy finally noticed him. “They started it. I swear!”
One of the men took the opportunity to stumble at Sparks, fists flailing. In a heartbeat, Sparks sent him to the ground, then jumped on his back and stomped on the back of his head.
The rest of the men began to back away.
Roman, on the other hand, marched forward and punched Sparks in the face.
Sparks stumbled backwards, clutching his cheek. “What the hell? I told you, they started it.”
“But you enjoyed it. You’re an arrogant, violent and naive kid. And all this—” Roman pointed back at the man with the broken arm “—just proves why I can’t trust you.”
“I’m not a kid.”
“That’s the term you take offense to?”
Sparks scowled. “Shut your damn mouth or I’ll leave. And then what will you do? You’ll be screwed. I know you need my help because you’re weak!”