Broken People (2 page)

By the light coming in through the windows,
Dale found his way across the attic and looked outside. He didn’t
spot any suspicious activity in the street, but he picked up the
infrared binoculars from the windowsill to double check. The food
stands were closed at this hour, and most of the beggars had left,
too. A patrol officer chatted with the working girl stationed
outside the bar next door. It must be a slow night for both of
them.

Something moved in a corner of the square.
The little girl was still there, hidden under a pile of flattened
cardboard boxes. At least the rain had let up, turning into a soft
drizzle that promised to stop soon.

Dale’s eyes trailed to the heavily decorated
building at the end of the street. The entire top floor glowed like
a symphony of lights, but only the room with a balcony interested
him—more accurately, the woman sitting and writing at the desk
interested him. Tiny golden flashes surrounded her hands as they
moved over the papers. There was his solution.

It took guts to approach the Golden Lady,
but it was worth the risk if he could convince her to help him. If
he couldn’t … well, there were other ways. Decision made, Dale
towel dried most of the water from his hair and changed his jacket.
He moved the guns to the new one and hid a blade in his boot. He
didn’t expect a need to use them, but one could never be sure in
this line of work.

After checking on Cole one last time, he
left the building. The cold October air hit him hard, making him
shudder. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Dale headed towards the
rag bundle hiding behind the steps.

A pair of eyes set too close together fixed
on him, watching his every move.

When only one meter separated them, he bent
his knees to get to her level. The little girl scrambled back and
pressed herself against the wall, ready to bolt. He wouldn’t have
been surprised to hear her growl. She sat there, her bottom lip
trembling while she stared at him, eyes wide.

Dale pulled his right hand out of his pocket
and held it out, palm open.

The girl yelped at the sight of the shiny
coins and scrambled forward, rushing to cover them with her good
hand. Then she glanced up and down the street to see if anyone had
noticed the small fortune.

“There will be more for you if you take me
to see the Golden Lady,” Dale said in a whisper.

The inquisitive glare shifted from him to
the balcony, and after a few seconds of struggle, greed won and the
girl nodded for him to follow her.

“Just a moment,” Aurore said, calmly
finishing adding up the long column of numbers before looking at
the man standing in the doorway.

Tall, dark, and handsome, for those who
liked the roguish type, but the short black hair and cold, gray
eyes made no impression on her. She paid more attention to the set
of his jaw and the way he carried himself when he advanced into the
office. Strong physique, though too light for a bouncer. This was a
man who knew what he wanted and was used to getting it.

He didn’t avoid eye contact while he crossed
the room and continued to hold her gaze after stopping in front of
her desk. He was a little too close for comfort, but he’d been
searched before being allowed to come upstairs, so she didn’t fear
him. Besides, no one dared attack the Golden Lady.

Satisfied with her assessment, Aurore put
down the stylus and leaned back in her chair. A pair of lacy gloves
rested on the corner of the desk, but she didn’t bother putting
them on. She wouldn’t hide in her own home. If he dared to barge in
here, he better put up with the sight of her hands, too.

“Little Rosie told me you have something for
me…,” she said, pausing to give him another up and down look.
Scruffy, old but good boots, a jacket that had seen better days …
not flashy, but all good quality clothes. He was not from around
here. Not a low-life, small-time scum, either. A hint of worry
around the eyes combined with determined lines at the corners of
his mouth. Ah. The man was desperate. “Or, more exactly, what can I
do for you, Mr. …?”

“Dale Armstrong,” the man said. “I need
access to your technician.”

He had guts, Aurore had to grant him that.
If that was what he needed, no wonder her golden hands didn’t
bother him.

“You can’t afford my technician,” she said.
He didn’t argue. “Since you know that already, why come to me?”

“You own all the jewelry stores in the
city,” Dale said.

Aurore nodded. “That’s common
knowledge.”

“You also own all the pawn shops.”

She didn’t advertize that part of her
business, but most people knew it anyway. “So?” Throwing her
business into her face was not the right way to win her
cooperation.

“You’re the only one who’s part of both
worlds. One way or the other, you’re most likely to find me what I
need.”

Sound reasoning, but it didn’t explain how
he planned to pay for it. Aurore brought her hands together and
tapped her fingers on her chin. The artificial skin that covered
her prosthetics was warm and soft to the touch. “What is it that
you need exactly?”

“A good and trustworthy technician.”

“A good technician is hard to find these
days,” Aurore said. “There aren’t many left.”

“That’s why I came to you. I don’t want a
hack. I want a good one.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. Besides,
mine has gone to Vienna and won’t return before the end of
November. Come back then, and maybe we’ll talk.”

“I can’t wait that long.”

She straightened her back, ready to stand up
to him and the anger boiling below the carefully constructed, calm
appearance. The tension in his eyes gave it away. Had someone
wronged him? “Funny, you don’t strike me as someone who wears
prosthetics.”

“It’s not for me.”

“Ah….”

She waited for him to continue, but he
didn’t volunteer more information, and she didn’t particularly care
to listen. It was time to send the visitor on his way.

“Regardless—” Aurore got up and walked
around the desk so he could see her golden knees peeking from
between the hem of her white skirt and the top of her beige, deer
leather boots, “—you will have to wait. I don’t have anyone else
waiting in the wings for a job like yours to show up.”

“You don’t know what my job is,” Dale said
between gritted teeth. In two steps, he had a blade pressed against
her throat. “My friend has burned his arms. I have only two weeks,
and I need him to be able to use his hands by then. So think
hard.”

This wasn’t good. The security downstairs
was obviously slacking. She’d have to do something about that.
Instead of panicking, Aurore held up her right hand. It was
perfect, all except for the golden glow. “Do I look like I
care?”

It took him a couple seconds for the words
to sink in. “Well, there goes my leverage,” he said, releasing
her.

“There wasn’t much leverage to begin with,”
Aurore said, resisting the urge to check her neck. He acted too
much like a professional to have nicked her.

Dale shrugged with a rueful smile. “So, are
you going to set your goons on me?”

“Yes, sorry. I have a reputation to
protect.” She reached for a button on her desk. “What happens in
two weeks?”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I can get my
‘goons’ to make you spill it.” Her hand froze on the button.
“You’re not from here, and you need a pair of working hands by a
certain date. What happens in two weeks?” Aurore’s hand hovered
above the button, next to an ad for the museum open night and a
Nightingale Circus flyer.

Dale’s eyes briefly stopped on the two
flyers.

“You want to enter the Hrad?” The open night
was scheduled in two weeks, which meant access to the Bratislava
Castle would also be free. “That’s a bold move. Why didn’t you say
so?”

“So you can send me to a hack technician? If
it works, fine. If it doesn’t, fine,” Dale said. “You’re the
mayor’s protégé, but even you wouldn’t get away with it if I got
caught. There’s a fortune stored inside the Hrad. That’s how I was
planning to pay you. You’re into jewelry. There must be something
you’d want in there.”

He didn’t know even half of it. There
was
something she wanted badly, but it wasn’t jewels.

“Well, in that case…” Aurore hesitated, her
eyes scanning the desk. “I know someone who might be able to help.
He doesn’t only do maintenance. He builds things from scratch. Of
course, it depends on how badly your friend is injured and if you
can keep him out of harm’s way long enough…” Catching a glimpse of
the surprised look that flashed over Dale’s face, she smiled. “Do
you think I don’t know what’s happening in my city, right across
the street from me?” Shaking her head, she picked up the flyer and
handed it over. “Ask for Big Dino.” From a drawer, she pulled out a
business card with gold engraving, handing that over, as well.
“Tell him I sent you.
Do not
tell him how you plan to pay
for his work, just say I guarantee you.”

Dale slipped the two pieces of paper in his
pocket and started for the door. In the doorway, he turned. “Why
did you change your mind?”

“We haven’t had any excitement in this town
in way too long. But it will cost you…”

The polished set of knives gleamed in front
of Spinner. Rake still sharpened his across the table from him.

“I don’t like this,” Spinner said, gingerly
putting the knives away in their box. He kept only one out with
which to practice. After days of practicing in a moving train car,
it felt weird to do it while the car stood still.

“You should consider a change of career
then,” Rake said. “By the way, you need to adjust your fields. I
nearly cut you earlier today.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my fields.” To
demonstrate, Spinner made the knife glide up and down the entire
length of his arm without the assistance of either hand. “See? It’s
your knives that aren’t properly balanced.”

Rake grunted, focused on sharpening the
blade.

“But that isn’t what I meant.” Spinner put
the knife down on the table and had it turn in circles around his
open hand. His fingers tingled from the extra charge, but it was
good practice. “I don’t like that Miss Aurore wants to do business
with us, not when Big Dino can’t deal with her.”

“We will,” Rake said, without looking up
from his blade. “We’ve handled his business before, and we will do
it again.”

“Yes, but—” Spinner shuddered, “—she creeps
me out.”

“Because you’re such a handsome fellow,”
Rake drawled out slowly, testing the blade on the tip of his index
finger. He stopped pressing before breaking the skin.

Spinner glanced at his bulky arms and
shoulders, bulging in places where mechanical parts were hidden. He
didn’t need to use the blade as a mirror to know he was far from
being handsome. Scars left by old war wounds covered his body, the
same as Rake. He could have had them removed, the skin was the
easiest to regenerate, but Big Dino liked the badass look. It fit
the parts they played in the circus. “I wasn’t here when Big Dino
fixed her, but all we hear is what awesome work he did.”

“Too bad she hates it.” Rake put his
sharpening tools away.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t stop him from
considering her his masterpiece. He would leave her the circus if
he could.”

“Then we’d get to park the train on her
front lawn,” Rake deadpanned.

“Does she have a lawn?” Spinner asked. “I
thought she lived—”

“Beats me. I haven’t been in the city in two
years, ever since they banned us to this abandoned railway
track.”

Spinner let out a sigh. “It’s a miracle we
get customers at all.”

“We’ll always get customers,” Rake said with
a pointed look.

People in need would find them even if the
circus was camped kilometers away from the city, but Spinner wanted
an audience for their shows, too. Being stationed on the other side
of the river made that difficult, and the rain wasn’t helping
things, either.

The air vibrated, and Spinner raised his
hand in time to grasp the knife flying his way. He caught it, but
his grip slipped, and it flew past him and got stuck in the
wall.

Spinner winced and answered Rake’s arched
eyebrow, “It’s not the field. It’s my wrist that’s acting up. I’ll
have a look at it in the morning.”

Rake nodded and went to retrieve his knife.
The new hole in the wall had joined an already large collection,
proof that Spinner’s wrist slipped often. At least he caught the
knives when it counted.

The car door opened, and a wave of cold air
burst inside, along with clouds of mist that surrounded the tall
silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Nicholas, how nice of you to join us!”
Spinner jumped up from his chair. While standing, the other two men
towered over him, but he compensated with the bulk of his arms.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Brrr … It got
pretty chilly out there,” Nicholas said with an easy smile,
removing his white gloves and top hat. His black hair shone in the
fluorescent light. “A little bird told me you could use my help.
What can I do for you?”

“We’re expecting a potential client,”
Spinner said. “We need you to speak to him for us.”

“Won’t Big Dino mind?” Nicholas asked. “I
wouldn’t want to step on his toes. This is his business.”

“Big Dino hasn’t been conscious in two
days,” Rake said. “It’s unlikely he’ll wake up tonight.”

“Ah … I see.” Nicholas shrugged off his coat
and straightened the lapels of his tailcoat. “Of course, I’ll help
if I can, although you’ll have to guide me through the process as I
know nothing of your trade.”

“We’ll take over once he explains his
problem. Don’t worry,” Spinner said. “All you have to do is nod
when we tell him the price.”