Stormblood, стр. 24
Wait for it. Wait for it.
He went for me, just as I’d hoped. I sidestepped, chopped a blow into his sternum, clapped a cupped hand on his ear, and finished with a vicious strike at his windpipe. He coughed and spluttered as I ripped the slingshiv out of his claws.
He froze.
I realised I was holding it against his jugular. White-hot blade ready to slice. The black gel of the grip vibrated against my touch, readjusting to my hand. The stormtech thrashed in my chest like a livewire. One flick of the wrist was all it would take. I imagined blood jetting out, spraying the brick walls red. The thought jolted me and I mentally backed away. Questions first, then I’d decide what to do with him.
‘Who are you?’ I wheezed, keeping him firmly in place and making sure his claws kept their distance from my eye sockets, ‘and what the hell do you want?’ No answer. Only his equally laboured panting. I squeezed harder and leaned close to a pale ear. ‘You’re wasting my time. That makes me unhappy. When I’m unhappy, I do things I shouldn’t. So: what do you want?’
His only response was a sneer. As the artificial sun peeked out from behind thick clouds, its rays streaked down to knife across my face, blinding me. He used the advantage to go limp, dropping to the floor like a boneless fish and propelling himself out of my range. We faced each other across the stinking alley, chests heaving. My body gurgling with the rush of adrenaline, my hand clenching his slingshiv. Sweat stung my wounds. Part of me hoped he’d rush me, body hunched forward in combat-anticipation even as the other part of me clamped down on the feeling.
He flexed his claws as he backed away, bloodied nails extending with the sound of his knuckles cracking. I spat on the pavement, my eyes never leaving his. I’ll be back for you, his expression said as he ducked out of the alleyway and into the crowded Travel Depot. I sank down, breathing hard and fast, as if a switch had been thrown and snapping me out of combat-mode. Because my job wasn’t hard enough, now I had an augmented stalker on my back and I knew zero about what he wanted from me.
At least I could go to Wong’s place unmolested now. I double-checked my nose wasn’t actually broken, and that’s when I noticed the rivulets of blood dripping down my arms and spattering at my feet.
I burst into my apartment, ignored the Rubix’s chirp of Welcome home, Mister Fukasawa, and shouldered the bathroom door open for med supplies.
That bald bastard had cut me in half a dozen places, knowing exactly where to make his mark. No arteries nicked, though not for a lack of trying. The wounds sent sour shivers up my body. Choking down the garbage fumes, I dumped the sealed bags of medical equipment into the sink and sifted through them, the effort of resisting my churning stormtech leaving me in a cold sweat. I found a hypo for the pain, antibodies for infection, and a Sealer to cauterise the wounds. I shrugged carefully out of my soiled underskin to treat the first wound.
Only I didn’t have any.
Nothing on my chest, nothing on my hands. Nothing on my forearms, nothing on my shoulders where metal had cleaved deep into my skin. I had dozens of knife-thin slashes to my underskin and clothes, but no cuts in my flesh.
I leaned back against cold marble and peered down my torso. Blue streams of stormtech were twisting across the ridgeline of my breastbone, over my muscles and between my ribs. Between the alleyway and my apartment, the stormtech had sealed up the lacerations, only an echo of the stinging pain remaining. I’d been so unused to the stormtech doing anything like it I hadn’t even noticed. Shouldn’t even have been possible. When I detoxed the stormtech’s influence over my body, the ability to self-heal had gone with it.
Or not.
I ran my hand over my chest. Half an hour ago I’d had a deep wound right above the breastbone. Now the skin was unbroken and ivy-like strands of blue were whispering over the length of my ribcage, weaving deeper into my system, stirred up by the adrenaline and danger. I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d come so close to killing that man. I shuddered, but something inside me relished the idea. Addiction to bottomless aggression and desire to conquer and destroy had been threaded into every single Reaper. I’d spent years trying to rip it out.
I sprawled against the cold tiles. Wong had still being taking stormtech after all this time. Had it killed her? Or she was targeted like the rest because she’d been a Reaper? Had Artyom known what the poisoned stormtech would do to her? If he had, how could he possibly justify it?
Whatever he was doing, whatever path he wanted to walk in life, it was his own. If things had been different, I’d have let him go his way and I’d go mine, as he wanted. Let Harmony deal with him. Even though the threads of our lives were too tightly entwined for me to slice him off without tearing a part of myself away, too. But our sister had always been the cord that truly tied us together and I couldn’t let her down. Promise me, Vak, Kasia had said. Promise you’ll take care of him.
I’d failed once. Now, though I couldn’t stand by and let Reapers get killed, I couldn’t desert Artyom, either. No matter what, he was my brother and a promise, even a broken one, is a promise.
I exhaled and clenched my fist. Bone-deep biotech spread from my chest, down to my arms like cold fire. And I wasn’t entirely sure that I did not welcome it.
8
Don’t