sense of Jordan that made their separation even more uncomfortable. He needed her. He couldn’t lose her so soon after finding her. He didn’t want to be alone again.
“You of all people deserve it.” Viv’s smile suddenly dropped its humor. “Now what is a Chimera agent doing in my Rêve?”
She’d cut him for trespassing, even if she did think he deserved happiness. “I’m Chimera no longer. I’m a free agent on a simple run across the market.”
“What do you mean you’re not Chimera?” Her voice had gone sharp.
“Got into some trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?” Viv was such a mom .
He couldn’t help smiling down at her. Even in heels she didn’t reach his chin. “The not-my-fault kind, Viv. Something’s rotten inside the Agora, and it saw me looking.”
“The Sandman.”
Rook made a confused face. “Who the hell is this Sandman I keep hearing about?” Maybe it was a code name for Lambert, whose daughter Mirren could create that binding ribbon stuff out of sand. She probably learned it from her dad. Maybe that’s how he got the alias.
Viv’s mouth turned down. “I don’t know who or what the Sandman is, but I’ve heard rumors, which I would discount as hysteria if people weren’t also disappearing. Are you for hire, then?” She looked him up and down—he guessed trying to see through any personal augmentations he might have added to himself. He didn’t bother with that—illusion was too hard to hold Darkside when on the job. “I might be able to use you,” she said.
Vivienne was more dangerous than Chuck, but her operation was clean, however much she benefited from the lusts, grief, and desires of her clients. Her equipment was top-of-the-line. If anyone got hurt, it was because Viv personally hurt him or her. No negligence here, either, but she could make a body suffer if it crossed her.
“I’m on a job now, but yeah, if you have work, I’d be interested.” He had to find a way to support himself and Jordan—assuming he got free of Mirren—and Viv was the best option so far. She didn’t do kidnappings or chain revelers to desks.
Again that sense of Jordan nagged him. If he didn’t concentrate, he knew the naked Echo of her would reappear, touching him in the just the way Jordan did, and Viv would doubt his control.
“Then I’ll forgive your trespass,” Viv said. “This once , and only because it’s useful to me.”
“What are they saying about this Sandman?” It had to be Lambert, but he needed proof.
She waved her hand impatiently. “He supposedly bides in the Scrape, surrounded by nightmares,” she said. “The nightmares, at least, I can vouch for. The black market is infested with them, but they look so real it’s hard to tell which are revelers and which are something else—and then someone goes missing. It’s bad for business. Do you have experience with them?”
“Yeah, unfortunately, I do.” And it made sense that the creatures had infiltrated the black market first, and only lately the Agora. He needed to hear more—this was important—but the Echo of Jordan was getting to him. He finally confessed to the distraction. “How about you cut the Echo so I don’t stand here half cocked for my girl?”
Viv raised a brow. “The Echo isn’t running.”
“I can feel her, Viv.” Feel her close.
She looked at him patiently.
In one hard thump of his heart, he understood. Jordan was Darkside.
And in the black market?
Chuck was a lying sack of shit, and he was going to die. They had grabbed her, too. Which meant Mirren could mask a lie in the dreamwaters. Rook cursed himself for being slow—the Echo had confused him. She was here . If he’d sensed this tug anywhere else, he wouldn’t have discounted it.
Was she okay? Was she hurt? Had they messed with her head?
Viv was speaking, but Rook wasn’t listening. Was that bitch Mirren testing him? Go after Murs or go after Jordan? If he went after Jordan, would Mirren harm her in the waking
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