Page 2 of The Danger Kiss

There are many things we need not know. That is the reason we shall never be like the rest of them.

Remember that.

Never be afraid. One moment of it, and you may be dead the next.

The words echoed in her mind, as if her father had just spoken them only a moment ago. She could still see the fierce pride in his eyes as he looked at his daughter standing at the threshold of the Diesel Dome.

She could still remember the hesitation in her mother's muttered words.

Are you sure? I know Rukko went through the same thing three years ago, but she's...a she. Surely I could train her better myself. The people here are so uncouth, Rubba. I don't want her growing up like an urchin.

I will be fine, Mother. I have been wanting to practice using my flowers on real opponents, since I started making them more than a year ago. Besides, you told me not to use them on the servants.

Her parents left then. They took her plastic card that contained almost a solid billion credits. Money she had been saving from tips from clients and from selling her flowers in the black market through online auctions. Corporations were willing to pay a lot of credits to take down their competition using the most subtle of means, and she was happy to oblige.

Blanca was extraordinarily diligent, for someone her age.

But, now, it was her time for The Test.

Her older brother had gone through the very same thing a few years ago. It was quite simple: you were left in the Diesel Dome, penniless and with only the clothes on your back and your choice of weapons, and then you have to fight your way to some money. You were recalled home upon reaching the 100th floor, or when Father felt like doing so.

Blanca knew she would be fine. As long as she had her flowers, she would be invincible. No one in the world could grow and nurture them the way she could.

In her heart of hearts, she knew she was ready.

It is good, she thought, to be twelve years old and unafraid of anything.

***

Cover. She needed cover.

She needed to get her bearings, to work out a plan that would facilitate eluding those who were in hot pursuit of her.

Cover.

But she was alone.

Zola girl. Do you know how much money you are worth? Even just a teeny little photo of you is worth a billion credits. How much more if we could sell you.

How much more.

She shouldn't have left the Dome. She shouldn't have gone wandering the streets just because she wanted to eat some ice cream.

She should have gone straight back to her room after eating, before darkness fell on the city.

There were...twenty-one of them. She'd counted.

She'd taken count by using her senses, by imprinting their harsh voices and the cadence of their running steps into her memory.

Twenty-one.

There was something else about them. Not all of them, just some of them. These people could do...things. One of them had even wounded her just by waving his hand in the air, sending her careening against a brick fence, after catching her walking alone in the city streets.

They had been running after her ever since.

Somewhere in the distance she could still hear their voices, the rasp of their collective breaths.

We have been watching you since Daddy brought you to the Dome, little Zola girl. Do you think we will let our long wait go to waste by letting a pretty little kitty like you go just like that?

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