Page 100 of Gunslinger Girl
“What about Sheridan?” he said, breathless.
“What about him?” Pity said. “I keep up the act. I have to or else Selene will put me in the ring with Daneko. You said it yourself: I can’t cross Selene.”
“I know, but…” He trailed off.
“You’re still jealous!” She laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“No, none of this is, but it’s been eating me up, and I don’t know what else to do. Max, I want to stay in Casimir without being ordered to murder someone whenever Selene feels slighted. Is that so much to ask?”
She tried to kiss him again, but he held her back. “It’s only… I don’t like you anywhere near him.”
“I know. But if Selene can get him the presidency, he can keep Cessation safe. Isn’t that worth it?” She smiled. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I promise that whatever I have to do to help Selene keep him here, it won’t look anything like this.”
She pressed her lips against his, then hooked a hand around his neck and fell back, pulling all of his delicious weight down on top of her.
CHAPTER 33
The target exploded, sending a spray of violet powder into the air. As the wind took it, carrying it over the edge of Eden, the onlookers clapped. Pity took aim and sent three more to the same fate. More applause. By the time she obliterated the remaining setup, the far end of the makeshift range was a rainbow haze, drifting slowly to the city below.
“Marvelous!” A patron clapped Sheridan on the back. “You’d best stay on this one’s good side, Patrick.”
“I’m doing my best.” He shot her an enamored, effortlessly convincing smile.
It was supposed to be a party, though by Casimir’s standards Pity wouldn’t name it that. Barely a dozen people stood beneath the crisp, cloudless sky, lingering around tables set with refreshments or reclining on padded sofas. While numerous Tin Men did their best to blend in with the garden, Eden was otherwise closed off, the usual selection of Casimir’s workers excluded.
If it was a party, Pity figured, it was an intensely private one. But hope stirred. Whatever promises and pacts Selene was making on behalf of Sheridan, they seemed to be bearing fruit. There was an elite air to these particular guests, a flavor of confidence only exuded by those comfortable in their power.
“Yes, her talent is peerless!” Halcyon flitted about like a gigantic hummingbird, extolling the virtues of the Theatre to anyone who would listen. “Serendipity never fails to astound.”
“That’s nothing.” Pity set to reloading her spent weapons. “The targets aren’t even moving.”
“She’s right.” Nearby, Selene lounged beneath a trellis of bougainvillea, sunshine dappling her charcoal sundress so that she resembled some kind of wildcat. Adora sat beside her, doing nothing to hide her boredom, while Beau stood watch over them both. “Halcyon, why don’t you and Pity show everyone something a little more exciting.”
Halcyon’s face brightened. “I have just the thing. A moment’s preparation, please.” He beckoned a Tin Man and whispered to him. The man ran off.
Meanwhile, Sheridan resumed conversing with a pair of the special guests. Earlier, he’d quietly offered Pity some of their names, but she’d promptly forgotten them. It was hard to focus on details like that. Or anything. Sheridan was still her charge, but it was Max who dominated her thoughts—his smile, the glint of his rings, the feeling of his body against hers. It was like a fog had settled upon her, a warm, early morning haze that left her feeling like there was nothing else in the world.
Her cheeks warmed, followed by the rest of her. For days she and Max had spent every free hour together. Hours that passed like minutes, while the ones when they were parted stretched into eternities. Impatience gnawed at her. Even now, he might be in her room, waiting for Sheridan to discharge her from the tedious service. No one, save for Halcyon, had said more than a handful of words to her all afternoon; it was clear that she was regarded as little more than the entertainment.
“Aha!” The Tin Man returned with whatever Halcyon had requested. “My dear, if you would take up your position once more?”
Pity obeyed as he headed downrange, wondering what trick he had up his sleeve.
“I’m sure you’ve all enjoyed Serendipity’s exhibition so far,” Halcyon announced, turning so that he faced her. “But what is any act by the Theatre Vespertine without a touch of danger?”
With a dramatic flourish, he raised a pack of cards, fanned it out, and picked one.
Nervous understanding stirred in Pity’s stomach as he held it up between his index and middle finger: the ace of spades.
Too risky. She shook her head slightly, but Halcyon remained as he was, the card held less than a foot from his head. She turned to Selene.
“That won’t do.” Selene stood and swept over to Halcyon. “Let’s show the people something they’ve never seen. Right, Pity?” She snatched the card. “It will be just like your first show.”
The stirring turned to cold fear. Around them, the guests’ attention piqued, accented by whispers of disbelief as Selene raised the card in the same manner as Halcyon.
“Selene, no.” Sheridan laughed. “I don’t think anyone needs more proof of Pity’s talents.”
