Page 52 of Gunslinger Girl
“No,” Pity said. “Of course not. Thank you for the wine.”
“Patrick Sheridan.” He offered a hand. “I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed your performance.”
“Okay, Sheridan.” The bald man shifted impatiently. “You’ve spoken to her. Selene is waiting.”
“Disregard my new friend Mr. Daneko’s rudeness,” Sheridan said. “He wouldn’t have followed me if he wasn’t impressed, too.”
Daneko frowned. “I was only interested in getting a better look at the girl who shot at three of my people.”
Pity sat up straighter, trying not to squirm as the leader of the Old Reds glared at her. She waited for him to say or do something more. He can’t, she realized. Not so long as I’m under Selene’s protection. Emboldened by the champagne, she gave him a perky smile. “It was only one, truth be told.”
“And from what I’ve heard of your people, Daneko, they undoubtedly gave her good reason.” Sheridan scanned the table, taking in each of its occupants before returning to Pity. “I confess to being curious: what tempts a talented, CONA-raised young woman to a place like Cessation?”
Max tensed beside her. “She might ask you the same question.”
“Oh, but I inquired first.”
“That doesn’t mean she needs to answer.”
Pity glanced at Max. His tone wasn’t discourteous exactly, but there was a hint of defensiveness, like the flash of a hidden blade.
Sheridan stared at him for a moment with an air of faint amusement. “I think your friend is suggesting I mind my own business.”
“It’s all right,” said Pity. “I’m—”
“No, he’s right. I shouldn’t pry.”
“Sheridan!” Daneko barked.
Sheridan bowed his head politely. “Don’t let me distract you from your celebration. Enjoy your evening.”
Before Pity could thank him again, the men were gone, consumed by the reveling crowd.
“What was that about?” she said to Max.
“Aw,” interjected Duchess, “just because Maxxy’s bread is buttered by CONA plutocrats, it doesn’t mean he has to like them.”
“Is that who he was?”
“Oh, yeah,” Luster agreed. “Never seen him here before, but we know the type. Well-dressed, well-groomed, and throwing currency around like it was nothing.”
“There’re better places they could be spending their money back east.” Max scowled. “People who need better food, vaccines—”
“People who aren’t here.” Duchess snatched the bottle and began to pour himself a glass. “And this very fine, very old, and very expensive wine is already open.”
Garland stole the glass away and set it in front of Pity. “It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
She took a sip. The wine was smooth and spread through her mouth like jam. She nudged Max. “Are we celebrating or not?”
After a moment, his features softened. He accepted a glass.
“I don’t see why you’re getting worked up about some CONA tycoon.” Luster put a hand on Garland’s shoulder and raised herself above the edge of the booth. “When’s the last time we saw Daneko around here? Look—he, Selene, and Pity’s new friend Sheridan are comfy as kittens, surrounded by a bathtub’s worth of whiskey and champagne.” She lowered herself back down. “Rumor is that they’re making peace. Real peace, I mean. Guess it’s true.”
“Let’s hope so,” said Max.
“Why?” Garland teased. “We’ve got Pity here to keep us safe from the Old Reds.”
She laughed and took another swallow of the wine. “At this point, I don’t think any of y’all should count on me to shoot straight.”
