Extraits

CHAPTER ONE

Keeping a job involves a few simple rules: Arrive on time. Work hard. And don’t assault customers.

I forced a polite smile as the woman at table six snapped her thick fingers even though I was already hurrying toward her, a tray of drinks weighing down my arm. She jabbed fuchsia claws at her meal.

“My pasta has no meat,” she declared in the tones of an offended Victorian governess.

I looked at her plate. The pasta did in fact display a shocking lack of poultry, considering it had arrived at her table with an entire grilled chicken breast. I knew, because I’d seen the busboy carrying it. Streaks of creamy sauce smeared the plate’s edge.

I looked at her tablemate’s meal. Oh hey, more Alfredo. And wow, that was a mighty big pile of grilled chicken sitting on top, which the other woman was eating at maximum speed as though she could make it disappear before my poor waitress brain calculated the disparate mass.

“This is unacceptable.” The woman waved a hand to draw my attention away from the suspicious heap of meat. “I hope you don’t expect me to pay for a meal that’s missing the main ingredient!”

Shifting the heavy weight of my tray, I gazed at her wordlessly, then turned the same stare on her co-conspirator. Did they really think I’d never seen this scam before? When they started to squirm, I refocused on the chickenless woman and smiled brightly.

“What was the problem again, ma’am?”

“My—my meal has no chicken!”

I tsked playfully, like we were all in on the joke, and winked at the other woman. “Your friend must have a lightning-fast fork, then! You didn’t even see her swiping the chicken off your plate.”

Forcing a laugh, I stepped back, the three cokes, two beers, and iced tea wobbling on my tray. Six thirsty customers only a table away watched me with begging eyes, and I could practically see my tip shrinking the longer they waited.

The chickenless woman gawked at me, rusty gears turning behind her close-set eyes. I’d called out her stupid lie and given her an easy escape. All she had to do was shut up and steal some protein back before her friend ate it all. No free meals for her today.

But instead, she swelled like a bullfrog and pointed a pink claw at my chest.

“What are you implying?” Her voice rose, cutting through the cheerful babble of the busy café. “I told you my meal arrived without any chicken. Are you calling me a liar?”

Why yes, I was. “I must have misunderstood,” I said soothingly, lowering my voice as though that would cancel out her increased volume. “I assumed you were joking because your chicken was obviously dumped onto your friend’s plate.”

“How dare you!”

Kai spun through the larger group, his movements swift and decisive. A telekinetic sent a knife flying at him, but the electramage darted aside with eerie, silent grace. He closed in on the telekinetic—and executed a flying double kick straight out of a martial arts movie. Landing neatly, he cast his hand wide. Lightning burst off him, seeking his metal knives. It tore through the psychics again, half of them falling to the ground in convulsions.

A system built entirely on the guild structure, hidden in plain sight—part of human society while also separate.

I wanted a job where no one could fire me. I wanted a paycheck that couldn’t be docked. I wanted to buy my own place where no one could kick me out. I wanted to work hard and earn a living and support myself, and I didn’t want anyone to have the power to take that away from me.

In other words, stability. Seriously, was that so much to ask for?

“What about the umbrella?”

“Forget it.”

“It’s not a margarita without an umbrella.”

A dozen more unfriendly patrons were waiting to order drinks. I started to turn.

“I don’t want it if it doesn’t have an umbrella,” Aaron declared. “Get me—”

My vision went red. Whipping back to him, I grabbed the margarita I’d spent five precious minutes preparing and yelled, “If you won’t drink it, then you can wear it!”

And I flung the drink in his face.

The front door flew open and I jumped.

Two guys walked in. I relaxed—they had beards, but not “biker gang” beards. One guy was average—dark hair, a touch of silver in his beard, mid-thirties—and the other was stocky and buff, with the sides of his head shaved and his blond hair combed straight back. Late twenties?