Broker
Chapter 13

Chapter 13

There on the dancefloor, Sonya didn’t have to think about things as hard. The flashing lights, the beat, the sounds, the movement. It was like everything was in stop motion. One moment she was in one place, one moment she was in another. One moment Mikayla was standing a meter away, the next Sonya could smell her hair. It was a sweet scent. Distracting. She felt the girl’s back against her chest, she felt a hand grab hers and pull it around a narrow waist. She couldn’t tell the difference between the sound of her heartbeat and the bass any more. It was all the same.

It’s okay to have a little fun now and then, Sonya, the words echoed in her head. Her words, her voice.

The next moment, she was leaning over a sink and staring at herself in the mirror. Her chest heaving. She had to come up for air. She coughed and wiped her face, glaring at herself. Her mechanical eyes glowed a ferocious hot pink. She reached up and pulled a few strands of hair from out in front of her face. “Chunhua,” Sonya murmured, looking down at her hands, trembling from the intensity that had just nearly overcame her. Sonya’s lip curled into a sardonic smile, “She doesn’t even know who I am. We haven’t even met…”

The door opened to the bathroom and Marta slipped inside. She was dressed more for the occasion rather than her maid cosplay, a look of concern flashed on her face. “You’re paler than usual, if that’s even possible,” She said, “Are you okay?”

Sonya looked at her for a moment and then back at the mirror, “Am I allowed to have this kind of fun? Is it okay?” She asked.

Marta glanced around, as if checking to see if there was anyone in the restroom besides themselves. She stepped forward after a breath, “For someone who keeps calling themselves a Supervillain, you sure have a lot of guilt,” She paused when she saw Sonya wince at the comment and smiled, “I know you’re trying to do something important, even if you can’t explain it yet, I’ve figured out that you have a bigger plan in mind. One that you can’t pull off without doing some terrible things.”

Sonya straightened and looked at Marta, shock on her face.

Marta raised an eyebrow, “What’s so surprising? I’ve taken care of you for how long?”

Sonya looked away and chuckled, “...yeah. You do a lot for me, thank you, Marta.”

Marta feigned a curtsey, “It is my pleasure, Miss Chernovna,” She turned away, “I need to keep an eye on your date, so I’ll be returning to the floor…” She paused and glanced back, “...but to answer your question, yes, have as much fun as you can.”

The door to the restroom shut and Sonya looked at herself in the mirror, I’m not the woman she fell in love with anymore. I’m a different person and I’ve committed to that. She let out a breath, Okay.

Her phone buzzed just as she firmed up her resolve and felt the weight fall off her shoulders,she glanced down at it and saw a text from Marta. Her gut twisted.

<Marta: Hurry!>

Sonya darted outside, pushing past the couple that had just thrown themselves against the restroom door in their amorousness and glaring at them when one tried to protest. They flinched away from her neon gaze, taking a step back. She turned her attention to the floor but didn’t see anything amiss on the dance floor. She pivoted to the bar and narrowed her eyes, Marta was standing there next to Mikayla. She had positioned herself between Mikayla and three men and a woman, all of whom were taking hostile poses. Her eyes fixed on Mikayla’s face, sullen, hurt, sad.

Sonya grit her teeth and clenched her fists, bloodlust boiling in her veins only to force herself to calm down, recognizing rage when she felt it. She needed to use it, not be used by it. You’re not a scout anymore, Chernovna, act like it. Sonya took a deep breath and walked straight forward, switching to technopathy and glancing towards the entrance of the club. A few people nearly got in her way only to catch the look in her eyes and shy back. Sonya arrived at the bar as the woman was speaking.

“You seriously think you have any right to work as a designer, four our label?” She laughed, “Do you think these guys would wear your garbage? Come on, Summers, you’re deluding yourself! The CEO would never okay it.” 

Mikayla shrank a bit more with every word, tears welling in her eyes as she cowered behind Marta. Marta glanced over and made eye contact with Sonya. Sonya noticed how the veins in her neck were throbbing, strained against every instinct to crush the skull of the bitch in front of her. Marta was a marvel of restraint and self control, “Thank you Marta, I’ve got it from here.” Sonya said gently, causing Mikayla to flinch and the woman to glance her way. 

“The hell are you?” The woman snarled as one of the men, models from the fashion line that Mikayla worked for based on context, raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Woah! That’s Sonya Chernovna,” The model said, pointing at her.

“Who?” The woman grunted, Sonya frowned, was this chick drunk?

“You know, that company that makes monster killer weapons for the police?” He said, “Don’t you watch the news?”

“Uh, no, I’m too busy making clothes for you to wear, idiot,” The woman snarled, rounding on him, “Who the fuck cares?”

“Excuse me,” Sonya said as gently as possible, restraining her growing fury, “May I ask what the problem is? Your attitude is going to make the booze taste bad at this rate.”

The woman rounded on her, “My attitude? This jumped-up bitch thinks she can just flash some pretty drawings and get into one of the most exclusive circles of designers in the country! Attitude!” She scoffed.

“My date?” Sonya asked, still trying to sound unaffected.

“Yeah, your date probably just suh-” The woman frowned, confused for a second, “Your date?”

Sonya stepped over to stand next to a tear streaked Mikayla, “Yes, my date, the girl I am taking out for drinks, on a date,” Sonya tilted her head, looking a little concerned, “Are you perhaps simple, miss? Or just drunk?”

The models flushed in surprise while the woman tried to piece through the staccato pattern of Sonya’s speech, when she finally caught up her eyes narrowed in fury. “You little…”

“You know usually when two people talk, they know one another's name, typically, do you, do you have a name?” Sonya asked, “If so, I’ve never heard of you. You said you were a designer for Lucci?”

“It’s Angela Sparrow,” The woman snarled, “You watch your mouth.”

“Angela Sparrow! Okay, I think I’m wearing one of your jackets, actually, funny that!” She said and checked the inseam of her jacket, “Yep, there it is, Angela Sparrow collection, wow,” Sonya said and held her tongue, she couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a good fit or a badly designed jacket, it was great quality to be frank, but actions spoke louder than words anyway. She slipped off her jacket and tossed it onto the ground. “Ah, that’s better.”

“You bitch!” Angela snarled just as a hand thrust out in front of her, she nearly slapped it away when she looked up to see who had moved to stop her.

“You’re antagonizing the guests, miss Sparrow, gonna have to ask you to leave for the night,” The bouncer said, looming over her and her three models with an unblinking look in his eyes. He turned his gaze towards Sonya, “You alright ladies? Miss VIP?”

Angela rounded on Sonya with a look of mixed rage and disgust on her face, Sonya ignored her and smiled magnanimously at the bouncer. “It was nothing, thank you for the timely intervention.”

He tapped his earpiece, “It’s why we have radio’s ma’am,” He said, not adding that he hadn’t recognized the voice of the person who had hopped onto the frequency and warned him of a potential fight at the bar. He turned to Angela and her group, “If you will please walk ahead of me, I need to escort you out. Owner’s orders. Otherwise I’ll have to get the police involved.”

Angela froze and stared at him, wide eyed, as if he was an insect that had the audacity to threaten her. She looked back at Sonya and then spat on the ground, “Fine, I’m leaving. Shitty club anyway.”

The woman stormed off, her trio in tow and the bouncer hot on their heels. Sonya let out a breath and reached up to run her fingers through her hair. Her eyes fixed on Angela’s back. Angela Sparrow of the Lucci company, She committed the name to her memory. I am going to-

A pair of arms wrapping around her from the side brought her out of her moment of lingering bloodthirst, she gasped and looked down, a head of silky pixie cut black hair buried into her shoulder. The arms squeezed her and she felt herself relax a little, she smiled, lowering her hand down onto Mikayla’s head, “It’s going to be okay,” Sonya said, stroking her hair. “I promise. I’m sorry you had to go through that…”

Mikayla just squeezed tighter, “Thank you.” She said in a small voice.

Don’t thank me yet, I’m not nearly done.

–

Bernetta Lucci had just woken for breakfast, the little aches that came with her seventy years of age bothering her more than usual this morning. The house staff were already hard at work getting things ready for the day and she was enjoying a cup of coffee on the landing looking out over Florence. It was such a magnificent morning. She took in a deep breath, her only regret that she wasn’t fit to walk the beach anymore. She’d be permanently wheelchair bound within a few years, according to the doctors, and soon she’d have to pass her company on to one of those greedy idiots who could barely articulate what the word ‘quality’ even meant. If only she knew Jonathan’s secret. He’d refused to tell her last time they met.

One of the house staff stepped up to her table, looking composed as always while holding a cellphone set to hold in her palms. Bernetta could sense the faintest amount of trepidation in the way the girls throat tensed. She narrowed her eyes, “What is it?”

“You have a call, madame,” The maid said, inclining her head politely, “I believe it is a woman, their name is Ishtar.”

Bernetta snorted, “Like the goddess? Oh please, why even bother bringing this to my attention?”

The maid swallowed, “The person said that if you refused, to mention Jonathan Adders.”

Bernetta spun, her eyes wide, nearly knocking over her coffee. “Give me the phone, now!” Her heart pounded in her ears, was this it? Was this her turn to taste from the fountain of youth? Ishtar, were they implying an actual goddess was behind all this? Impossible. No, not impossible, she’d watched how the world had changed, seen the strangeness appearing more and more frequently. It had been just over a month since that flash of light from Greece. It’s real.

The maid blanched and quickly held the phone out, Bernetta snatched it up and took a deep breath, composing herself.

“Hello?”

“Bernetta Lucci,” A voice came from the other end, it was raspy and cold, like a blood-slicked blade scraping across ice. There was a feminine quality there, but it was overshadowed by the otherwise bloodcurdling nature of the tone. “I am Ishtar. I’m calling because I would like to do business with you.”

Bernetta’s eyes went wide and a smile spread across her lips, “I’m listening.”

“Before we do, though, there’s a matter with an employee of yours that needs to be addressed,” Ishtar said, her voice menacing.

Bernetta swallowed, “W-what can I do for you?”

–

Sonya’s phone flashed with an icon stating that the voice modulator was functioning normally as she stared out the window of her living room, the moon high in the sky. “I’m glad we could come to an arrangement, Madam Lucci,” Sonya said softly, “We’ll go over the finer details when we meet in person. I’ve never been to florence, you should show me around when you have time.”

“Of course, Madam Ishtar,” Lucci’s voice came over the phone, “I was a bit worried at first, but you are a shrewd businesswoman. I’m looking forward to seeing how our cooperation develops.”

Sonya smiled, “As am I, Madam Lucci, thank you for your time. I will see you next week.”

“Next week,” Madam Lucci agreed, and the call disconnected.

Sonya looked down at the phone, swiping against the voice modulator and glanced over her shoulder. Marta was standing in the shadows. She didn’t even blink at the intense brightness of Sonya’s eyes. She hadn’t changed them from that eerie hot pink. She smiled, “You are ruthlessly kind, Ma’am.”

Sonya walked past her and took a low breath, stopping at the door to her bedroom. She peered inside at the dark haired form sleeping in her bed.

“Maybe,” Sonya said, “Or maybe I’m just greedy.”