Vicki PetterssonSigns of the Zodiac Collection #2 by Vicki Pettersson

Author:Vicki Pettersson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

17

“I’m going to take a few of these for you,” Tripp said, gathering together drawings, careful not to look at me. Buttersnap nudged my elbow, and I knew they both scented my pain. I wiped at my eyes and face, also content to ignore the obvious. “If we ever get a real weapons master, they can fashion more conduits for you …maybe even some for the rest of the rogues.”

A rogue weapons master forging tools for rogue agents. There was a thought large enough to eclipse any other. But Tripp wasn’t finished.

“Look what else I found.” He opened a satchel I immediately recognized…one I’d stashed in the bottom drawer of the tool chest the last time I’d been there. Reaching inside, he withdrew a handful of poker chips embossed with illustrations of my former powers.

The currency of Midheaven. Tripp and I had once battled each other over a green felt poker table over chips like this. I swallowed hard, having forgotten about them, then reached forward to touch one. The powers represented on these chips were abilities like regeneration and speed, each of the five amplified senses as well…things everybody in the Zodiac world possessed. Yet others represented individual gifts.

“I had no idea you could slip into the sanctuaries of both Shadow and Light,” he said, fingering through the chips curiously. “Or that you could leave the valley even before you were thrown from the troop.”

Neither had I.

“Oh, lookie here. You got Shen’s sense of smell. And the albino’s aether.”

I glanced at the two new chips he held. “What?”

“Their powers. I heard you cleaned up at soul poker once I was off the table.” He tossed one of my chips, my speed, aside, muttering, “These are all useless.”

Yeah, this warehouse was just rife with my losses. I sighed…and my emotion clearly bloomed into scent. Tripp blew out a chiding breath and readjusted the big, black Stetson on his head. “Man, what a double standard. You won’t allow others to feel anything soft for you, but you wallow in your own pity. Know what your father would say?”

“He’d be happy to relieve me of the problem?”

He picked up the canister we’d come for, a modified fire extinguisher holding the fortifying preservative, and motioned for me to hold still. “He’d say just ’cause you got something doesn’t mean you got the right to it.”

“Swell guy.” I shut my eyes, and a soft mist enveloped me, falling over clothes, hair, and skin in an even invisible webbing. A conduit could now strike me once, and the effect would be the same as trying to chop through petrified wood. It wouldn’t even make a dent. Opening my eyes, I motioned at Tripp, and he handed it to me.

“But he’s right,” he said, inhaling so deeply his black vest moved against his great belly. I misted him, then handed back the canister.

“Easy for you to say when you’ve got all your strengths.” I swung away to leave, but Tripp was suddenly in front of me, aptly illustrating the speed I didn’t possess.

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