Three by Jay Posey Page A

rumble of a dog that doesn’t want to bare its teeth, but wants you to know it’ll go there if you push it. The room seemed a lot smaller all of a sudden.
    “How many?”
    “Six,” she answered with a weary sigh, knowing there was no use in resisting. Then corrected herself. “Well, I guess it’s just five now.”
    “What were you workin’?”
    It was becoming an interrogation. And Three’s penetrating eyes made her fear how much she’d give away, no matter how little she actually said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Fedor, Kostya, you, the kid.” Three held up a finger for each name as he said them. “Two genies, a chemic, and your boy. I’ve never seen anything like him before, but he’s some kind of something, for sure. That ain’t people from your past, that’s a crew. So what were you workin’?”
    “Security,” she said. Then for some reason, she continued. “At first, anyway. I was just a kid when we started, I didn’t know what it was going to turn into–”
    Three cut her off.
    “Look, I don’t care about who you are, where you’re from, or whose pocket you picked in your youth. All I want to know is what I’m up against. Get me?”
    Cass nodded, hoping he didn’t see how much his words had stung her.
    “What kind of security? Sec/Net?”
    If he hadn’t offered it, she would never have thought he’d buy that, but since he’d said it first, she just nodded.
    “Awful lot of muscle just for tapping Sec/Net.”
    “You wouldn’t think that if you’d met our clients.”
    Three grunted. Then sat in tense silence. He stared into her eyes so intensely it almost hurt, but Cass didn’t dare look away. It was almost unbearable. At any second, she was certain she would tell him everything, and he would do what anyone with even a hint of brain would. Run.
    Instead, he was the first to break the silence.
    “You’ve been masking?”
    She nodded.
    “And you taught the boy how to?”
    Cass shook her head, and for the first time saw Three surprised, almost lose control. He raised his voice in frustration.
    “So what’s the point of hiding you, if they can track your kid–”
    She interrupted.
    “ He taught me .”
    Again, they returned to silence. Three looked away, down at the floor, processing. Cass just sat there, afraid to move for fear of attracting his attention again. Finally, he spoke, though now he didn’t look at her.
    “When you’re ready, we’ll push on north. I know a spot, pretty off-grid,” he said, standing to his feet. “If we make it, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”
    Three started to leave, but Cass reached up and touched his hand, stopping him. Still he didn’t look to her.
    “How long was I… have we been here?”
    “Six days,” he answered.
    He lingered for a moment, but when she said nothing else, he walked off, around to where Wren had gone. Moments later, Wren bounded back and curled up beside her, a wolf cub nestling against his mother. Cass hugged him tightly, letting his warmth and touch soothe her. She felt tired, but healthily so, as if she’d fought a long battle, and deserved respite. She lay back, and Wren repositioned, snuggled on her shoulder, and together they slept a deep, restful, dreamless sleep.
    T hree sat on an overturned plasticrate in the supply room, rocked back on one edge with his feet up on a low shelf. Methodically, meticulously, he ran a gritstone along an edge of an eight-inch piece of scrap metal he’d found on some dusty shelf. Shaping it. Sharpening it. His hands moved with practiced precision.
    Three small piles lay neatly arranged on the floor: supplies collected and carefully assessed for their weight, durability, and usefulness. He’d taken only what they’d need. Inwardly, he chuckled humorlessly. This wasn’t his way. Hopelessly entangled with the weak and wounded. He’d already done what he could for the woman. Another day or two, and she’d be strong enough to walk. And he’d done what he’d said