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GAMBLE WITH FATE.COM

If Things Were Different

“You know, this is very convenient,” Gale said as he took up the sheet of paper just falling into the printer tray. He scanned the layout of the villa and next grabbed up the paper telling him the rotating schedule of the guards patrolling and codes he would need for the outer gates and doors. “For a minute there, I thought you’d just be a waste of time.”

“Thanks so much, boss-man,” Calen sneered, eyes never leaving the computer screen. “Lucky for me you know almost shit about computers.”

“I would’ve found out eventually,” Gale huffed, taking the new information over to the sofa so he could memorize everything he needed to get around and inside Knightly’s villa.

Calen breathed a small laugh while he typed. It was well past three in the morning but he was wired. For the last three days he had heard nothing from his new “employer.” That morning, he received a call as he was finishing some programming for his father. Gale’s growling voice came over the line, asking if he would be free for lunch to do an interview for the next issue of The Pearl. Calen went along with it, sitting through the boring lunch. Apparently the city held an aggressive curiosity for him. Who was the son of the most notorious man in Aquaria? At the end of the session, Gale informed him he would need his assistance that night.

He had made it back to his house, not surprised but still annoyed that his father caught him before he could retire to his office. Ortonse was meeting with clients and backers and wanted his son to accompany him to the late lunch and meeting. He tried to explain he had just come back from eating, wisely keeping it to himself that he would rather swallow his own tongue than sit through a business event with him, but he was ignored. He would learn soon enough to never eat on his own and order small entrees by the next week or so. From now on, his life would go from one get-together after another.

As he downloaded more of Mika’s security files, Calen felt more determined to help him than anything else. They all didn’t even try to sugar-coat it around him anymore. During the meeting, Ortonse met with a man whom was taking his bribes and plans for some sort of assassination were being arranged. What his father did, for all of his endeavors, was illegal. The nameless politician left smiling, ten thousand dollars richer, with his smiling mistress clinging to his arm. Kit attempted to fill him in on what was going on, but Calen hardly paid attention. He was sick to be in the same room with the men.

Ortonse obviously wanted him to become his partner and head of Mecca once he retired. Calen had other plans. Drawing in a deep breath, Calen shut down his connection. He left a small trace, knowing that after whatever Gale did Mika’s people would be combing over anything that could help them find her killer. Calen of course didn’t really hack the system, he was the designer, but he didn’t want any sort of link to himself. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and the back of his neck tingled. This was it. He was all in now. Calen rose to join Gale on the sofa, giving him a thankful smile along with the rest of the documents when he saw an extra beer on the low coffee table.

“You should head back soon,” Gale said without lifting his eyes from their reading. “Wouldn’t want them to get suspicious so soon.”

Calen shook his head, sighing as the cold alcohol ran down his throat. “They’re not. If anyone did see me leave they’d think nothing of it. Ortonse already thinks I visit some boy-whore.”

“He knows you come to Fallen?” He wasn’t afraid, but this could make things go slower.

“No. He hasn’t even seen me go out. But I never really go out with them when they do and turn down his idiot women when he throws them at me. I guess he just assumes I get my kicks elsewhere.” Calen took another sip, leaning back and letting his tired eyes have a rest. He had been staring at a computer screen throughout the day.

“Kicks with boy-whores?” It wasn’t said with anything more than curiosity.

Calen laughed, turning his attention to the older man. “You’d think he’d be able to tell by now that I don’t have to pay for boys, right?” He couldn’t help but add a wink to let Gale know he was kidding.

“Is that how you always let it slip that you’re gay?” Gale smiled despite himself.

Calen laughed, feeling the day’s fatigue and bottle of beer loosen his tongue. “Not really. The opportunity just popped up.” Suddenly his face became serious. “Do you think Ortonse will grow suspicious of me?”

Gale shrugged, thankful for the kid’s scattered train of thought. “Maybe. Probably. After tomorrow it will be clear to those involved that he’s next.”

“Can I ask why Mika?” Calen turned toward him. “She’s a psychotic bitch, but she wasn’t as involved with the Worthington events as Tatou.”

Gale smiled, his hair falling into his face as he set his work down. “She’s public relations, Calen. Eleven years ago she was ambassador to Old America.”

Calen kept his breath from catching as the man’s intense eyes rose to bore into him.

“Ortonse figured out her unorthodox tastes and her decadent nature and decided her powerful position could be used to his benefit. Knightly used all of her sway to keep Old America out of Aquarian affairs. She may be another of Ortonse’s puppets, but she has toys of her own and those are basically the entire senate and executive branch of Old America’s government.”

“So, getting rid of her will?”

“Cause chaos, leave her underlings in Old America running around blindly. There are some good people, although too pacifistic for my tastes, that are just waiting for a chance like this to overthrow her people. Without her, they have no idea how to continue.”

Gale wanted anarchy, a revolution, and he was the harbinger. Calen’s heart quickened as he spoke, causing his palms to sweat and mouth to dry. Damn it, he would have given anything to have met Gale O’Kirk under normal circumstances! He was talking certain death and he welcomed it. It dawned on the young man that he probably didn’t expect or want to live through his campaign of revenge.

Calen stood, breaking him out of his feverish musings. Gale started when one of his slender hands gripped his shoulder. His warmth spread through him and gave his soul a jolt.

“Just live through this.” With that, Calen left the dilapidated building for his posh prison of marble and silk.

* * * * *

It was well into the pre-dawn hours when Gale slunk inside the fortified walls of Mika Knightly’s villa. Perhaps it was arrogance on his part, but Gale smiled when he thought of Ortonse and his fellow bastards discovering that their queen had been taken out as the sun began to rise. He didn’t need to hide in the dark to get them.

A black-gloved hand slapped onto a hapless guard’s mouth, muffling the pained shriek as a dagger opened her throat. Blood sprayed the wall and the body was left in the hallway. It would be a few hours before anyone found it, or the corpse in the stairwell. As he watched the liquid rolled down the expensive wallpaper, Gale felt another strong pulse of determined blood lust through his veins.

He was going to enjoy every moment of this. Everyone in the house would get special attention from his blades. His skills were top in the abstract, now was his chance to use them. Though they all would protest their part, dying by his hands would really be putting his restlessness at ease. This was just what he needed to become centered again. Ever since the previous night, Gale had needed to take his mind and emotions off of his current problem. When he had retired to bed, gemstone eyes and pouty lips took over his dreams.

He’s so much like you, baby, almost like your doppelganger.

Although no freckles smattered Calen’s cheeks and he had more refined features. He imagined the young man’s lightly tanned skin would be just as silky as his gentle lover’s had been. Eyes such as his would probably darken with the more emotion they felt. Those lips would taste of sugar crystals. Gale quashed the thought, angry at himself for letting it settle into his mind.

Fucking Hell!

The guard stationed at the doorway to the second floor of Mika’s manor didn’t have time to even draw his weapon. The man looked shocked, terrified as the insane looking man all in black burst through the door. A long sword with a simple black hilt was clutched in his leather grasp. A small hiss escaped Gale as he brought his blade up with a strong swoop, gutting the man from his stomach up. Blood splashed hot against his face, dripping over his mouth and he quickly wiped his sleeve over his tainted skin. He almost slipped on the pile of steaming entrails as he knowingly stalked down the hallway.

The third door down the second hall on the left, that’s where Calen said her bedroom was. Gale had been curious to know how he knew, but he was tight-lipped after he gave him the necessary information. All he divulged was that he had had the displeasure of being shown to her room when she had thrown a party in honor of his arrival. Mika loved younger men, and more than that, she loved men that held beauty. She had wanted him in her bed that night, but Calen had refused and left before his subtle rejections turned into rude rebuffs.

Anger bubbled up inside Gale. How dare she even think to try and put her filthy hands on something like him. It was just another strike against her. Noise from behind the door to his right caused him to stop in his tracks and wait, raising his sword above his head. The woman was much more adept at her job than those that had crossed his path earlier. She gave a small cry as she jumped back from his weapon, a cut splitting her cheek. Gale’s eyes narrowed as she went for her gun with one hand while the other went for her walkie talkie. He couldn’t afford to let her get off a shot.

Nothing but a rasping gurgle rose in the room as he slammed his sword into her neck. Blood covered his chest as the guard’s wound sprayed up in a violent geyser. He grimaced, placing his foot on the now quaking body to free his blade. The thick coating of red came off easily as he wiped it on her shirt before setting out once again.

The colors swimming around in his vision didn’t calm him like the first time. All of the blacks and reds, choking crimsons and splashes of vermillion that ran down the walls to accompany the last wheezes of the dying made everything about the moment surreal. This had been on his mind for the last eight years. Killing, laying waste, and leaving everything connected to Ortonse Fisher in ruin was what had kept him going all of this time.

However, slicing through the last guard on duty did not give him the satisfaction he had dreamed of. Guilt tore at him, making his swings extra vicious. A man, beautiful and naïvely idealistic, was taking his mind off of what he had meticulously planned for so long. He didn’t want to analyze the way he had been acting recently. There was no good explanation for why he had let Calen in on his plot. It took a lot of trust that he should not have had to just tell him what he was doing, and so soon after they had officially met.

The kid is Fisher’s son, for fuck’s sake!

Calen, the little blonde wonder, should have been dead a dozen times over by now, but Gale couldn’t do it. He brought it all down to the fact that Calen felt nothing for his father and didn’t care if they all died. They shared that at least. Gale buried his current feelings as he settled his grip on the master bedroom’s door knob. There were more pressing matters at hand.

The room was empty. Walking farther inside, he found himself in a small receiving room full of cushions, a sofa, chair, and mini bar. The smell of roses and vanilla wafted around him in a pleasing, delicate haze. Flickering warmth caught his attention and he padded silently through another set of partially closed doors.

A boy, not older than eighteen, didn’t so much as roll over on the ridiculously large bed as he stalked by. The smell of sex hung thick in the air and the kid’s surgeon-perfected features were dusted a light rose. Sweat could be seen on his gangly limbs and back in the fire light from the side of the room. On his stomach he pressed farther into the mattress, burrowing his face into the pillows with a sleepy groan. When he moved, Gale saw the red marks of removed restraints on his fragile wrists and ankles.

Gale was on his way to open a door leading off to the back of the room when the sound of humming drifted to him. He changed his course, leaning against a heavy oak door as the feminine voice gained volume. She turned immediately when he opened the door, looking him over as he kept his eyes on her and closed the door softly behind him. It was an office, warm and professional with comfortable seats and shelves stuffed with books.

Mika Knightly smiled as she looked at the handsome man, the smell of blood filling the room. “I knew you’d be coming, though I didn’t think you’d try something so soon.”

Gale said nothing yet, killing more distance between them. She didn’t move, except to drop her robe to the window seat, leaving the woman in silk pajama pants and a simple tank top. He didn’t expect her to be afraid, nor was he surprised at the way she spoke to him. Mika was an odd creature, clever and dangerous. Many were disarmed by her youthful charm and looks, but she was a few years older than he and frightening once one looked past her public appearance. She shrugged her dainty shoulders at his silence.

“You use knives,” she said, nodding and smiling with enthusiasm. “That’s really neat. I wouldn’t have thought of that. Don’t get me wrong, blood play calls for blades and such, but to do what you’re set out to do, to do what you did to Andre with just knives…remarkable.”

Gale finally smiled, “Will you think so when I lay you open?”

“An honorable attempt, but it will be in vain.” Mika laughed softly shaking her head, the black waves of hair bouncing around her face. “Andre was useless really; I’ve been trying to tell Ortonse for years now. You took care of him wonderfully. A work of art!”

Gale became more defensive as she spoke, her eyes shining and smile growing.

“And the token! God, how did we miss such a clever man? You obviously want revenge for what happened at Worthington, and I just knew you’d be looking for me after Andre was dead. It is a shame you aren’t working for me.” Mika suddenly grew serious, her voice chilly and low. “I’m not like Andre, sir. I think this will prove to be quite a strain on you.”

Gale stood completely passive but ready to attack. To make it through this without taking too long and alerting anyone, he would have to be quick. If an opportunity came, no matter the size, he needed to lash out. Mika was a deadly foe. Her blue eyes flickered to her desk, his followed and narrowed. Atop the piles of documents was a small chrome pistol. She giggled lightly, shaking her head again.

“I don’t need a gun, sir.”

She struck out at him. He only had a second to react, bowing back slightly to dodge. Though he was shocked, he didn’t let it show. A small scratch opened his cheek. In her hand she held a dainty knife. Where it came from he could only guess, but he didn’t waste his time on the insignificant detail. Mika lashed out again, completely silent in her attack. This time he caught her foot, the kick to his face would have been devastating, and used his grip to fling her across the room.

Her office was immaculate, but not very big. There wasn’t a lot of air for her flight to gain. His relief at getting in a good hit disappeared as Mika flowed with her forced momentum, losing her blade but easily catching hold of the chair coming toward her and flipping to land on her feet. Taking his sword from beneath his coat, he charged her as soon as he saw she wasn’t going to be fazed by his previous attack.

Using her tinier size, Mika eluded the sharp blade. Her face betrayed not even a twitch of emotion as the tip caught her shoulder. She swiftly moved up to his side, gripping his wrist hard and pulling his arm back. Gale groaned, feeling the muscles in his arm nearly tear and lashed out with his other fist instantly. It met with her cheek and she let go her hold. However, he did drop his sword and she did not miss her chance in kicking the weapon across the floor.

“Absolutely incredible,” Mika whispered, her tone amorous as she brushed her knuckles against her fair cheek already containing the blush of a bruise.

Gale felt bile rise in his throat as he noticed the way she was now looking at him. At first he was more a curiosity to her, a worthy opponent. Now she gazed hungrily at him. He felt scorched as she looked at him, vision boring through his clothes, past his flesh, to his very soul. She liked what she was seeing. Anger replaced his revulsion and he charged. His fist met her stomach and she groaned, but he also suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder.

That bitch.

Mika panted against his arm, winded from the force he had put behind his punch, but was smiling. Gale winced and looked over, seeing her hand still closed around the silver pick-like weapon she had shoved into the thick muscle of his right shoulder. The rest of her hair slipped around her face, falling after she had grabbed the weapon from its place within the inky strands. She had let him hit her. To get close to him. She could have killed him.

Gale cried out, pain and frustration heavy in his voice, as she kneed him in the groin and punched him in the face. Giving the pick a good turn before tugging it out, Mika sighed at the discomfort he showed before pushing him down. He hit the floor hard, knocking his head against the expensive rug. His vision jarred and a small pulse of panic shot through him. He felt drugged. Mika put the hair pick down softly on her desk and Gale had a hunch she kept some sort of sedative on the tip. There was no way a meager puncture wound and hit to his nuts could affect him that much. He needed to act fast.

Mika regarded him for a moment, clearly thinking her options over. This man was lovely to look upon. Though he was well over the age she liked her bedmates to be, he had potential. And the stamina he would guarantee to contain! She frowned, this one would have to be restrained, probably for the rest of his lifetime.

“I’m keeping you,” she finally said, gazing down at him like he was her new hamster. He sat up and she put her manicured foot heavily on his chest, kicking him back down. She smiled at the foggy look coming over his eyes. “Ortonse would probably want to kill you, but since you will never be outside of my “playroom” from this day on, I don’t see why I need to tell him anything.”

Mika knelt beside him, letting his crimson hair fall through her fingers. Yes, he was a very pleasant specimen. She could beef him up and get him a tanner complexion later. She watched, transfixed as he shook his head and licked his dry lips. He was still trying to win. The drug she had stabbed into him was mild, but it would get him nice and docile. To see him overcoming it was a turn-on. What else could he withstand?

“Mika,” a sleepy voice whined from outside the door. Footsteps approached and soon the handle was moving. Gale’s eyes widened. “You’re meetings don’t start until noon. Come back to bed, I’m lonely.”

The door opened, Mika looked away from him, and that was all the time he needed. Gale moved quickly and as the teenage boy yelped, Mika looked down wide-eyed at him as he sank one of his daggers from his belt into the soft area between her neck and collar bone.

“NO!”

Gale cringed as Mika convulsed, spitting up blood onto his face. Spurts of the hot liquid soaked his shirt. She fell back twitching. Movement made the groggy man look up and he found the boy dashing for the gun on the desk. He turned, tears streaming down his cheeks, ready to take his shaky aim, and Gale only reacted as he knew how. The dagger he threw went straight into the kid’s heart. He slumped to the floor, blood pooling around him. He died quickly.

He wanted to sleep so badly, but Gale pushed himself on. His meticulous planning earned him a non-eventful escape. His body and spirit ached. The nameless boy gnawed at his psyche all the way to his haven in Fallen Greenwich. He could understand killing for a loved one. The kid just chose to love the wrong person.

Delirium assaulted him by the time he fell onto his bed in the drafty apartment. Though he wouldn’t recall it, he whimpered in his sleep, crying and calling out to first his dead lover and later the blue-eyed wonder that had betrayed everything in his life to help him.

Gale called in sick the next day.

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