Page 19 of Reclaimed

A little.

Looks like it came down at 2:47 this morning. Charged with two counts of sedition, two counts embezzlement, and one count treason. Resisted forfeiture. Executed by Stewart and Dillons at 6:16 a.m.

Me

Send me a copy?

Slade

Already done.

Reaching for my glass, I take a long pull of whiskey and swap back to her profile.

She grew up in the Fringe. Both parents are out of the picture. Father's deceased– killed by an Enforcer after not paying back a relief loan. Mother– status unknown, rights terminated at birth.

I wonder if that makes it easier. Just never knowing them, not being able to feel the resentment. See the way it grows stronger with every bump of Coke…

I force the thought back into its unmarked grave before it gets a chance to breathe.

Jersey’s initial appraisal rating was high. No recorded incidents until after becoming an Asset, the most recent one added today. There's some academic transcripts, immunizations proving the bitch doesn't have rabies, and the last page is a Disposition of Remains order.

"If expiration is reached while not under Guardianship, viable organs to be transferred to Medical Management and all remaining tissue designated for incineration."

My hand hovers above my glass.

Not even twelve hours ago, I was peeling every inch of skin from a man and eating a bowl of cereal as I waited to see who won– Hypothermia or blood loss. Surprisingly, it's hypothermia. It's always hypothermia. And every time I find it just as fascinating.

Then I handed what was left of that bastard off to be turned into kibble.

Morality’s a fickle bitch.

I swallow the rest of my whiskey, closing out of her file and leaning back in the booth. My fingers idly drum against my thigh as I determine my next move. A311 didn't come here, trying to return home or hide. She knew there was nothing– no one– here for her. This was never her destination.

The Registry has controlled her life for the last seven years. That’s more than enough time to break someone's spirit. Reduce her into a submissive warm hole.

But she isn't.

My hand drifts to where she stabbed me, thumb grazing over the frayed material of my pants and the scabbed skin.

Would she do it again?

Eager to find out, I reach down and adjust my thickening cock. Grabbing my wallet, I toss a few bills on the table and stand just as my prey walks straight into my sights.

Jersey takes a hesitant step forward, brows pinching together as she scans the room. Her chin dips with recognition as she seemingly finds what she's looking for. One hand reaches up, clutching something around her neck as she crosses the room. The hem of her oversized hoodie catches on the silver handle of the knife tucked into her back pocket as she leans against the bar.

An older man turns to face her, slinging the towel he'd been drying glasses with over his shoulder before tipping his head toward the end of the bar. She scurries that way and he strides to meet her, his arms folding across his chest as they exchange words. He points to the door, gesturing as if he's giving her directions.

Looks like the little stray is getting ready to run again.

Her back’s still turned to me, so I seize the moment and rise to my feet. Tugging up the hood of my sweatshirt, I make my way to the door and slip outside unnoticed.

The air’s crisp, the clouds hanging low with the promise of rain. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I lean back against the bricks with one foot propped up, hood slung low to conceal my face. Pieces of muffled conversations drift over from a group of people clustered across the street, but I couldn't give two shits what they're talking about. My only focus is her. The chase. The sweet satisfaction of capturing my prey.

Primal urges coil beneath my skin each time the door swings open, my fingers twitching with anticipation.

My head snaps toward the sound of metal banging against the building, a few drunks tripping over each other as they stumble out the door. The little stray trails behind them, her boots scuffing against the concrete as she darts around the group and hurries away down the block.

Let the hunt begin.