Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X, #1)(42)

The morning of the trip, Justin got up early to go jogging. It had sort of become a mandatory practice after resuming his Exerzol habit. Exerzol was a hundred times better than caffeine when it came to focus and alertness, though not nearly as powerful as a similar one he’d found in Panama. Unlike that sketchy drug, however, Exerzol was much less likely to give him a heart attack. It always hit him with a jolt in the mornings, providing a burst of nervous energy that had immediately been apparent to Cynthia. “Do not hang around this house high,” she warned him the first time she’d noticed the rush. There’d been a look in her eyes he knew all too well, one that only a fool would cross.

And so, jogging became his way of dealing with Exerzol’s exuberant entrance. An hour loop through their sedate suburb usually brought him back down to a reasonable energy level, and the exercise wasn’t a bad thing anyway. Living in a world of bodyguards and constant threats in Panama had encouraged him to stay in good shape, and he didn’t want to lose that now.

As he returned to the house that morning, he found Mae approaching. He didn’t really think his trip to Leo required a bodyguard, but SCI had been adamant that she be his shadow whenever he conducted any official business.

“What’s that look for?” he asked her.

Mae crossed her arms, face impassive. He always took inventory of her clothes, and she was casual today in a damask patterned blouse and jeans that did incredible things for her legs. It was fitting, seeing as her legs could do incredible things. “What look?”

“The one that says you can’t believe I do anything physical.” He opened the front door and gestured her inside.

“Oh, no,” she said with icy pleasantness. “I believe you do all sorts of physical things. I just assumed they involved rolling dice and helping women out of their clothes.”

“And I jog,” he added. He ran a hand over his forehead and grimaced. The downside of these morning runs, aside from having to look at identical lawns, was the sweat. “I’m going to hit the shower, and then we can head out to the train station. Tessa’s going with us.”

Mae looked startled. “On an assignment?”

“No assignment today. Not exactly. It’s a trip to visit an old friend.” He frowned as he glanced toward the living room, where Quentin was explaining to Tessa the TV social media feature that allowed viewers to see scrolling commentary from others watching the same show or movie. Tessa was intrigued but also baffled by what she simply viewed as people’s need to see themselves talk. “She should get out more, especially since she’s starting school in a couple days.”

The scathing expression Mae reserved for him faded as she watched Tessa. In their occasional encounters this week, he’d seen Mae’s frosty exterior warm up to genuine affection whenever she interacted with Tessa. It reminded him of the woman who’d shared his wine and bed in Panama.

“How do you think she’ll do?” Mae asked.

“She’ll be okay,” he said with more confidence than he felt. “Once she’s thrown into the thick of things, she’ll adjust.”

Thrown to the wolves you mean, noted Horatio.

Justin ignored the raven and headed off to shower. He returned an hour later and found that Mae had joined Tessa and Quentin as they discussed scrolling commentary on movies. “You’ll have to ponder the mysteries of media exhibitionism another day,” Justin told them. “It’s time to go.”

Tessa’s face fell. “I really have to go?”

“You’ll love it,” he assured her. “Portland’s great. Think of this as your last big hurrah before school.”

That seemed to cheer her up. Even when she was reluctant to do something, she usually wouldn’t refuse if he asked outright. She was impertinent by Panamanian standards but compliant by Gemman ones. He wondered how long it would take to shake that docility out of her and if he’d be proud or worried when it happened.

As it was, she was looking more and more like a Gemman girl, especially with her love of jeans. She still wore her long hair elaborately braided and wrapped behind her head. It was a little odd and old-fashioned but didn’t attract the kind of attention her provincial clothing had.

The ride to Portland took about two hours by high-speed train, but Leo actually lived outside of the city, in the wine country to the west. Limited public transit ran out that way, so hiring a car was required for the rest of the trip. The ride was beautiful, with rolling green hills and sprawling estates tucked in among vineyards. Most of the chaos and degradation of the Decline had happened in urban centers, and many people had fled to pastoral settings for safety. Some of these houses had been around since those times.

Picturesque or not, Justin had a hard time imagining trendy Leo making a home out in the country. He was—or had been—a city creature if ever there was one. He’d lived in one of the hottest districts in downtown Vancouver, sacrificing space in order to be within arm’s reach of the most exclusive clubs and bars. They’d often gone out together, and Justin had spent a few nights passed out on Leo’s living room floor.

It was around noon when his entourage finally reached the address. Leo’s house wasn’t one of the mammoth, century-old estates. It was small, cute, and well kept but could only be described as a cottage at best. The house appeared to be situated on a fair amount of property, with a vineyard stretching out beyond it. It was also the quietest place Justin had been since returning to the RUNA.