Lace Ravine

Chap. 4: Lace Meets Her Match - pt. 5

The journey from the Security building to the Fortas line went off without a hitch, and elation found Lace as both checks to get on and off the ship were unmanned. She felt proud of herself after her meeting with one of the most important IAC officials, and sat in the front of the ship, then strutted confidently onto the streets of Baimok. The stares couldn't touch her now. What she just pulled off, as a known criminal, was nothing short of legendary.

Lace's walk to the hotel was uneventful, and by the time she made it back, the high from her accomplishment had faded, and she entered her room, exhausted. She flopped down onto the stiff bed, and began to wonder exactly who would knock on her door. They couldn't be Graygue. In accordance to an agreement between the hostile race and the IAC, the citizens from either territory couldn't enter that of the other. The only race that wouldn't stand out here was Fortan, but how would Silas even go about getting one of them on his side? Regardless, whoever would show up would not be someone she wanted to see.

After begrudgingly rising to her feet and changing back into her regular clothes, Lace stood with her repacked duffel when the knock came- sooner than she thought, and harder than what one would expect for a covert mission. Lace opened the door. It was her turn to be astounded at the person before her.

"Cadillac?!"

The handsome human squinted his eyes as he flung his words at the woman before him. "I don't trust you."

Lace was stunned. "So you stalked me? All the way from HQ?! You're a lunatic!"

Marc wasn't shaken by the accusation and kept plowing on. "There's no way the same person I met impressed Yoanda. And now I find out you're staying in this place?!"

"I'm poor, you classist nut-job!"

The man frowned and lowered his voice. "What's your game?"

Lace raised her eyebrows. "My 'game'? You're insane, man. I'm just looking for work."

"No, you're pretending to be someone else." Marc huffed.

"I'm not the one using an alias!" Lace blurted a phrase she knew was awful as it left her lips, and Marc's face twisted into a combination of offended, hurt, and disgusted.

"That's a low blow and you know it."

Lace sighed at his accuracy, then commanded. "Leave."

Marc straightened to his full height. "No. Not until you admit that you're up to something." Lace's mind flopped around in panic, desperately trying to think of some excuse to get him to leave before Silas' men would arrive. Then suddenly she watched in amazement, as air slid aside behind Marc, and a furious Phocorian male appeared in what seemed like a floating invisible box. Lace gasped without thinking.

"Vin!" It was in fact Maisy's bodyguard who had appeared beyond the balcony, his extraordinarily intimidating eight-inch spine lifted straight up in anger. He was leaning out from his personal ship outfitted with the best Phocorian cloaking technology, a technology Fortans could never find a way to detect or imitate.

Marc swiveled around, following Lace's line of sight, and pointed in amazement at Vin. "A Phocorian!"

Vin placed a foot on the railing to steady himself, and extended his arm toward Lace. "Grab on."

Lace smirked, and left her room with bag in hand, maneuvering around a baffled Marc. "Jeez, Vin. Buy a girl a drink first." Vin rolled his eyes, then wrapped his arm around Lace's small waist, lifting her off the ground with ease. Marc jumped away from the rescue, confused and terrified at the fearsome looking stranger. Lace checked out Vin's muscles and chest around her, and remarked. "Hell-o, sailor." The pair left the balcony, leaving the other human behind, speechless.