For Every Market, a Submarket Grows

Amber Sweet sat at her dead father’s desk, surveying her new kingdom. The old man had dropped, and in her opinion it couldn’t have come fast enough. SHE was head of GeneCo now, and she had a few plans to set in motion. But first… “Ms. Sweet?” came a voice from the intercom on the desk. “Mr.’s Largo are here to see you.”

“Send them in,” Amber replied, smiling. Her brothers walked in a moment later, arguing.

“Pavi, that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard you say!” Luigi shouted. “You CANNOT have our father’s face for your collection!”

“But-a it would look-a so nice next to-a Mother’s,” Pavi replied. He was missing his mirror; his arms were crossed over his chest. Amber could tell he was still upset over Rotti’s death. He was always the most sentimental of them.

“That’s different!” Luigi said. “Mother was beautiful!”

“Stop it, both of you,” Amber said. Both men froze and turned to their sister. The only other person in the world with that deadly tone of voice was their father. It was one of the things she’d inherited from him. “Pavi, you can have Father’s face,” she said. Pavi smiled and lowered his head. Luigi opened his mouth to protest, but Amber held up a hand. “Luigi, *you* can have Father’s knife collection.”

Luigi’s face drew into a pout. “Really?” he asked, on the verge of tears. Amber nodded. Luigi’s face broke into a huge grin as he turned to his brother. “What now, bitch?!” he laughed.

“And I have jobs for both of you,” Amber continued.

“Awww,” the brothers said in unison. “The Pavi does not *work*, Pavi said.

“What’s the point of working?” Luigi put in. “We’re already rich.”

“That is-a good logic, my brother,” Pavi said.

“Thank you.” Luigi gave a mock bow at his brother, who smiled.

“Trust me, you’ll like these jobs,” Amber said with a smile. It was another thing she got from her father; a madman’s smile. “They’re right up you’re respective alleys.”

*************

Shilo awoke the next morning to find Graverobber gone - again. She got up and looked around. It was the first time she’d gotten a good look at the place. It was just one room, not very big. The walls were dirty, the paint peeling. The floor was once carpet, but was now mostly-bare cement, covered in rags. There were a few posters on the walls. One was the typical GeneCo edict: Graverobbers will be executed on sight. Another had a picture of the Graverobber on it, with a caption saying, “Wanted: For Grave Robbing, Zydrate Peddling”. Shilo had to laugh at that.

Casting her eyes around, she saw an old, brown leather satchel. It was almost identical to the one her father had, the one he’d kept all his doctor’s tool in. Her fingers were itching to look through it, find out more about this elusive man. He’d told her repeatedly not to touch anything. Then again, when did *he* ever follow rules? Shilo looked around, then knelt down in front of it. The clasp was tarnished silver, in the shape two wolves’ heads intertwining. She undid the latch, wincing at the loud *click* it made. Shilo bent close and peered inside.

She got a glimpse of something shiny and metallic before a knock at the door made her jump so much that she landed on her back. She lay there for a moment, hoping her quick breathing wasn’t giving her away. “Jack?” came a slurred female voice from behind the door. “Graverobber, you in there?”

Shilo stood, cautiously, desperate not to make a sound. If this woman didn’t hear anything, maybe she’d go away. “C’mon, Jackie boy, come out an’ have some fun.” The woman laughed, and Shilo wrinkled her nose. She was drunk, and probably hyped up on Zydrate. There was a few seconds of silence, then the woman spoke again, this time angrily. “Now, Goddamnit, Jack, here I am, all ready for ya, and you ain’t even sayin’ nothin‘? C’mon, Graverobber, lemme in.” A few more second of quiet. Then, “You asked for it.” The door handle began rattling.

Shilo swooped down, her heart pounding, and closed the latch of the satchel just as the door slid open. Shilo turned and saw a woman standing in the doorway. She was in her late twenties, her black hair messy and unwashed. Her clothes were just like any other scalpel slut‘s, if a bit shabbier. She had a bottle of gin in her hand, and a very angry expression on her face. “Who th’hell’re you?” she demanded.

“Um,” Shilo began, her voice shaking. “I’m just… I’m just a friend of the Graverobber’s.”

The woman snorted. “’Friend’? Honey, *I’m* Graverobber’s…*friend*. Look at you, you’re still kid!” The woman sauntered into the room, a hand on her hip. “Look, honey, I know our Jackie boy’s a hot piece of man, but I doubt you could do anything for him that I haven’t already done.” The woman smiled, casting her glassy eyes around the room. “How did you get in here, anyway?”

“Um…” Shilo was afraid to answer.

“Come on, kid, tell me. It may be a useful trick for when he locks me out.”

Shilo winced and replied, “Well, he let me in. Last night.”

The woman’s face snapped in a drunken glare. “You been here since last night?”

Shilo nodded. “Yeah, I slept on the bed, and…” She realized immediately that this was the *wrong* thing to say.

Without warning, the woman’s palm caught the left side of her face with a resounding *crack!*. Shilo’s head snapped to the side and she fell. She looked up at the woman in fear, holding her cheek. Shilo felt blood well up on her bottom lip; the force of slap had made her bite down. “You little slut,” the woman snarled. “I’ll beat your pretty little face in! Think he’ll want you if I turn you’re skin purple?” The woman kicked Shilo in the ribs, knocking the breath from her.. Shilo groaned as sharp pain flared across her abdomen.

“Stop,” Shilo whispered hoarsely, “please I - “ Another kick to the ribs silenced her.

“Shut up, SHUT UP, you whore, or I swear to God, I’ll - “ The woman’s voice cut off for a moment. Then, “Lemme go!”

Shilo looked up. Graverobber was standing over her. He had the woman by the hair. “You alright, kid?” he asked seriously. Shilo nodded. Graverobber wrenched the woman towards the door. “I kicked you out six months ago, Sherry, what the fuck are you doing back here? Beating my friends?”

“Your friends!?!” the woman shrieked. “More like the skinny little bitch that replaced me! I didn’t know you liked kids so much, Jack!”

Shilo watched as Graverobber tossed the woman onto the staircase outside the room. “Leave,” he said simply. “Now.” His voice was dark and commanding that Shilo wasn’t surprised to see the woman scramble down the stairs on her hands and knees just to get away from him.

Pain throbbed through Shilo as Graverobber crouched down beside her. “Can you stand up?” he asked. She’d never seen him so serious.

She nodded, then, bracing her hands on the floor, pushed her self up until she was on all fours. Then, she slowly stood… and fell forward. Graverobber caught her, and for the first time, he smirked. “We keep meeting like this,” he said as he held her up. She looked up at him, trying and failing to look annoyed at his bad humor.

“Sorry I’m such a hand-full,” she said, lowering her eyes. Graverobber didn’t say anything; that surprised her. She’d expected him to make some snarky comment. She looked back up at him. His dark blue eyes were focused on her bleeding bottom lip. She felt his hand slide up her back, sending shivers down her spine. His icy hand came to rest on her neck, and it was so large it almost encircled her neck entirely. His thumb slid up her throat, raising her chin.

The look in his eyes something she’d only seen on TV, on those silly soap-operas her father used to tell her would rot her brain. It was the look the men got before they swept the women up in a face-crushing kiss. Was that was he was going to do? Was he going to kiss her? Shilo was instantly thrilled and terrified. She’d never kissed a man before; hell, she’d never even been *touched* by one before. The feeling of his hands on her was so new it almost hurt, and for some reason his hands weren’t cold now, they were hot, burning.

Graverobber lowered his head over Shilo’s tilted-up face, and she could swear her heart stopped. What did she do? If he kissed her, did she kiss him back? She didn’t know how! Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his mouth open, and she felt herself beginning to shake. And then, he did something altogether unexpected.

He didn’t kiss her.

Instead, his tongue slid slowly over her bottom lip, sending white heat through all Shilo’s nerve-endings. It took her a moment to realize what he was doing. He was licking the blood off her lip.

Graverobber pulled back slightly. Shilo was still shaking form the experience; she couldn’t tell whether she’d liked it or not. Her eyes focused on his mouth. There was a small drop of blood on his bottom lip. *Her* blood. She instinctively reached up to wipe it away. Her fingers touched his lips, and they parted. Her fingertips brushed feather-light across his tongue and she gasped, pulling her hand away. She looked up into Graverobber’s eyes. They looked almost black now. And there was something in them, something that sent ripples of fear and excitement through Shilo’s body. His look was… predatory.

Graverobber leaned down once more, and Shilo braced herself, knowing that *this* time he would kiss her, and having no idea how she felt about it. She’d never been so unsure of anything, and that was saying something. She felt the barest brush of his lips on hers when a loud voice made her jump so much she thought she may pass out again.

“Hey, Jack, did you - oh.” A young man was standing at the open door, a look of surprise and embarrassment on his face. “Sorry, man, I - “

Graverobber kept his grip on Shilo’s waist, even as Shilo tried to pull away, her face red. “What is it, Jaren?”

“Um…” the boy was hesitant. He obviously felt bad for interrupting them. “I was just gonna… did you hear what they’re doing?”

“What?” he asked. Shilo tried to use this opportunity to move away from Graverobber, but he just pulled her closer.

“Amber Sweet’s ordered all Repo Men off the street. She’s recalling all the Gene Cops, too.”

Shilo saw Graverobber frown. “I don’t get it,” she said quietly. “Isn’t that good news?”

He looked down at her. “Probably not,” he replied. “I should go. I’ll be back later. Don’t - “

Shilo sighed sharply. “I know, I know, ‘don’t touch anything‘. Honestly, you’d think you lived in Largo Manor.”

Graverobber gave her one of his arrogant smirks. “Trust me, what’s in this room is more important and valuable than anything the Largo’s could have.” He released her then and followed Jaren out of the room.

Shilo lowered herself onto the bed, trying to take stock of her situation. She didn’t really understand what had just transpired; all she knew was that she was in over her head. Graverobber had left her confused and shaking, her heart pounding, her stomach tied in knots, and curious sensations somewhere decidedly lower, places she’d barely known existed.

Shilo drew her knees up to her chest, folded her arms and laid her head down. Her cheek and side still hurt from that stupid scalpel slut, but the throb was fading. It was nothing compared to the scalding that Graverobber’s tongue had left on her lip.

She knew she should just leave. She should just get up and walk out, walk all the way home where no one knew how to find her.

It seemed so simple, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Because, confused as she was, scared as she was, that big old manor didn’t feel like home anymore. This filthy little room felt like home.

Graverobber felt like home.

*************