For Every Market, a Submarket Grows

Graverobber awoke. But it wasn’t the quick, sudden jerk into consciousness. It was like he floated slowly up from that sleeping place, up into the world. He became vaguely aware of a warm body against his. His arm around someone a fair bit smaller than him; he was curled around this other body like cat. His nose was buried in hair, and he knew instantly from the scent who it was. It was the kid. It was Shilo.

Jesus Christ, it was Shilo. He’d really done it. All that time trying to ignore her, trying to forget her, trying to remember that he was nothing but a grave-robbing drug dealer, only to succumb in a moment of fucking weakness. He was better than that.

His fists clenched as memories of the night before flooded him. God, he’d even told her his name! What was wrong with him? Was he some love-struck teenager? Was she really worth it?

Jonas turned and looked at her. Shilo was still sound asleep, her face relaxed and smooth. An almost-smile played on her full lips, and he wondered what she was dreaming about. He hoped it wasn’t him. He sighed, and ran a finger across her lower lip. Just the sight of her made him grow hard again, made him want nothing more than to pound her into the mattress, to feel her under him, to make her bite her lip and call out his name again.

He rolled onto his back, trying not to look at her. It was harder than he wanted to admit to himself. God, he had it *bad* Now he had to figure out if it was just lust, or something more. He wasn’t sure which to hope for. If it was just lust, he could leave her without a second thought. In fact, he should leave now, before she wakes up.

-Graverobber, you are a genius,- he thought to himself.

Graverobber stood carefully and dressed, doing his best not to wake her. It didn’t take him long to get ready. He went to the door, then turned, getting one last look at her. God, she was so beautiful. The light from the moon played on her skin, made it glow. He wondered what she’d do when she awoke and found him gone for good. Would she be angry with him? Most women would. Would she blame herself, wonder if she wasn’t good enough? Graverobber didn’t like that thought, but his mind was going now, and it wouldn’t stop. She would cry. She would wake up, and she would look for him, and when she saw that all his things were gone, she would sink to the floor and she would sob, as if her heart had been ripped out. Because he was all she had. And if he left now, she would be completely alone.

Graverobber took a deep breath and was ashamed to realize that tears had filled his eyes at the thought of breaking Shilo’s heart. He swiped them away, then slowly set his bag back on the floor. Okay. So it wasn’t just lust. Then what the hell was it?

God, the sight of her last night in the bathroom had hurt. He’d never seen someone so utterly broken. He’d seen Zydrate-addicts and scalpel sluts, rapists and murderers, but he’d never met anyone who so internalized everything. Shilo took everything to heart, because she really cared. She wasn’t jaded or cynical. This world had nearly ruined her, and she still cared enough to try and make sure it didn’t succeed. Shilo was something he’d never met before. She was innocent.

Well… sort of. Not as much now, not now that they’d - *sigh*

Jonas sank to the floor, leaning his head against the door. He was so screwed.

He remembered picking her up, carrying her into the bedroom, laying her on the bed. He’d tried to leave, but she’d grabbed onto his arm and wouldn’t let go. His intellect told him to *make* her let go, but his decidedly baser regions told him to just get in bed with her. And when he did, it was so tempting to just slide his hand onto her thigh. After all, she was curled around his arm, it was the only way to be comfortable. And the sight of her smooth, creamy skin below the hem of her skirt and above her thigh-highs had been so tempting… and Graverobber was a man who could resist anything but temptation.

He’d always prided himself on his iron self-control, but something about Shilo made that all but obsolete. She was just so new, so fresh, so real, more so than anyone he’d ever met. Everything about her was vivid and bright. Those eyes that glittered like black jewels, that creamy skin, and dear God, that mouth. Every time she bit her lip he came undone.

God, and her blood… blood and a hot, red mouth, two of his worst and best kinks, and there she’d been, standing in his arms offering both. He’d had to do something, and licking the blood off her lip kept him from shoving her onto her back and pounding her into that filthy mattress. He could still taste her blood; it was sweet and hot, like cinnamon and dark chocolate.

And the thing was, it wasn’t just Graverobber that wanted her. It wasn’t just that slick, arrogant persona he used to sell Zydrate and survive on the streets. Shilo made him remember that he was a man, with a name. Shilo made him want to be Jonas again.

So, there it was. Graverobber wasn’t stupid, and Jonas wasn’t a liar. He had to admit the truth to himself, much as he didn’t want to, much as it made him feel weak. He hadn’t had sex with the girl. He hadn’t fucked the girl. He’d made love to the girl.

He’d made love to Shilo.

He loved Shilo.

And he was so screwed.

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

Pavi sat impatiently in his sister’s office, his hands folded in his lap. His trademark mirror was gone. After the events at the abandoned hospital, Pavi had stumbled home, his vision blurred with tears. He’d gotten home, and saw one of his hand mirrors laying on the bed. And he’d smashed it.

He hadn’t been able to look at himself since.

The metallic *snick* of the elevator doors opening made Pavi’s blood go cold. There she was, this sister he no longer recognized. He’d never dreaded the company of family before. For all their quirks, Pavi loved his siblings more than anything. But this new Amber… this was not his baby sister.

“Pavi, brother!” Amber exclaimed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. The sound was like poisoned honey, and made Pavi shiver. Amber came to stand beside his chair, and Pavi looked up into her new eyes. He was suddenly struck by a vivid memory. He’d been sixteen; Amber had been two. She’d been playing in one of the old operating rooms, and something had frightened her. She’d come toddling on her little legs, so fast she might have had the devil on her heels. She’d ran to Pavi, her arms up, crying. He’d picked her up and set her on his lap, and she’d held onto him like her life depended on it. Her remembered holding her and rocking her, telling her that everything was alright, and there was nothing to be afraid of. Finally, she’d calmed down, and had looked up at him with a smile, a look of such adoration that he felt it as a physical force. He remembered she spoke, then, saying only, “Pavi,” in a her sweet, child’s voice.

All this, he could remember. But, no matter how hard he tried, as he looked back at this distant memory, he couldn’t for the life of him remember the original color of his sister’s eyes.

The realization hit him in his chest, at the hollow place where Luigi and Father used to be.

Where Amber used to be.

It wasn’t until then that he realized that absence of something hurt worse than any scalpel.

“Pavi, what’s wrong?” That sickeningly sweet voice made his stomach churn.

He looked up into Amber’s cold, false eyes. “Nothing, sister.”

She was not his sister.

“Good!” she chirped. “Because I need your help.” She hopped over to the desk, and sat down in her father’s big chair.

“No,” Pavi said immediately. “I want-a no part of your schemes, Amber.”

“What schemes?” she asked, trying to look innocent. “I just want to have a conversation with an old friend. After all, she was almost our half-sister.”

Pavi stood. “I will not help you do this Amber. I don’t-a know what you are-a planning, and I do not-a care. I will have no more of your jealous, vindictive vendetta.” He turned to leave, stopping when he reached the door. He turned back to Amber and said, ”When they kill you, like-a they did Luigi, I will-a make sure your coffin is pink. It is, after all, your favorite color.” And with that, he left.

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

Shilo groaned. She was waking up, and everything on her *hurt*. She shifted under the covers. It felt like there was someone sitting on them. She opened her eyes. Graverobber was sitting at the edge of the bed, watching her. She felt herself blush red-hot, and immediately ducked her head under the covers. Cursing herself for her childish reaction, she nevertheless stayed there, waiting.

“Shilo?” Graverobber said, and it was his tone of voice that convinced her to come out. He sounded… unsure. It was so strange, that she lowered the covers from her face, just to see if it was really him. “Yeah?” she said, trying to sound grown-up.

He smiled. “Hi.”

Shilo gave a nervous laugh. “Hi.”

“I have to go out,” Graverobber said.

“Why?” Shilo asked, pouting slightly. She watched his eyes flick to her bottom lip. He was always doing that; what was so fascinating about her mouth?

“Because I need to earn some money,” he replied, his eyes meeting hers.

Shilo frowned. “And what if I asked you to stay here?”

Graverobber shifted on the bed slightly. After a moment he said, “I’d ask what I’d get if I stayed.”

Without thinking, Shilo replied, “Well, what do you want?”

Graverobber’s smile spread into a wolfish grin. “See, sugar, that’s why I’m leaving. If I took what I wanted right now, you probably wouldn’t walk for a week.”

Shilo felt herself turn beet red. He was right; she was still really sore. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Fine, then. Go sell drugs.”

“Will you be here when I get back?”

What an odd question. “Um… I live here,” Shilo replied.

“No… here, in the bed.”

*Oh.*

Shilo decided to try her hand at seduction. She smiled what she hoped was a suggestive smile and replied, “Do you want me to be?”

It seemed to work. Graverobber leaned down and caught her mouth with his. The kiss was strong, nearly lifting her off the bed. When he pulled back, Shilo blinked a few times. “Okay,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I thin that’s a yes.”

Graverobber smiled again. “Goodbye, Shilo.” He left then. Shilo didn’t watch him go. She was too busy grinning at the ceiling, listening to the butterflies fluttering in her chest.
After a moment, Shilo realized she was still naked. She got up, then, and dressed, trying to figure out what Jonas would want to see. She finally decided on a short black skirt, a black tank top that she usually wore under other shirts, under her usual black thigh-highs and boots. She headed downstairs, humming happily, wondering if there was an salvageable food in the kitchen. When she got to the landing, she heard an odd, bell-like sound. She stopped and glanced around. What the hell was that? She looked towards the door. There was someone standing outside. The bell rang again.

Shilo slapped herself in the forehead with the palm of her hand. It was the doorbell. “I’m coming!” she shouted, taking the stairs two at a time. She slid on the hardwood floor and nearly ran into the door. Catching herself on the doorknob, she threw it open.

Standing there, her arms crossed, a dangerous smile spreading across her face, was Amber Sweet.

Shilo grimaced. Crap.

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



Hey, guys, thanks for the reviews! I know I said there'd only be one more chapter, but I lied! There's at least one more coming after this!