Justin by Allyson James Page A

me.”
    “Keep it down.”
    She struggled. “I yell once, and every patroller on the Vistara guns you down.”
    “That’s why I need you to shut up .”
    “I’m not afraid of you.”
    “I don’t give a shit. Don’t say a word.”
    The door of the coffeehouse slid open, and the four girls came out, talking together. They pulled silken veils down to keep out the heat, but didn’t stop their chatter, which they all seemed to be doing at once.
    Justin did his best not to look. He tried not to turn his head, to not so much as move an eyeball.
    But he couldn’t help it. Sybellie tossed her veil around her throat, her clear voice touching Justin like a caress.
    Deanna glared at him. “You’re up here to watch them, aren’t you? Aren’t they a little young for you?”
    “I wasn’t watching them.” Justin had gotten so good at lying.
    She ignored him. “Are you stalking one of them? Was she who you were coming up here to meet? If she’s underage, you are so screwed. Tell me, Justin. I’ll find out anyway. Or was it all of them together?”
    Justin pushed her harder into the wall. “You leave them the hell alone.”
    Deanna’s eyes widened again, this time with a look of pain. “Oh, gods, Justin, you really are stalking them.”
    “No, I am not.”
    “Then why are you up here? Why are you risking your life?”
    Justin let go of her, fear swirling through him. “All right, all right.” He raised his hands, pretending to be cool, when his heart was pounding so hard he wanted to die. “It’s true,” he said quickly. “I’m a perv. I like young, soft flesh.”
    Deanna’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
    “Shareem can’t lie.”
    “But you’re doing it. Again.”
    Fuck.
    Her pistol came up. It was a stun pistol only, but she could drag him anywhere if she knocked him out.
    “You are going to tell me every word of what’s going on,” she said. “Or I’ll arrest you again, and I don’t care how many d’Aroths gang up on me to get you out.”
    “Fine.” Justin reached into his robes. Deanna’s trigger finger tightened until Justin pulled out his handheld. “I’ll call my ride. It’s more comfortable than a patrol car.”
    “Why not watch from the car, then, where I couldn’t find you or shoot you?”
    Justin pushed buttons that summoned the chauffer. “You wouldn’t understand.”
    Bor Nargan glass tended to be very thick and full of shielding. Looking through the shielded glass of Brianne’s car to the heavy windows of the coffeehouse rendered the coffeehouse’s windows an almost opaque gray. If he stayed in the car, he wouldn’t get a clear view of Sybellie.
    The car slid to a silent halt at the other end of the alley. Justin grabbed Deanna’s hand and towed her along with him toward it.
    The car’s back door slid open. Justin all but shoved Deanna inside and climbed in behind her, dropping onto the seat with her before the door closed again.
    The chauffer turned and looked at them through the window of his compartment. Deanna’s gun was obvious, but Justin shook his head.
    “It’s all right,” he said through the speaker.
    The chauffer, used to Shareem by now, turned away and darkened the window between passenger and driver compartments.
    The car was a bubble of privacy and luxury. Cushions softer than any bed Justin had owned cradled his backside. The air was cooled and lightly scented with the odor of meadow flowers. Justin had walked across real meadows on Sirius, and knew that they smelled of mud, decayed grass, and the last passing cow. But none of that would do for the highborn ladies on Bor Narga.
    “How did you afford this?” Deanna asked, looking around in wonder.
    “I didn’t. It’s a friend’s. She loaned it to me for the afternoon.”
    “What friend?”
    “Brianne d’Aroth.”
    Deanna made a noise of exasperation. “I might have known. She’s been very helpful, hasn’t she? Is she one of your . . . clients?”
    “No,” Justin said with emphasis.