“Kat, wait for me,” Mason called after his daughter as they entered the glass skyscraper in central Sky City.

“It’s okay, Daddy, I can go myself.” She had her lime green suitcase in one hand and the other already pressing the elevator door.

“I know you can, kiddo, but your old man likes to take you up himself.”

Kat frowned and turned away from him.

Shit

His fucking in laws were probably talking crap about him again in front of her. He’d tried standing up to them, but without them he wouldn’t be able to send her to the Sky City school district and he’d fucking eat his badge before he’d send her to school in the slums.

“Okay honey, you’re all big and grown now, I guess you don’t need me to walk you up.”

She smiled up and him and dropped her hold on her suitcase, wrapping her arms around his middle tight. She was getting strong. Seven years old already and tough like her mama. When Jackie had died, he never thought he’d survive it. But Kat had held him together, her little face reminding him every single day why he got up in the morning.

The elevator chimed and Mason watched as his daughter scurried off to grab her back and slide into the metal box. She pressed the button and waved until the doors closed.

He stood there and watched the closed doors, listening to the spinning gears that sent his baby up to his in laws clutches, or ex-in laws, or late in laws. He wasn’t sure how that worked when you were a widower. They blamed him for her death, for dragging her down into the slums, even though the slums hadn’t given her cancer so aggressive even the latest stem-cell and nanite technology couldn’t cure her. The slums hadn’t ravaged her body so fast he’d hardly heard the doctor’s diagnosis before she was gone. But the slums had been there to hold him together, to give him meaning.

He sniffed and straightened his posture, his blue police uniform dingy in the white and glass halls of Sky City.

Well fuck them all. The snobs who said he wasn’t good enough for her never loved anyone the way he’d loved her. And now he had Kat, who was Jackie’s mirror image, but with even more attitude than his spitfire wife had. And he’d do anything for her, even if it meant swallowing his bride to make sure she got the best education possible. Even if it meant letting Chance slip him a little money for giving him a heads up before raids on the Cyborg Fights. No one really cared, it was all a publicity stunt anyway. Once every two years some official would get it in their craw to make an example.

Mason didn’t have time for people like that. Either you’re good or you’re not. Do the right thing or shut the fuck up. So he did his own right thing.

“Hey meathook, you gonna stand there all day?”

Mason turned and found a small curly haired woman with her hands on her hips. She wore pants so tight he was pretty sure they were just her legs dyed black and an orange and red patterned shirt that hurt his eyes.

“What did you call me?” he asked, scratching his beard.

“Meathook, you know like left hook, but only one of yours is made of actual meat.”

He sighed. “Great, a ecovangelist in training. Or are you one of those transhumanists who thinks you’re above a few gears?”

“I don’t know, are you one of those metal-heads who aren’t good for anything but work no sane person would do?”

Mason blanched, taken aback, and then to his eternal shock, the girl started to laugh. Her curls flew everywhere, bouncing from one side of her head to the other like they had minds of their own. Medusa and her snakes would have been hard pressed to outdo her.

“Hey, no offense big guy, just say you standing here like a depressing statue and thought I’d fuck with you a little. I’m Meira.”

Mason stared at her, unable to put together a coherent sentence. He was just fucking with him? He had to be twice her weight and easily a foot taller, and wore a fucking CCPD badge on his chest. What kind of person just starts shit with someone like him?

“You gotta be out of your fucking mind.” The words tumbled out as he shook his head.

“Maybe so, see ya’ around Meathook.” She glided passed him and out the door.

A beat too late he called out, “It’s Mason.”

But she was gone, the glass door clicking shut behind her as he watched her ass in those sinfully tight pants. Meira, huh?

Before he could think about her any more, a blast rang out from the building’s office at the end of the hall, sending shards of glass through the air. Shit. He ran toward the sound. Someone had set off a bomb, a small one, but from the wires hanging from the ceiling and the damage done to the tech in the room, it was well made and targeted, and set off at a time when no one would be there.

And from the room he was pretty sure Meira had just sauntered out of.