IT HAD BEEN a whole day since she’d last left her room in the Society.

At least, Jo thought it had been a day. She hadn’t turtled like this in quite some time. The hours washed over her like the one stone they couldn’t erode. Her anger was just as present as it had been when she’d left Yuusuke’s apartment.

She’d wished to save his life, and her family’s. But her mom seemed in no better shape—if anything, worse—without Jo’s monthly stipend deposited into her account. And Yuu was headed right toward failure with all the determination of a high-speed rail.

What was the point of her wish? What was the point of her even being here?

A knock on the door startled Jo from her thoughts. She twisted her head, looking dully at the offending portal. Didn’t everyone know that she was too busy sulking and feeling sorry for herself to entertain?

Another knock signified that her self-pity was officially over.

“Come in,” Jo called out. After a brief pause that seemed almost hesitant, Jo watched the knob turn and the door creak open.

“Jo?” Takako peeked around it, taking a cautious step into her room once she caught sight of her. “Wayne said you’d come back here after seeing your family, and no one else has mentioned seeing you for two days,” she said, as if trying to explain her presence.

“So, it’s been two days, huh?” Jo mumbled. She sat and massaged the stiffness from her shoulders. “I guess I really don’t need to eat anymore.”

“No, you don’t.”

Takako’s matter-of-fact manner brought a small smile to Jo’s lips, one she quickly abandoned. “So, what’s up?”

“Wayne said you were pretty upset.”

“I don’t need taking care of,” Jo huffed, even though her actions screamed to the contrary. “And I certainly don’t need Wayne spreading my personal business.”

“All he said was that you visited family and that you were upset. We don’t really pry when it comes to past lives.” To Jo’s surprise, Takako laughed—a soft breath of sound—but enough for Jo to hear. When she glanced back at the other woman, she was smirking, a subtle, barely-there tilt at the corner of her mouth. “And I’m sure you don’t need ‘taking care of.’ Even if you did, that’s more Nico’s thing.”

“All right then. What’s your thing?”

“Well,” Takako said, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I figured you might want to let off some steam.”

“What might that entail?” Jo already knew it would involve finally leaving her bedroom. It was way past time.

Takako just gave a nod of her head and strode out the door, leaving Jo to disentangle herself from the cocoon of sheets. At the sound of Jo’s door closing, Takako glimpsed over her shoulder, as if to make sure Jo was still following.

When they got to the Four-Way, Takako led her straight across, where Wayne had pointed out the recreation rooms. There hadn’t been much detail offered on her tour, so Jo’s old curiosity perked up right away at the possibility for new information.

They stopped in front of one of two rooms positioned across from each other. Further down the hall, Jo spotted a solid black door to the left, and one in white at the very end. Neither had nameplates. At least, she thought neither of them did. They were so far away that she could make out little other than their color.

Before Jo could ask about the mysterious black and white rooms, however, Takako was pulling her smartphone out of her pocket and placing it on a small, gold shelf next to the door in front of them.

“We have to leave our watches outside?” Jo asked, involuntarily reaching for her own wrist.

“Don’t bother.” Takako stopped her from taking off her wristband. “No one can touch another person’s watch. And once yours is on the shelf, no one can alter that recreation room either.”

Eyeing Takako’s smartphone, Jo asked, “What do you mean no one else can ‘alter’ it? Use it, you mean? Like a sock on the door?”

At this, Takako chuckled again. “No, physically alter. The room molds itself to what you need. And, until you take your watch from the shelf, it won’t mold to anyone else. People can come and go, but it’d be useless to them if they want something different.”

As if in explanation, Takako chose that moment to open the door.

The entire room appeared to be a rather elaborate gun range, filling the area in both a width and a length that far exceeded what should have been possible based on the layout of the building. Targets were already set in place, each pulled back from the shooting booth at various distances, some going all the way out to what must have been at least five hundred feet, maybe more.

“So, firearms?” Jo sidled up next to Takako as she walked over to the side wall, the entirety of it lined with all manner of firearms from semi-automatics to long-range sniper rifles. Jo wasn’t deeply familiar with the logistics of gun use, nor would she consider herself a connoisseur. But that didn’t mean she was a novice either.

“I usually only use the recreation rooms to practice,” Takako answered, grabbing a few guns off the wall and placing them in one of the booths. She followed that up with a few boxes of ammo. “But sometimes, I also come when I need to clear my head.”

“So, they—the rooms I mean—change for everyone?” Jo’s mind was already spinning with possibilities.

Takako nodded. “It changes based on what you need.”

Takako was loading bullets into her first gun, a semi-automatic if Jo had to guess. As she watched in silent appreciation of Takako’s almost elegant familiarity with the weapon, Jo couldn’t help but wonder what her own recreation room would look like. Maybe it would have a really elaborate, high-priced, decked-out desktop—like the one she’d always dreamed about owning one day. The sort of thing she’d only buy when she’d done her last gig, made all the money she could hope to make, and was wasting away her days in a penthouse suite somewhere.

If she thought about it, she’d already crossed most of those things off her list:

Last gig, check.

A magical mansion was better than a penthouse. So, check.

She didn’t really have any need for money, now. Damn, if she wasn’t careful she’d talk herself into thinking she had a sweet setup going here.

“All right, you ready?” Takako successfully pulled Jo from her own thoughts once more, placing the gun in front of her in the booth.

“Me, first?” Jo blinked, looking down at it with a wary eye. She’d shot a gun before, sure; it was hard to avoid in the Lone Star Republic. But it had been long ago enough that Jo was in dire need of a quick safety review.

Takako seemed to catch on quick, thankfully, and smirked a bit as she reached over and grabbed two headsets off a hook to Jo’s left. She put one on, and then, without hesitation, reached over to place the second over Jo’s ears. Jo could feel the gentle touch of the other woman’s thumbs as they brushed her temples, could see the concentration in Takako’s eyes as she adjusted the earmuffs to where they completely blocked out all sound.

Suddenly, the sound of her own breathing, a bit rushed, seemed very loud.

Before she could dwell on the other woman’s kind and careful action any longer, Takako was grabbing the loaded gun, clicking off the safety, and aiming. A deep breath, finger moving with practiced ease from the flank of the gun to the trigger, and then suddenly she was firing.

For the first shot, all Jo could do was watch her face. Takako’s expression never wavered, never flinched, both eyes open and zeroed in with a savage sort of focus. It was mesmerizing. It took Jo a substantial amount of effort to drag her eyes away and back to the targets.

With each shot, no matter how far, a bullet careened easily and poignantly into a bullseye.

Jo’s jaw dropped. It was incredible, like watching a pianist execute a perfect concerto, or a baseball player bat a perfect game. She could practically feel the energy emanating off of her, rolling in waves as each bullet left the chamber. It was as if she could see an aura radiating around her. Almost like, like—

Oh. It was like magic.

Once all six bullets had been fired, Takako took off her headset and set it on the booth. Jo did the same, still somewhat slack jawed.

“So that’s your thing then?” she asked before she could stop herself, trying not to flinch at the lack of tact. “I mean, your magic. You’re. . . a good shot?”

Again, Takako smiled at her, shaking her head a bit in amusement. This time, when Jo felt warmth spreading across her cheeks, it was welcome.

“A ‘good shot’ might miss. A ‘perfect’ shot, however. . .” For the first time since meeting the woman, Jo swore she saw pride in her usually reserved expression. Takako’s posture radiated something Jo could almost call smug satisfaction.

“Right,” Jo nodded. Takako was their sharpshooter. Jo was their hacker, even if being their hacker had been meaningless so far.

Hacking.

The idea brought Jo right back to Yuusuke. But instead of anger, a new thought filled her, one of possibility. The recreation rooms could become whatever was most appealing to members of the Society, whatever they wanted. . . What Jo wanted right now, more than anything, was to make sure her sacrifice meant something.

“Okay then.” Jo nodded, grabbing her headset and placing the muffs back over her ears and allowing that notion to simmer in the back of her mind. She grabbed one of the loaded guns and aimed as best she could, trying to seem relaxed, like she wasn’t now buzzing with nervous energy. Before unlocking the safety, however, she glanced over at Takako, grinning. She hadn’t felt this good since before the Society. “What do I do first?”