“Told you we don’t want any trouble,” the bulky bartender said, pointing the glass he was drying toward the exit of the dive bar Jade had just entered.

On her way to the spaceport, she had found herself crossing the entire length of Belarus City, and for some reason she couldn’t understand, ended up walking in front of the repurposed container. Its broken sign advertised the establishment as a drinking hole, and she decided that a brief break wouldn’t ruin her tight schedule. She entered, hoping the place would talk to her.

“Did you see me before?” she asked the bartender, ignoring the suspicious looks from the other patrons.

She could feel their eyes following the white patterns from her arms to her face. The moment they understood what the extension of her marks meant, those distrustful gazes transformed into fearful ones and the customers averted their eyes, busying themselves with their cheap drinks once again.

A smile quirked her lips. It was good to be feared. It was what Jade had always liked about being an assassin, the respect that came with it. It made her feel untouchable.

As she walked to the rusty countertop, people moved out of her way.

The bartender glared, crossing his muscular arms over his large chest. “You came three days ago.”

Three days. Jade assumed she had sought Vivaldi the same day she had arrived on the planet. It made sense that she was in a hurry to have the procedure done, and nobody in their right mind would linger on this forsaken outpost longer than necessary.

She looked around and amended her previous thought. Almost nobody. The couple sitting at the wasn’t here on business. Their clothes and hairdos gave away their wealth. Rich people daring the Outer Belts for the thrill of it. Idiots.

The woman looked at Jade before lowering her gaze in fear. She grabbed her man’s hand like a lifeline as they scooted out of the booth and left the place in a hurry.

Jade couldn’t help but stare at their intertwined hands.

Something elusive, a fraction of an incomplete thought, knocked at her mind, evoking a sense of loss. It was too fleeting for her to grab its significance, but it left behind an unsettling emotion. Sadness.

“Blue Absinthe. Pure,” the bartender said.

Jade turned toward the bar, focusing on what the man had said. It took her a moment to put together his words with her previous question. “I ordered absinthe.”

“That’s what I said.” The man gave her his back—which elevated him in her opinion because very few would expose themselves in front of an assassin. “Care for some?” He turned with a bottle in his hand.

The turquoise beverage sloshed against the glass walls of the bottle, calling to Jade. She was thirsty, but when she opened her mouth to place the order, her stomach revolted. She gasped and hugged herself tight.

“We don’t want junkies here,” the bartender said. He leaned under the bar and resurfaced with an electric blunderbuss. Illegal on more than five hundred planets, the weapon was difficult to use because it caused much damage at close range; inside a limited space like the dive bar, it would destroy more than its intended target. Only a man who knew how to handle its power would dare go through the hassle of buying one on the black market, much less use it in front of witnesses.

“I’m not a junkie,” Jade said, knowing that wouldn’t be any reasoning with a blunderbuss aimed at her head.

She could see how the man would think she was one of the many amaranthine addicts, flying to the Outer Belts to score their favorite choice of drug for less. After all, Blue Absinthe was the junkies’ favorite chaser. The liquor was a mild hallucinogenic, and it prolonged the effects of the amaranthine.

“You had me fooled with all that shaking.” He swayed the mouth of the short pistol, motioning for her to get out.

“I’m here for answers.” Jade straightened her back. “Not a junkie.” She placed her hands on the bar. The sensation of her palms against the warm surface was familiar. She willed her body to stop trembling, showing the man she was saying the truth. No amaranthine addict could do that. “I drank my drink and then what?”

“If I answer this one, will you leave?”

She nodded.

“You didn’t drink your absinthe but still paid for the entire bottle and left.” The bartender lowered the pistol to the counter. “Now go.”

Jade couldn’t help but be impressed by the man’s nerves of steel. In her presence, people became subservient. For a moment, she contemplated the idea of taking the bartender outside and slamming his hard body against the corrugated walls of the container. A quick release would do her a world of good, and the man looked like one who could deliver a few minutes of pleasure. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken care of her physical needs.

Maybe it was the nausea still rocking her, but Jade discarded the notion right away and left.

Back on the street, she hurried toward the spaceport.