Place: Train car on Bilander in the Northern Earth Dens, C.T.O.N.A.
Time: 2:05 a.m.
Ashley Winsor was the meanest devil-may-care harvester on any train that ran underground. She’d spent years perfecting her rough-and-tumble male persona. On the surface of the planet, she survived the ice and snow like she was born for the harsh weather. Deep in the Northern Earth Dens, no one crossed her. Ash was king. No one told her what to do, and no one she met knew she was a woman.
Until today.
Just as Ash had thought she would force Weaver to back down, the no-good harvester did something she never thought was possible. He used some type of weird magic on her. He changed her world forever.
Ash had followed Weaver and the young woman traveling with him out of the cave bar and onto the train platform. They were led by Raiden Muttson who ran from the riot when the betting had gone to hell.
Mutt, she knew from traveling the trains and trekking on the surface of the planet. He was one of the many men who gathered items from the ice to sell. They ran in the same circles but never crossed paths other than to sling an insult or two. The woman, however, was a stranger. Ash was sure she would remember someone with eyes the color of blood.
Ash jumped the train and held on to the cold metal door handle. She took a second to glance behind her to make sure her best friend, Stone, shadowed her. Her other traveling companion, Morgan-Roth, was nowhere to be found, but she didn’t have time to hunt for him right now.
Stone was taller than most men, and his long strides easily kept up with her pace. Her friend didn’t ask why they chased Mutt, Weaver, and the woman with him. Stone simply followed her. That was her favorite thing about him. He shadowed her, and he cared about her. Sure, they never said things such as they “liked” each other. And sure, they never touched, other than when they punched each other in the arm, but she knew he was fond of her. Stone might be a little dumb and a marshmallow at times, but so far in the last two years, he’d stuck around. Right now, she was happy he had stayed. She needed him to face Weaver and his chums. There was no way she would let them get away with starting a fight in the bar and making her look bad.
Ash pulled the door open and tossed herself and her pack into the train. She snaked through the cars after Weaver, thinking about how he ruined the betting at the bar.
Laying Odds was the only harvester bar worth a damn. Since she had started pretending to be a man, no one had dared screw her over like he just did. She was King Winsor. Weaver would soon learn what happened to people who messed with her. Ash may not like the kind of hard, crude life she had to live, but whether she liked it or not, that didn’t matter. What mattered was she didn’t lose her position. Her life might be tough, but she survived, and no one hurt her. She wouldn’t let anyone hurt her again.
The door to the lounging train car opened. Stone lagged, but she trusted that he would catch up. She spotted Morgan-Roth with Weaver, the vampire girl, and Mutt. It appeared Morgan-Roth had switched sides. Ash shook her head as she tailed the group. She couldn’t blame Morgan-Roth too much. He was a priest. If anything, his only allegiance was to God. Fair enough. Her only allegiance was to money… and Stone.
Ash opened the next door. Ahead of her, Weaver and the crew halted in the hall. The tall Indian stood next to the little woman with red eyes. The lady tried to get a door open to some private quarters. So, they thought they could get her tossed out of the bar, make her lose money, and they would get to kick back and nap on the train? No way.
Ash reached the woman’s side first. She snapped her hand out and gripped the red-eyed woman’s arm. That stopped her from opening the door.
“I got an angry mob back there. I’ll be strung up for the stunt you fucking pulled. I’m never going to be allowed into Laying Odds again.” Ash would have to make an example of them. Maybe even shoot them. If she didn’t, she would appear weak. I am King Winsor, she repeated to herself.
Weaver shoved Ash back. She let go of the woman’s arm. Ash’s chin rose. Weaver had some nerve, the faffing ham-stain.
“Don’t touch Nova. If you have a problem, it’s with me.” Weaver took a step closer to Nova. Apparently, the harvester had finally met someone he wanted. Too bad she didn’t give a shit. Ash glared. She didn’t care a dike’s damn about his precious Nova. She had her own ice to climb.
“Get out of my way, Weaver,” Winsor demanded. She wouldn’t back down, she couldn’t. Her reputation was at stake. Her status was always at risk. If someone heard about even one time that she let an incident go, it could mean the beginning of the end. There was always a wanker waiting to take her down. She knew what it was like to be at the mercy of someone else. Never again.
Nova tried to turn the key in the lock. Ash reached around Weaver and grabbed her hand. Not going to happen.
“We’ve got business.” Ash couldn’t believe Weaver was blowing her off anyway. He was out money too. Didn’t he care? “That’s money lost.”
“Don’t touch Nova again. This is my last warning.” Weaver threw Ash’s hand off a second time. What was wrong with him? Did he forget who she was? She and Weaver had made bets and lots of money together for years before he quit harvesting. Maybe Weaver forgot that she was Ash Winsor.
“I rule the trains, Weaver, or have you been gone so long that you’ve forgotten? Do you think you’re sunshine now that you have a vampire to fuck?” Ash’s eyes jumped to the red-eyed elf next to them. She might be able to grab the key from the little woman’s hand.
From behind, Ash heard the door open with a grinding sound. Stone pushed his way into the hall. With him, Mutt, Morgan-Roth, Nova, and Weaver all in the same hallway, Ash felt slightly claustrophobic. She shook that off. Stone was here. Being with her best friend was always a good thing.
“Stone.” Ash’s eyes never left Weaver. “Pitch Weaver off the train. Give him to the riot.” See how he would like that.
“You made a bet. You lost,” Raiden snarled.
Ash glanced at the young blond-haired harvester. Raiden Muttson bugged her. Mutt made her want to slap him and suck his bottom lip. She hated the feelings he inspired inside of her, so by default, she hated him. The glaring and the insults had worked for her so far. She wasn’t going to change their dislike of each other. Change was not on the agenda today.
“I did no such thing,” Ash snapped at the sexy Asian with the stupid ponytail on top of his head. Really, Mutt should cut his hair. She didn’t mind the silver spike in his ear, but the hair could go. Her eyes went back to Weaver. It was time to concentrate. “I said the vampire could have her money. I never said anything about Weaver. I’m thinking to soothe my headache, it might be best to fling Weaver to the harvesters back there. I think the vampire and I will get to know each other while they rip you apart.” Ash smiled. That sounded just like King Winsor.
If she were alone, she would’ve congratulated herself for coming up with a solution that would scare others in the future. Weaver was collateral damage. If she wanted people to stay afraid of her, she had to do things like this. “You’re a hot piece of ass.” Ash eyed Nova. She could use this woman to protect her identity as a man. “After I cover your eyes, you can show me what you do to get Weaver so hard, unless….”
Ash smiled, but her brain came up with an even better plan. She could gain her lost money back and not have to toss anyone off the train. That would show the other harvesters they couldn’t screw Ash Winsor, and she didn’t have to kill Weaver. Honestly, she wasn’t up to killing anyone. Some days being a king was exhausting.
She eyed the red-eyed girl. The woman said she had a lot of money. Ash could take that to recoup her loss.
“You want to pay me all your HOCs to go away. For the right price, I could piss off.” Ash smiled. Problem solved.
“Is that a threat?” Nova asked.
“I don’t threaten. I state facts.” Ash glared. Unfortunately, Weaver didn’t look scared. None of them did. Blast it, she would have to pull her weapon. Why couldn’t they just bow down to her so she could go to her room? She was tired and hungry.
Ash grabbed Nova’s arm so she couldn’t use the key to get into the private quarters. They weren’t leaving until this was worked out to her satisfaction. She used her other hand to go for the colt .45 on her hip.
Weaver glanced at her hand, and Ash paused. The energy of the hall suddenly felt dreamlike.
The train itself seemed to gasp. Ash felt rooted to the spot like an imaginary person had just nailed her feet to the floor. She tried to back up, but her muscles didn’t even twitch. Ash was now a living statue, and she wanted to scream.
Something strange was happening.
