Torch Song: A Kickass Heroine, A Post-Apocalyptic World: Book One Of The Blackjack Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page B

time,” Jo said. “There may be work for you.” The gambler smiled, the scar down her cheek a deep crease. Jo caught Samm’s eye.
    “Take a walk with me, Samm.”
    He waved another dealer over to take his place. Jo led Samm out the front door and into the warm night, the lights of Blackjack casino dimming and scattering the stars.
    They both attracted admiring glances, Jo with her bright blue brocade waistcoat, her velvet knickers, her sleek helmet of short black and deep gold hair. Samm with his wide shoulders in the ruffled white shirt, his black vest, shiny boots, clever, exotic, angular olive-skinned face.
    Several locals nodded as they passed. Jo knew the nods were likely for Samm, a more public figure than she was and more well-liked.
    She touched his arm. “Judith says you’re getting restless.”
    “Restless? Yeah. I feel like we’re never going to do anything but plan and bullshit.”
    She shook her head, smiling. He caught the look and grunted, irritated. Samm was a born soldier, a sword that chafed in the sheath. His passion and daring didn’t attract her any more, but she still loved him for it.
    And beautiful. Those cheekbones. The dark almond eyes. She and Samm were the same age, close since they were ten, lovers in their twenties. A long time ago.
    He had never changed. He still played a rash game of poker, she observed and planned, loving the sly slow games of power and politics.
    A shout behind them. Sam whirled around, took a step back. Just a man selling bread. She had begun to move forward again when a toothless bearded man dressed in filthy denim appeared out of the rubble across the street and jogged to the Blackjack side. She caught an angry, flushed look as his eyes flickered over the people around them and settled on her. He touched the knife at his hip, half grinning. She glared back and touched hers. He swerved and disappeared inside a cheese shop. He’d find a pocket to pick tonight. Samm caught up with her. He hadn’t noticed the quick and silent exchange.
    “We were talking,” he said, “about war.”
    “We’re not ready. And war’s not the goal. You know that.” Jo’s older sister Judith said warfare was like a rock rolling downhill. The right size, the right shape, the exact right course, and you get where you want to go. Any of those elements missing, you’ve got chaos, damned thing bumps around all over the place and stops halfway down.
    The army was a distraction and a deterrent but the real war was political, a war of spies and influence and social control.
    “You can’t expect an army to sit around on its ass. They’re getting hemorrhoids for Christ’s sake.”
    She laughed. He grinned back at her.
    “You need a day on the road, wear off some of that testosterone.”
    “Doing what?” He looked hopeful.
    “Sacramento. The first new vax batch is ready.”
    A lab down in Redwood, just outside of the old capital, had agreed to bootleg vaccine for them for a high price.
    “Too bad I can’t take the troops with me.” Jo could just see that. Fifty of them trotting down the western road. She grinned and he smiled back. “I’ll go right away.”
    “Good. But don’t go waving the stuff around in every tavern en route just so someone will try to take it away from you.”
    He laughed. “You know I never pick fights, Jo. I’ll bring it home safe and sound.”
    If only she could send that aggressive energy to the Sierra Council. Or even to the local lame-duck Tahoe cabinet. But he had no interest in political office, which was a terrible shame with his looks and charisma. He would win any election, look and act and speak like the leader he was, charm the few citizens who believed votes counted as much as influence and money. But he stuck stubbornly with his own passion, and even if the army was secondary in her plans, at best, he could put it together as no one else could. She wished she had three of him, and maybe an extra to take over for the dead Tahoe mayor. Poor