11: Brice
Brice
The sun had only been up for an hour and already Brice’s shirt clung to his back. No wonder people here preferred the night.
Piran wiped his hand across his brow. “You couldn’t get any other time?”
“Says it had to be now.”
“He’s the best you could find?”
“He checks out.”
“And you’re an expert on lattice-hackers?”
“This guy gets repeat custom. Comes recommended. Turns more people away than he takes on.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s good.”
Brice bit his lip, told himself Piran’s attitude was down to nerves. Didn’t stop him wanting to punch the wimp in the mouth, though.
Why the hell did he have to baby-sit Piran? Was Ryann afraid he’d run off or something? Or did she expect him to hold Piran’s hand, give him some kind of moral support.
So his lattice had been turned off. Di
