Emperor of Rage: Chapter 9

Little Plum, my all-time favorite ramen spot, buzzes softly around me.

Legit, this place is amazing.

Now, granted, I’ve never actually been to Japan, which I’m guessing would alter Little Plum’s spot at the top of my favorite ramen joints. But for now, this place is the shit.

Plus, they run it more like a café than a restaurant, meaning they don’t just tolerate laptops, but actually encourage you to sit and hang for as long as you like.

I’ve been coming here ever since discovering it when Annika and I first got to New York. Usually it’s a Zen place for me, but tonight, it does little to ease the storm that’s been building inside me all day.

I sit at a small table, slurping down my chashu ramen while running some security checks on Kir’s home network. Since he runs a ton of his business through it—both legal and illegal—part of my job is making sure the thing is utterly secure. So I’m trying to focus on that, but I’m not really succeeding.

Because of him.

Fucking Mal.

The Crown Prince of Malevolence. Maliciousness incarnate.

Everything about him messes with my head—his presence, the way he looks at me, the darkness that constantly swirls around him. I should be able to shut it out. Shut him out.

But I can’t.

No matter how hard I try to focus on the screen in front of me, he’s there, lingering in the back of my mind, a shadow I can’t escape.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my tired eyes, forcing myself to concentrate. I need to get this done. Kir’s been waiting on the security updates for days now, and I can’t afford to fall behind. But my mind won’t settle. Won’t let me forget the way Mal looked at me. The words he growled at me.

I shake my head, trying to shake the thoughts with it. I take another slurp of ridiculously tasty pork ramen, but it’s no use. I’m restless, my thoughts spinning in a hundred different directions, not one of them related to the task at hand.

“Excuse me?”

A soft voice pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. I blink, looking up to see an Asian girl sitting at the table next to mine. Her dark hair is swept up in a messy ponytail, and she’s dressed…well…like me.

Black skinny jeans, a black hoodie, and jewelry on her wrists and fingers that would fit in just fine at a fetish club. She winces behind her dark, thick-rimmed glasses as she looks at me with a pleading look.

“I hate to ask, but do you mind if I borrow your phone charger for a few minutes? I forgot mine at the hotel like an idiot.”

Her voice is heavily accented, but her English is flawless.

I blink again, shifting my mind from Mal to the present and finding my social footing.

“Oh—yeah, of course,” I say, rummaging in my bag and pulling out my charger. “Here. Take it for as long as you need, I’ll be here a while.”

The girl smiles, relief washing over her features. “Thanks so much. You saved me.”

I give her a small smile in return. “No prob.”

As she plugs the charger into her laptop, I happen to glance at her screen. Honestly, I’m a nosy shit and I look at people’s screens in public all the fucking time. But when I glance at hers, my attention is instantly snagged by something familiar. The girl’s doing encryption work.

Ugh, I can’t help myself when I spot another security nerd.

“Sorry, is that a twofish-based GPD encryption algorithm?”

Her face lights up as her head whips back to me. “Yeah!” Then her brows knit behind her glasses. “Wow, good spot! Are you…?”

I nod, feeling an odd sense of kinship settle over me. “Yeah. I do security work mostly; building networks, some code modeling training.”

Her eyebrows raise in interest. “That’s awesome!”

I smile a little, feeling the edges of my earlier tension start to ease. “You?”

“Freelancer,” she says, shrugging lightly. “Mostly ethical hacking, helping companies stress-test their systems. I like it, keeps me on my toes.”

“Nice,” I say, nodding.

“All above-board stuff, of course,” she adds hastily.

“Totally. Same.”

She smirks, biting her lip as she glances over at me. “I mean, not always above-board…”

My smile widens. “Same.”

She laughs, extending a hand. “Cain.” She rolls her eyes. “Sorry, it’s dumb, I know. But I don’t share my real name with people until I’ve known them a while. That’s my online handle.”

I smile, shaking my head. “No, I totally get it.” I take her hand and shake it. “I’m Freya. Real name. Nice to meet you, Cain.”

She grins. “Awesome to meet you, real-name-Freya. It’s so rare to run into someone who understands all of this. People usually give me weird looks when I try to explain what I do.”

I laugh, feeling the connection growing between us. “Yes! They think it’s all like the movies—some guy in a hoodie typing furiously on a laptop.”

We pause when we realize we’re both actually wearing hoodies, and have just absolutely been furiously typing on our laptops. The two of us crack up, screeching with laughter as the rest of the place looks at us like we’re nuts.

“Are you from New York?”

I shake my head. “I’m from all over. But I’m here now. You?”

“Japan,” she shrugs. “I know, the Italian accent threw you off.”

I snort. The accent is completely East Asian.

This girl is funny. I like her.

“Do you come here a lot? This is my first time here. I’m staying at a hotel close by and I needed a change of scenery.”

I nod. “Yeah, I love this place. Though I’m guessing the ramen is way better in Japan.”

She makes a face. “Eh, there’s shitty food in every country.”

I grin. “Well, it’s definitely a good place to come when you need a change of scenery. That’s why I’m here tonight. Things have been…”

I trail off, frowning.

“Sorry, too much information,” I say.

“No problem,” she smiles, laughing a little. “I get it. Sometimes, you just need to get out of your head for a while.”

“Exactly,” I agree, glad she doesn’t pry.

We settle into an easy conversation after that, touching on everything from our favorite coding languages to the best laptop-friendly coffee shops in New York. It feels good to talk about something other than the mess I’ve found myself in lately. For a while, at least, I can pretend everything is normal.

But even as we talk, I can’t completely shake the feeling that there’s something lurking beneath the surface, waiting to pull me under.

A couple of hours later, after Cain and I have exchanged phone numbers and emails and said our goodbyes, I find myself walking aimlessly. The city hums around me, but the cool evening air does little to soothe the unease that’s crept back into my chest.

Meeting Cain was unexpected. But good. It’s rare to meet someone who shares the same world I do. Still, even as I replay our conversation in my mind, a part of me is restless. No matter how much I try to distract myself, my thoughts keep circling back to Mal.

Clearly, I can’t escape him. Nor can I escape the feeling that I’m being pulled into a storm that I can’t control.

But maybe…

Maybe I don’t want to.