A realisation hit Anouk like a hammer. “I don’t have any money to pay for the clothes.”
Amanda waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don’t you worry about it, love. We’ll sort it out later. Nat is a good friend of mine and his friends are my friends.”
“Have you known him long?”
“Oh, several years now. He once took care of an issue for me.” Amanda grinned and winked.
Anouk frowned. Did bounty hunters in this world work for whoever offered a sufficiently big reward and not just for the authorities? Had Amanda used Nat as a debt collector? Even broken a few kneecaps?
“Was it serious? This issue, I mean.”
“Well, you could say that.” Amanda turned her back and scanned the shelves stacked with neatly folded clothes. “Let’s see… oh yes, this looks nice.”
A question died on Anouk’s lips, her look less than favourable as Amanda held aloft a pink shirt with abundant frills.
“No?” Amanda asked.
“Sorry, no. It isn’t really my style or colour.”
“Alright. How about this?” Amanda pulled out a canary-yellow shirt. Anouk winced again. “We’ll keep looking.” Amanda gave a warm smile and folded the shirts back.
Anouk sighed in relief. “Yes. I like more subtle colours.”
“Subtle colours, you said?” Amanda moved down the shelves where there were clothes of a more earthy tone.
The selection had been a positive surprise after all, and after trying on a few sets of clothes, Anouk found some she liked—a brown shirt, black waistcoat, black trousers and lace-up boots. Anouk slipped her katana over her shoulder and fastened it with a strap on her back. She tested withdrawing the sword—it glided from the scabbard with no difficulty. Anouk stepped in front of the large mirror and examined herself from head to toe.
“Wow, I look like a real badass,” she said, satisfied.
Amanda’s eyebrows shot up, and she glanced at Anouk’s behind. “Excuse me, Miss Herring, but your bottom looks just fine.”
Anouk blinked first, but then burst out laughing. “No, I didn’t mean my bum. It’s an expression where I come from, and it means a tough person in a good way. And, please, call me Anouk.”
“Well, Anouk, you certainly do look tough in a good way, but for your outfit to be complete, it needs something more.” Amanda vanished behind another shelf for a moment and came back carrying a black cap and a pair of brown gloves. “Try these on.”
Anouk took the cap and turned it in her hand. The style was the same as newsboy caps from the early twentieth century—round, eight-panelled with a button on top and stiff peak. She put it on.
“It looks good on you.” Amanda nodded. “And you can hide your hair under it.”
“True.” Anouk took the cap off, tied her hair in a quick bun and slipped it back on. “Brilliant.”
“And any true lady needs a good pair of gloves.” Amanda handed the pair over.
Anouk rubbed the leather between her fingers. “These are so soft and lovely.”
She turned to check her reflection once more. If nothing else, at least now she wouldn’t stand out. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. So, you and Nat are on a mission?” Amanda asked in a casual tone as they walked back to the front room. Her lifted eyebrows spoke with curiosity.
“Yes, we have a man to capture.” Her gut twisted and she swallowed. Just this morning she had been an accountant in London. In a matter of hours, her boring, but peaceful life had turned topsy-turvy, and now she was allied with a bounty hunter on another planet trying to hunt down the most wanted criminal before he hunted her down.
“Oh, you’re a bounty hunter as well?” Amanda asked.
Anouk took a deep breath and shot a sideways glance at Amanda. She was pulling aside the curtain separating the backroom from the shop, unconcerned. “Not exactly. I’m an accountant.”
“Ah.”
Nat leaned against the shop counter. He straightened and looked Anouk over from head to toe.
Anouk gave him a twirl. “What do you think?”
“Very good,” Nat said, admiration shining on his face. “Can you draw your sword when it’s on your back like that?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then there is room for a couple of guns.”
“No, no guns,” Anouk blurted. Both Nat and Amanda looked bemused. “I don’t like guns,” Anouk continued. “I don’t even know how to shoot.”
“I can teach you.”
“Thank you, but no. I’ll stick with my sword. You do the shooting, I’ll do the ‘looking-menacing-with-a-giant-toothpick’.” Anouk pulled the katana and took an attack pose, twisting her face into a scowl.
Nat gave her a flat look.
“Not menacing enough?”
“No. I thought you said you could use it.”
“No. I said I have some skills.” Anouk straightened her posture and glided the sword back into the scabbard. “Guess, I have to practice that ‘looking menacing’ a bit more.”
Nat gave another nondescript expression before turning his attention to Amanda, who was hiding her mouth behind her palm. She was trying hard not to laugh, Anouk guessed.
Amanda cleared her throat and pulled her face neutral. “I’ve never seen a sword like yours, Anouk.”
Anouk blushed. “It’s… er…” Nat had said she could trust Amanda, and she seemed very nice. They seemed to be… very close friends. Not that the nature of their relationship was any of her business. Still, she was reluctant to say where her sword was from. Or indeed, where she was originated. Amanda had fingered her clothes and shoes inquisitively, nevertheless, she had said nothing, she just smiled and turned her attention to Nat.
“Anouk said you’re after a man.”
“Yes, Stalo.”
Amanda’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know he was loose.” Her voice shook.
“He escaped two days ago. It should be in the Rondon Gazette, and enforcers are spreading the wanted posters.”
“It must have been in yesterday’s paper then.” Amanda veered behind the shop counter. She took a newspaper from under it and spread it out in front of her.
Anouk craned her neck to read the small print. There it was, a big article on the front page.
Dangerous criminal and brutal former warlord Stalo De
