obviously barbarians, but there really are limits to the kind of behaviour we're prepared to tolerate here. This is a civilised Club for civilised people. Clean civilised people. If you expect to meet with our most distinguished Members, we can't allow ...'
'Can't?' said Suzie, her hand dropping to one of the grenades at her belt.
The Steward might not have known what a grenade was, but he knew a threat when he saw it. He drew himself up to his full height. 'This Club is under the protection of the entire pantheon of Roman gods and goddesses. Start any trouble here, and you'll be leaving this lobby in several buckets.'
Suzie sniffed loudly, but took her hand away from the grenade. 'I don't think he's bluffing, Taylor. There's no-one more strict and unyielding about its rules and traditions than a newly formed exclusive Club. And the Roman gods were famous for their hands-on approach to smiting unbelievers.'
I looked at the Steward, and he actually fell back a pace. 'They couldn't keep us out.'
'Maybe not,' said Sozie. 'But if we were to force our way in, you can bet no-one would talk to us. The kind of beings who could help us are not going to be the kind we can hope to bribe or intimidate. Hell, Taylor, what's it coming to when I'm being the voice of reason? What's the matter, you forget to put on clean underwear?'
'You don't have to do this, Suzie,' I said. 'You can stay here, while I go in.'
'Hell with that. You need someone to watch your bare back. Especially in a place like this.'
'I'm trying to protect you, Suzie. After ... what happened to you ...'
'I don't need protecting.' She looked at me levelly. 'I don't care about this, John. Really. You're being very ... sweet, but don't worry yourself on my account.'
I glared at the Steward. 'This had better be worth it. Do you have any real Powers present tonight?'
'Oh yes, sir. All sorts. We even have an actual deity in residence. Poseidonis, god of the seas, has graced us with his noble presence. Be tactful with him, he's been drinking. He's also the god of horses, though no-one seems to know how that came about. Don't bring it up, you'll only upset him, and it takes ages to get all the seaweed out of the pool afterwards. If you'll follow me ...'
He led us through the doors at the far end of the lobby and into a pleasant little changing room, with long wooden benches. Beyond the next set of doors, I could hear voices and splashing sounds. The air was perfumed and pleasantly warm. The Steward coughed meaningfully.
'If you'll let me have your... garments, sir and lady, I'll have them thoroughly cleaned before you leave. It won't take a moment...'
'Watch out for the coat,' I said. 'It has serious protections built in.'
'I wouldn't doubt it for a moment, sir.'
'And don't mess about with my weapons,' growled Suzie. 'Or they'll be scraping your people off the walls with a trowel.'
She shrugged off her shotgun in its long holster, then took off her bandoliers of bullets and her belt of grenades. The Steward accepted them, suitably gingerly. Suzie didn't look at me as she shrugged off her leather jacket, and nothing moved in her face, nothing at all. I took off my trench coat. It felt like removing a suit of armour. Suzie took off her shirt and stepped out of her leather trousers. Underneath, she was wearing basic, functional bra and panties. It made sense. No-one else was ever expected to see them. I took off my shirt and trousers, glad I had remembered to put on a clean pair of jockeys that morning. I've never liked boxers. I like to be sure of where everything is. Suzie took off her underwear, and so did I. The Steward gathered everything up, going out of his way to make it clear our nakedness meant nothing to him. He sorted everything out into one manageable pile and lifted it up, almost disappearing behind it.
'Your clothes will be cleaned, and your weapons guarded, until you are ready to leave, sir and lady. Enjoy the baths, stay as long as you like, and please remember to get out of the pool to take a piss.'
He backed out, and the doors swung shut behind him, leaving Suzie and me alone together. For a long moment we stood and looked at each other. For all the things we'd done and been through together, we'd never seen each other naked before. I'd thought I'd feel awkward, but mostly I still felt protective. I kept my gaze on her face at first, trying to be polite, but Suzie didn't bother with any of that. She looked me over with frank curiosity. So I did the same. She had so many scars, so many old hurts, tracking across her body like the map of her troubled life.
'And those are only the ones that show,' said Suzie. She smiled, as our eyes met. 'Not bad, Taylor. I always wondered what you'd look like, without the trench coat.'
'You look great,' I said. 'I always thought you'd have tattoos, somewhere.'
'Nah,' she said dismissively. 'I could never make my mind up. I just knew I'd end up hating it in the morning.'
'Just as well,' I said. 'It would have been like scribbling graffiti across a masterpiece.'
'Oh please, Taylor. I have no illusions about how I look. Even before my new face.'
'You look fine,' I said firmly. 'Trust me.'
'You smooth-talking devil, Taylor.'
We couldn't maintain the light tone any more, so we stopped talking. She had a good body, with large friendly breasts and a pleasantly padded stomach. But the scars were everywhere; knife wounds, bullet wounds, the marks of tooth and claw. You don't get to be the best and most feared bounty hunter in the Nightside without being willing to fight up close and personal.
'You have scars, too,' Suzie said finally. 'Life has left its mark on us, John.'
She reached out a hand, and slowly, cautiously, she traced some of my scars with her fingertip. Only the very tip of her forefinger, a touch gentle as a breeze, wandering across my body. I stood very still. Suzie had been sexually abused repeatedly as a child, by her own brother. She killed him for it, eventually. But ever since she'd never been able to touch or be touched, by anyone. Not even the briefest touch, the gentlest caress. Not by lovers, or friends, or even me. She stepped a little closer, and I held myself very still, not wanting to frighten her off. God alone knew how much strength it took, for her to do this small thing. I could see her breasts rising and falling as she breathed deeply. Her face was calm, thoughtful. I wanted so much to reach out to her... but in the end, her hand dropped to her side, and she turned her face away.
'I can't,' she said. 'I can't... Not even with you, John.'
'It's all right,' I said.
'No it isn't. It'll never be all right.'
'You've come such a long way, Suzie.'
She shook her head, still not looking at me. 'What's done can't be undone. I've always known that. I can't... care for you, John. I don't think I have it in me any more.'
'Of course you do,' I said. 'Five years ago, you shot me in the back to stop me leaving, remember?'
She nodded, and looked at me again. 'It was a cry for attention.'
I moved in close, trying hard to seem supportive without crowding her. 'There was a time ... you wouldn't even have been able to do this much, Suzie. You're changing. So am I. And we monsters must stick together.'
She looked at me, and though she didn't smile, she didn't look away. Slowly, and very cautiously, I raised my hand, and with the very tips of my fingers I touched the ridged mass of scar and burn tissue that now made up the right side of her face. The hard skin felt cold and dead. Suzie looked into my eyes, hardly blinking, but she didn't flinch.
'You do know,' I said. 'That I will never let you be hurt like this again. I will bleed and hurt and die before I let this happen again.'
But that was a step too far. The warmth went out of her eye, and I quickly took my hand away from her face. She looked at me for a long moment, her expression calm and cold and utterly controlled.
'I can look after myself, Taylor. But thanks for the thought. Shall we go and take a look at the baths?'
'Why not?' I said. The moment of intimacy had passed, and I knew there was nothing I could do to retrieve it. 'But if anyone points at me and laughs, I am going to slam his head against the wall until his eyes change colour. Even if he is a god.'
'Men,' said Suzie. She flexed her hands unhappily. 'I feel naked without my shotgun.'
'You are naked.'
We pushed open the changing room doors and stepped out into a large steam-Slled chamber, most of it taken up with a grandiose pool. The air was immediately hot and sweaty, the steam thick as fog. Half a dozen
