All tagged Jackie DeCoeur

New Morning

The bruising around Lucky’s eye was bad, and it would hurt like blazes for days, but at least Honeysuckle hadn’t broken any bones.

“How many times she hit you?” Jackie asked Lucky, as she handed the steak back to the boy.

“Just once, Miss Red,” the boy mumbled, pressing the steak back against his eye.

Jackie nodded her head, then turned to face Honeysuckle. “What’d you hit him with?” she asked.

“Left cross, Miss Red,” the minotaur said.

Jackie whistled softly. “Nice punch,” she said.

3:15 to Dayko

The man swallowed nervously, and he nodded his head. “You’re making a mistake,” he stammered, as he walked over to the metal table and began to unbuckle the belt around the woman’s neck. “You don’t understand who they are. We have to be protected. They’re not natural. They’re not—”

“—I really need you to stop talking,” Jackie said, “before I shoot you to make you stop.”

Six-Shooter

Sax had been to enough hangings to know that most men closed their eyes in the second before the lever was pulled.

As he bent his head forward so that the Judge could slip the noose around his neck, Sax resolved not to. He would hold his head high, and he would keep his eyes open, so that the gathered crowd would see that he was not afraid.

Rest for the Wicked

In a silent, abandoned orphanage, that had seen more suffering than any sort of building has a right to, Jackie DeCoeur looked down at a faded white line, and she thought about judgment.

As a little girl, the line had filled her with a special mix of terror and resentment. Terror at the sure and certain knowledge that she would be judged and found wanting; resentment at the sure and certain knowledge that there was nothing she could do to change that fate.

She was marked, and she could never be unmarked.

She was the devil girl. The girl with eyes the color of blood.

The Sincerest Form of Flattery

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Lucy said, “I’m not impugning your accomplishments, and I have only the greatest respect for your many talents. But I look at you, and I can’t help but see wasted potential. All those souls lost when you just shoot men dead. All those pesky human hang-ups holding you back.”

The demon’s smile widened, and she rolled over on the banquette so that she was balanced on all fours in a kind of feral, predatory posture.

“And I was going to say that it’s a shame that you’re going to get old and decrepit, except I think we both know that’s not the case.”

Foxtrot

The woman looked at the whiskey bottle in her hand, held it upside down for a moment to confirm that it was well and truly empty, then slid it away. With her newly liberated hand, she tapped a downward-pointed finger on the floor next to her. “The men downstairs are Harriss and Argyle. I used to work with them. We’re having a business dispute.” Her mouth curled into the semblance of a smile. “At this point, I don’t think the partnership can be saved.”

Red Eyes

“You think you're so smart? I built the Waste up from nothing,” Brax growled. “I brought industry, and progress, and civilization. I turned the sand into gold. People have tried to stop me before – short-sighted people. You can find their bleached bones all across the Waste. If you think that you can destroy me, well, then you’re gravely mistaken.”

Jackie laughed again. “Destroy you? I make so much money off of you, we’re practically partners.”