Read The Omega Device (The Ha-Shan Chronicles Book 1) for Free Online

her face buried in her book. “By the way, I deposited that money yesterday. The rent's paid for the next two months.”
    “Only two?”
    Mandy looked up again, flicked her pen back and forth, “Ash said you should hold onto the rest in case you need it.”
    “I… guess that makes sense.”
    Mandy sensed her apprehension, countered earnestly, “We just need to take care of the rent for the next couple months, then see how the competition turns out. Like it or not, you're getting what's yours. We both agree, so the rest's in the savings box.”
    “Mandy, as long as the rent's paid—”
    “Maggie, c'mon,” Mandy half-whined. “You're the only reason any of us has a job. Be real. We're not going to fault you for needing to pay rent.”  
    “I—”
    Mandy raised her hand, “If you want to argue, take it up with the big girl. I'm not sayin' anymore.”
    “Fine. I won't to spend it 'til—”
    Mandy shoved her fingers in her ears, finished with the conversation. Maggie thought to protest, but the bell over the door rang. It drew Maggie's gaze to the young, platinum-blonde, Jamie Willis as she sauntered in.
    Jamie was a walking billboard for one of Oakton's true, economic and social extremes; a young, rich-woman, who despite unseasonable cold, managed a tan that bronzed otherwise pale-skin. Maggie was never exactly sure if the tan was acquired through a bed, a distant beach, or powerful blood magic, but it never faltered over time.
    Moreover, Jamie's impeccable skin was always clad in bright, designer clothing that likely cost more than Maggie's shop. Despite it, they found one another intriguing, if only to see how the other-half lived.
    “Heyyy Maggieeee,” Jamie said, straining words as usual.
    Maggie produced an appointment booklet from the desk, “Hey. You're not due in 'til noon. What's up?”
    “Yeah. I was wondering if we could start early. I've got a thing later. I wanted to get as much in today as we can.”
    “Uh, yeah, but it'll cost more for more work.”
    “That's cool. I got plastic today.”
    Jaime flashed an elite, black credit-card her father occasionally bestowed to shut her up or keep her out of trouble. Maggie didn't much care what color the card was, money was money. Jamie always paid on-time, tipped well, and treated Maggie as an equal despite their financial divide.
    Maggie moved to begin setting up, “I'll get everything ready.”
    She hurried off, mind racing. Jamie's father could afford whatever Maggie charged, but her work's quality was her concern. Normally, she mentally planned the execution of every detail. With clients that came in off the street, she flew through as fast and accurately as possible, promising free, future, touch-ups in the event anything was lacking. Ryusaki was an example of this, her concern thankfully lightened by the work's simplicity.
    Now however, she'd have to add extra work without proper, mental preparation. It certainly wasn't impossible, but it was worrying . She did her best to psych herself up while prepping her space. In retrospect, Jamie's piece was relatively easy; side-body lotus flowers entwined with lilies and roses on a vine. The color was straight-forward, easy to mix, and with only basic shading on flat stems.
    She took a slow breath, finished prepping, then pulled Jamie in from the counter. She laid on her side, shirt off, on a gurney that replaced the normal chair. Maggie raised her stool to accompany the new height, jostled the dangling strings of Jamie's bikini top drawn up to reveal the tattoo's outline.
    Maggie glanced over its inner-workings. They were only a quarter complete, but the outer-lines were finished. She thanked herself for her foresight, readied her inks and machines, and set to work.
    Over the next few hours, they kept up a perpetually shifting conversation to help Jamie block out the pain. That such a flaky, high-maintenance woman, would ever consider something so permanent was always a wonder to Maggie. More so, it was