“Hey, Hunter,” Brand said.
“What?” Hunter asked. She came around from the back and scowled at Brand.
Gideon blinked. Hunter was a woman, long dark brown hair, brown eyes, tanned skin, and broad shoulders. She looked grumpy.
“Prospective needs a knife.” Brand said.
Hunter looked past Brand at Gideon. This must be the puppy everyone was buzzing about. Looks like he’d gotten up the courage to ask into the pack if Brand was calling him a prospective. Brand must be looking to test him to see if he was club material. If the puppy passed, he’d be part of the Club on a provisional basis. The latest prospect to harass and annoy with the club kutte as a badge to prove it. Hunter had her own ways of harassing and annoying. She needed someone new to use them on. Everyone else was getting too used to her ways.
Hunter looked at Brand. The knife test was a bit extreme. Who was she to argue with him? Brand’s club. Brand’s rules. She raised an eyebrow. “Let me see his hands.”
Brand took a step back and gestured for Gideon to come over. Gideon tried to quell the uneasiness in his guts and did as Brand wanted. He held his hands up for Hunter to see. Hunter reached beneath his view, pulled out a silver cuff, reached through the window, and clasped it around his wrist.
Gideon’s glasses automatically materialized over his face as the computer recognized the device, though he’d actually never been in contact with one of them in his life. He heard about them, seen one maybe once, joked about how much easier it would make military life, but never actually had one on his wrist before. He wasn’t sure how it worked, except that the cuff could hold weapons and ammunition, like how a computer could hold data. He knew how to use one of them out of curiosity. He’d never had a chance to try one before. They were worth more than he wanted to think about without breaking out into a cold sweat.
The contents of the weapons bracelet came up on interior of his glasses lenses. There was a knife, and according to the system it wasn’t a real one, a holographic version. He clenched his fist and a large bowie knife materialized in his hand. That he was at least familiar with. He hefted it. It didn’t feel any different than what he was used to. He laid his hand flat and the knife disappeared. That was uncanny.
He looked at Brand.
Brand jerked his head towards the door. “This way.”
(No really, what is Brand up to here… :P)