by Cathy Pegau
“Then what?” she asked. “Run away together? Start a new life on some other world?”
There was no derision in her tone, no ridicule as she voiced the very words I’d been thinking but was afraid to speak. She squeezed my fingers, prompting me to look up at her.
Her face had become a mask, giving me no indication whether she felt the same or wanted to see me dead. I had to convince her I was sincere, that this was our only option.
“Yes.” I stared into her eyes so she could see the truth. I lifted her hands and pressed my lips against her cool fingers. “I want to be with you, and this will be the only way that can happen. I can’t have you sent to the correctional mines, and that’s where you’ll go if you don’t talk to the CMA. Please, Zia. I love you.”
Saying it twice in the span of a few minutes made it all the more real, and I couldn’t help giving her a shaky smile. There was a very good chance she hated me, and my admission was the ultimate in unrequited love. But I had to tell her, and it felt good despite the mess we were in. The only question was, did she feel the same?
“Liv—”
“Miss Talbot?”
We both snapped our heads toward the low voice.
“Connor,” she said with a frown, “what are you doing here?”
Zia’s driver stepped closer and grasped her bicep. His other hand was partially hidden inside his jacket, angled toward her waist. “You need to come with me.” Then he gave me as hard a look as I’d ever seen on his bland face. “Both of you. And don’t do anything stupid.”
I reached for my satchel and the pulser inside but stopped, my hand clutching the strap instead. Taking it out now would be doing the “something stupid” he’d advised against.
Zia glared at Connor’s hand on her arm, her body tensing. “What the hell are you—”
I squeezed her fingers. When she looked at me I gave a nod downward. Her gaze fell on the pulser pointed at her side then shot up to the driver’s face. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“Please come with me.” Keeping the weapon under his jacket still aimed at Zia, he guided us toward the main terminal. I held her other hand as we kept pace with Connor’s longer stride. Walking abreast, we cut a wide swath through the crowd.
“The SI in your flat was compromised, Miss Talbot.” He spoke with no more inflection than the security unit I’d breached.
Zia’s jaw tightened as she flicked a glance at me. “Exeter techs shadowed my unit the day it was installed. I thought I’d disengaged all their little tricks.”
My accessing the SI had alerted someone. Damn the void.
Connor’s grin held no humor. “Not all of them,” he said as the steel security door opened. No alarms had gone off. Either he was permitted to carry a weapon through security, or his pulser was coated too.
“So Clemens sicced his dog on me when something tripped,” Zia practically growled.
When I’d first met Connor I’d assumed he was Zia’s bodyguard, but I was wrong. He was a watchdog. Clemens had been afraid she’d flip on them sooner or later.
“Just doing my job,” he said.
“So was I,” she said. The low pitch of her voice didn’t mask the heat in her words. “I’ve gone along with them since the beginning. I’m involved more than just about anyone. Why do they think I’d turn them over to the CMA now?”
Connor’s plain features showed no reaction as he blinked at her and then fixed his eyes on me. “You weren’t in your flat when the files were accessed, Miss Talbot, but it’s obvious you’re…working together.”
“That’s not true,” I argued. Maybe I could get him to let Zia go. “She had no idea what I was doing there.”
He shrugged. “Either way, Miss Talbot’s misjudgment is a liability. And you, Miss Baines, are expendable.”
Expendable? Ouch. And to Exeter, Zia was guilty by association. The odds were good it wasn’t our jobs we were about to lose. I swallowed hard.
Zia’s hand tightened on mine. Connor returned his attention to navigating the crowd, no more perturbed than if he’d mentioned it was raining.
I didn’t know where he was taking us, but he had to get us out of the crowded Station, take us someplace isolated. Too many people around to make a scene, let alone shoot us outright. As if on cue he veered toward a sign indicating the direction to lower level parking. A classic, almost clichéd location for nefarious deeds.
I should have been scared, and I was to a degree, but this whole “I’m just doing my job” garbage made me skitzie. Didn’t anyone put any creativity, any feeling, any passion, into their work these days?
Does sleeping with your boss count?
I almost laughed in a hysterical sort of way before shutting the door on that errant thought.
Fed up with being dictated to first by Willem and Sterling, and now by this goon, I eased my hand into my satchel. Connor admitted I had nothing to lose. My only concern was keeping Zia safe. Going with him was anything but, so we had to change that. If we escaped Connor and headed for the CMA, at least our chance of survival would be better than zero. Maybe not by much, but better.
Fewer and fewer people populated the corridor as we headed to the parking level access elevators. I had to do this now.
I leaned toward Zia, squeezed her hand and whispered, “I love you. Remember that.”
She turned her head, astonishment clear on her face that I’d pick now to say such a thing, but I had my reasons. When I had her attention I jerked her behind me and stepped between her and Connor. At the same time, I yanked my pulser from my satchel and stuck it into the driver’s gut. With his hand still clutching Zia’s arm, it appeared we were sharing a bizarre three-way hug in the middle of the hallway. I’d accomplished my first goal: His weapon wasn’t pointed at her any longer.
It was pointed at me.
My heart thumped painfully. This wasn’t the first time I’d been on the wrong end of a gun, but it wasn’t an event any sane person cared to repeat too often.
Connor lowered his gaze to the pulsers concealed by our clothes and bodies. An amused grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “You’re not going to shoot me, Miss Baines.” His flat brown eyes met mine. “I doubt you’ve ever shot anyone in your life.”
I hadn’t, at least not fatally, but to keep Zia safe there was no question or doubt in my mind I would.
So what stopped me from sending a few thousand volts into him? Immediate death. At this range we were guaranteed fatal shots, but being dead wasn’t my idea of a good plan.
Connor must have seen my hesitation because his grin widened. I wanted to punch the smirk off his face.
“You’re right.” Behind my back I released Zia’s hand. I swung my fist up against Connor’s wrist, loosening his grasp on Zia. She lurched sideways, breaking his hold. I followed her as I pocketed my pulser. “Gun! Gun! He has a gun! Help us!”
The few people in the corridor turned toward us, their eyes locking on Connor standing there with his weapon out, exposed like a perv at a park. For a paralyzed moment the driver’s eyes bulged at my antics. Someone screamed, and others called for security.
Then Connor raised the gun.
I shoved Zia forward, intent on staying between her and the driver. Pivoting, I pushed off that foot and the eight-centi heel snapped. I stumbled.
Ftt-ftt, ftt-ftt-ftt. The bite of ozone from the discharged pulser cut through the air.
Pain knifed into my left side, momentarily numbing my body before returning with a blazing vengeance. I cried out as I crashed into Zia. We hit the grey-speckled carpet hard. Damn, my side hurt. I’d never been shot with pulser fire before. The shock of the burn made my eyes water and my stomach heave. But we had no time to nurse wounds.
“Come on.” On my knees with adrenaline rushing through my veins, I curled my fists in her coat, ready to drag her to her feet as I glanced back to see how close to death we were.
Some stalwart citizen had taken Connor down. The driver lay on the floor, arms behind hi
s back. He lifted his head, glaring at me while a blue-and-gold-clad Station security guard ran over to them, shouting into his comm.
I relaxed my grip on Zia’s coat and sent a silent prayer to the god of fools and felons. Holding my hand to my burning side, I turned back to her. “Come on, we have to go.”
Beneath a loose tendril of hair her eyes were closed. Her gold chain had slipped from beneath the neckline of her dress; the threaded ring rested on her breast like a target. She didn’t move, didn’t seem to be breathing.
“Zia?” I brushed the hair aside and touched her cheek with my fingertips. My hands shook as I felt for a pulse at her throat. No no no no no.
“Medic! We need a medic here!” someone yelled. It might have been me.
I opened Zia’s coat, and the stench of burnt wool and flesh overpowered her jasmine scent. The smell seared my nostrils, burned into my brain, brought acid into my throat. The right side of her coat and sensible plum-colored dress were scorched from hip to just under her arm. Ragged shreds of the charred material revealed blackened and angry red flesh.
I lifted my head and glared at the nearest person. “I need a fucking medic!” I cupped Zia’s cheek in my hand and leaned down to press my lips against her ear. With each breath, my chest tightened. “Don’t die, please don’t die,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
Someone grasped my upper arm and tried to pull me up. “Come on.”
I jerked out of his hand. “Don’t touch me.”
“Liv.”
Tonio.
My head snapped toward him. His dusky face was pale, lined with concern. “Come on. We have to go.” His eyes darted to Zia, to her wound—he winced—then back to me. “They’ll help her. We have to go.”
He reached out again and I twisted away from his grasp. “I won’t leave her.”
“Out of the way,” someone called. “Coming through. Medics coming through.”
Two people in red coveralls pushed past the few spectators and knelt down by Zia.
“Please step aside, ma’am,” one said as he flipped open his pack and began extracting equipment.
I gave him room but didn’t rise. Tears blurred my vision. Don’t die don’t die don’t die.
“Liv,” Tonio said gently, his hand on my arm, “let them do their job so they can save her.”
“Christ,” one of the medics muttered, “this is a bad one.”
If they can save her, that bastard of a voice in my head whispered.
“I can’t leave her.” I tried to jerk out of Tonio’s grip but he held fast. I glared at him as he crouched beside me. “Let me go.”
Tonio put his mouth near my ear. His voice was low so only I’d hear him, but the words hit my brain like a shout. “Willem has Sabine. He’s going to kill her if we don’t get him the files right now.”
My heart stumbled. Our eyes met. Tonio wasn’t just saying that to get me away from Zia. He wouldn’t have been so heartless. I believed him. Believed Willem would kill my mother for the information I had.
“Here.” I fumbled in my satchel, searching blindly for the data stick. “Bring it to him.”
Tonio shook his head. “He wants both of us. Now.” He started to rise, taking me with him.
“No.” I resisted, my eyes on Zia. I couldn’t leave her like this, abandon her when she needed me here. I’d betrayed her once. I couldn’t do it again.
He leaned down and whispered fiercely, “You can’t help her now. If you stay, if security grabs you to make a statement, Sabine will die.”
My teeth ground together. Fury burned in my throat and throbbed in my head. I opened my mouth to lay into him but stopped as a small glint of logic cut through my brain.
He was right. I had to let them do their job. There was nothing I could do for Zia now—I’d done too much to her already. Her life was in the hands of others. Now I had to do what I could to save my mother.
I brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and touched my lips to her ashen skin. My tears fell in her hair, my heart breaking. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Keeping my gaze on Zia’s face for as long as I could, I let Tonio ease me to my feet. One of the medics gave a small nod, appreciating the extra room to work as their hands flew over her body and they exchanged information with the hospital on the other end of their comm link.
Tonio wrapped an arm around my waist, his fingers brushing my aching side. We melted into the crowding spectators to avoid security. I grimaced, but the pain there was nothing compared to how the rest of me felt. Each hobbled step was more agonizing than the last. We stopped long enough for Tonio to lift my foot. He snapped off the other heel and pocketed it.
We separated ourselves from the onlookers and walked casually down the corridor in the same direction Connor had been forcing Zia and me.
The two-toned siren of the ambu-car grew louder as it arrived from the main terminal. Pain knotted in my chest and a sob escaped my throat as I pivoted, needing to go back, but Tonio drew me closer.
“You can’t, Liv. You can’t.”
That brutal truth forced another sob, and I turned away from her.
Chapter Nineteen
Tonio shoved open the door accessing the stairs to the parking level. Grasping my hand as if he expected me to bolt, he led me into the depths of the Station. Our footfalls echoed off the cold, grey concrete walls and steps. Two flights down another door led to the dank underground lot. Banks of lights illuminated most of the area, except for pockets of deep shadows that anchored long rows of cars.
Connor could have easily found a blind spot in the security cameras and killed Zia and me among those shadows. The thought of Zia possibly dying or already dead twisted my gut and made me stumble.
Tonio grabbed my arm to keep me upright. “You okay?”
A sob building in my chest threatened to blow open my tenuous defenses. I could only nod a lie, not trusting my voice. I wasn’t okay. How could I be? If I let myself think about Zia, I’d be paralyzed with fear and worry. Tonio needed me functioning. Sabine needed me functioning. I couldn’t let them down, not like I’d let Zia down.
I forced the events in the Station into their own compartment, locking them up until I had the time and courage to face them. Put it away, Liv. If ever you had the need to just make the job the job, now is it.
Taking several deep breaths, I wrestled the mental door closed. This was why felon’s Rule Number One existed. Attachment to the people you were deceiving made it hurt like hell when things went belly-up. And this job couldn’t have gone worse.
Tonio turned his head this way and that, searching among the cars. Shuffling along beside him in uneven heels made my side hurt, but it was little more than a surface burn. I’d live. In the middle of a row we stopped at an older model ground car. Tonio released my hand. I slumped against the rear fender, my head and side throbbing.
He withdrew a thin, metallic card from his jacket pocket. “Give me a minute.”
I caught a glimpse of a screen before he held it beside the door lock mechanism. Watching him work gave me something to focus on.
“What is that?” My voice sounded oddly distant, like it was coming from the other end of the garage.
He concentrated on the card as he tapped the screen. “A piece of nostalgia from my wild and woolly youth.”
Back in the day, well before I met him, Tonio and his crew cobbled together devices and jacked cars for fun or profit or as getaway vehicles for petty jobs. Newer models had better security systems, making the homegrown electronic jackers obsolete. Apparently there were enough old clunkers on Nevarro to justify hanging onto the gadgets.
“What if you hadn’t found the right kind of car?” I asked.
He glanced down at my feet. “Running was out of the question, so we’d have resorted to Plan B.” His eyes met mine and he gave me a wry smile. “Or maybe Plan C.”
I managed a halfhearted smile of my own. Even when I screwed things up, Tonio had a Plan B and C.
>
A series of soft clicks sounded within the door. He opened it, the hinges protesting loudly. “Get in.”
I climbed across the driver’s seat to the passenger’s side. Cold synthetic leather crackled beneath my weight. Shivering, I hugged my knees to my chest.
Tonio sat, yanked on the door twice before getting it to shut then held the jacker to the steering column. “Two more minutes, and we’ll be gone.”
“Where does Willem want to meet?” That’s it, stay on the job. It’s the only way you’ll make it through this.
Tonio flicked a glance at me and back to the device. The movement was too quick for me to read his eyes, but the strain lines around his mouth made me think he was wondering if I was about to fall apart on him. “The roof of our apartment building.” He tapped the metallic card.
“How did he know I had the files?”
Tonio didn’t answer for several seconds. “I told him.”
I nodded, staring out the window. Of course he would have told Willem. What else could he have done?
The car engine sputtered, coughed then settled into a loud hum interrupted by an occasional mewling. Tonio pocketed the jacker and worked the controls to start out of the lot. The sounds of early morning traffic blurred into a cacophony of meaningless noise.
“Willem called right after I talked to you. He got tired of waiting and knew you’d gone back out last night.” Tonio glanced down at my attire. “Dressed the way you are, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what you were up to.”
I didn’t want to think about that either. The betrayal on Zia’s face when she figured out why I’d slept with her would haunt me forever.
“He wanted to know where you were,” he continued, “why it was taking you so long. I tried to stall, told him you were on your way, but he wasn’t biting.” Tonio ran a hand over his morning stubble. “He was at Sabine’s hotel room.”
