Voices got louder as others started to question Niall’s plan. Arden couldn’t help but catch Colin’s pained look.
Niall’s voice rose over the room’s chatter. “VitD will eventually be delivered through another supplier from another city. These things self-regulate.”
Shipping it in, after they found another city with a surplus, would take time. There wasn’t a lot of travel between the cities or a guarantee that another pharma could make excess VitD to supply them.
“And if it doesn’t get here in time?” Arden asked.
“At least it would take out one or more of the Solizen families.”
People were going to needlessly suffer and die, for what? Greed? If she let this injustice continue, could she really live with herself?
“That’s a big gamble,” she said. “Especially with innocent lives.”
“It’s for the greater good,” Niall said.
Arden’s mouth hung open. Really? When had human life become so easy for Niall to extinguish? And yet, the tide of the room had shifted, the group actively nodding at Niall’s statement. Her breath felt tight in her chest. “What if the Solizen fight back? Even if the govies don’t join the fight, we can’t hold out against all the families if they band together.”
Niall’s expression turned feral. “Why would they? We’ve already destroyed one family. Their Tower sits in ruins. None of the other families came to their rescue, so there’s no reason to think they’ll stand behind one another now. Their weakness is in their inability to work together.” He addressed the whole room then, pausing for dramatic effect. “We are united. Anything that comes against us will be crushed.”
The room cheered.
Niall paused for the praise, then added more loudly, “If we ever want to have freedom, we need to level the playing field. There can no longer be castes among us. We all deserve to feel the sun on our skin. It shouldn’t be reserved for the wealthy.”
Arden couldn’t argue with that.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I want to speak with you before you avoid me for another week,” Niall said. He’d cornered her as soon as the meeting had ended. Arden had tried to slip out, but he’d caught her and pulled her to the back corner of the room.
She’d expected it, yet she didn’t hide her annoyance. Every bit of anger and resentment she’d let fester quickly rose up. She focused it all on him. Arden turned her back to the room and gave him a death glare. “What do you want?”
“I need you to do the club business tonight. I have a personal run,” Niall said. Close up, he looked worse than she’d realized. Stress lined his face, and his hands shook. In another few weeks, he’d probably smoke himself into a coma.
“I’m not a dealer. You promised I didn’t have to do that anymore.” They’d negotiated her stepping away from direct sales. She’d had to do a lot of shady things to get that concession. If Niall couldn’t be trusted to keep his word, Arden wouldn’t play nice.
Niall shrugged. “That was then, this is now. I need you.”
“So that means that I’m at your beck and call?” She folded her arms over her chest. “No way, Niall, try again. This is my night off.”
“No one’s stopping you from partying. Sell and play at the same time. It’s not like I’m asking for something impossible.” Niall looked around the room, the tap-tap-tap of his fingers against his pants distracting her. Then he turned his glazed eyes back on her. “And it’s not like you haven’t done it before.”
Arden spoke through her clenched teeth. “I’m not doing it.”
“If they want to get high, why do you care?” Niall scowled, his face coming close to hers. “You act like you’re better than us. No one wants your judgment.”
His unspoken “especially me” was loudly received. Well, too bad. She had to live with herself. It was one thing if adults wanted to get high. She didn’t mind selling to them, kind of understood the need for the escape it offered. The addicted kids were a whole other matter. Seeing it firsthand tore at her soul a little more every day. But what did he care? He was as addicted as they were.
None of that mattered, though. He’d promised her, and he had to keep his promises. Otherwise how could she trust him? Arden squared herself, ready for a fight. “No.”
“I don’t understand how you can separate the business into compact boxes in your head. It all fits under the same umbrella. Selling to the tweenies makes us cash. It’s how we survive. It’s not our fault if they get hooked. No one forces them to use.” Niall’s expression hardened. “Be a team player.”
He had a way of making her feel guilty. Not on his account—he was mostly a jerk who’d caused his own problems—but for everyone else whose lives hung in the balance of his decisions. She wouldn’t see them burn because he was too macho to admit he didn’t know what the hell he was doing with the gang. Or with their parents for that matter. He’d gotten them addicted to Shine to keep the pain of Violet Death at bay. Destruction followed Niall.
She shook her head, wanting to argue some more, though she knew that it would be pointless. At the end of the day, he was the boss. He’d force her to comply.
He came to the same conclusion. “Enough, Arden. It makes me look weak when my sister gives me as much crap as you do. You know what will happen if I’m challenged for leadership? Do you want that?”
They’d kill him. Of course she didn’t want that. And he’d kill her if it saved him. Neither option was an outcome she wanted. Especially the second one.
“Fine,” she agreed, wanting to get away from him. “I’ll do your dirty work.”
But she didn’t have to feel good about it.
CHAPTER SIX
Dade walked into the space they were using for the photo shoot. Someone had snagged an empty apartment in the Upper Levels, a surprising find since there was rarely a vacant location in the city. Probably it had been rented, the occupants paid handsomely to move their stuff out for the day.
There were people inside, standing around when he walked in. They all stopped what they were doing and stared. While that was unfortunately normal, it made Dade uncomfortable.
The dressers descended on him with grasping hands. They ripped his clothing from his body before he could get behind a changing screen. It made him feel violated, a feeling he often associated with his social responsibilities. He had little say over most aspects of his life, and that often included simple things like dressing himself.
When they finally deemed him acceptable, they showed him to a seat at the hair-and-makeup table that had been set up in one corner of the living room.
Clarissa was already at the table, lounging in a chair and looking as amazing as always. She smoothed her clothes with an absent brush of her hand. She wore a long bright-pink-and-orange silk robe, the front opened to her navel and showing off lots of tanned skin, while the back fell into a long bustled train. A fuchsia synth-silk tie wrapped around her waist. Beneath it all she wore synth-leather pants, displayed by a split in front.
Absent was the phaser she usually kept strapped to her thigh. She probably still had knives tucked into her boots, though. It was an assumption he could safely make because she was as devoted to her weapons as she was to her friends. He was sure that her missing weapons wouldn’t be too far away, just as his had been left with Saben nearby.
He tugged at his neck band. They’d dressed him in a charcoal tunic with a high collar that reminded him of a noose. The outfit was heavily embroidered with silver ivy leaves that made him itch. Thick chains looped his neck, heavily pressing against his sternum while jewels glittered on every finger. The ensemble was ostentatious and ridiculous, and it looked nothing at all like his normal clothes.
Clarissa blinked one spidery eyelid open to inspect him. Her voice sounded like thick gravel in dark syrup when she said, “You should wear that tonight, you look hot.”
He appraised himself and couldn’t imagine endless hours dressed in this horror. “I look like I stepped off a fashion runway.
A really gaudy one.”
“Which makes it perfect. I’m sure your mother will have nothing negative to say about it for once.”
Dade silently agreed that would be a plus. The ziptext he’d received from his father had required Dade’s presence at his hosted dinner that evening. Coupled with specifics about formal dress, behavior, and expectations, the message held the promise of a long, regrettable evening.
The hairdresser went to work on his hair, while the makeup woman finished with Clarissa and switched to Dade. He hated wearing cosmetics. It made his face feel as if layers of weird clay were sitting on top. The feeling was different than wearing a synth-mask, which was so thin, he almost forgot it was there.
“I don’t want to go tonight,” he groaned. “We need to figure out an excuse to skip it.”
“No way, I’ve got plans, and you have to help me.”
Caution made Dade slow to reply. “With what?”
Clarissa looked at him from under the thick fringe of her bangs where they cut straight across her forehead in an unwavering line. Her eyes glittered, and her lip twisted at the corner fractionally, warning that he wouldn’t like what she was about to say. Yet her glossy red lips stayed sealed.
The women finished with his makeup and hair. Clarissa waited until they’d packed up their things and walked away before she leaned toward him. “You know I wouldn’t ask you for a favor if I didn’t really need it. And in this case, it benefits you too. It’s a win-win.”
Groaning, he made a “get on with it” gesture. She was already selling him the outcome without divulging her plan. Never a good sign. “What horrible idea are we enacting for this evening’s entertainment?”
“I need to tag Chief Nakomzer.” By “tag,” Clarissa meant that she needed some kind of device planted without the chief’s knowledge.
“Of course you do,” he said with a sigh. Tag the head of the govies in front of his family and hers, as well as any number of politically involved Solizen. They might as well hang a sign saying that they wanted to be caught and charged with treason.
He didn’t bother asking why. She would tell him, but then he’d have to get involved in her plotting. To be honest, his own conspiracies were enough. He didn’t also need to worry about hers. The unspoken tenet of their relationship was: “Help when requested, keep your mouth shut otherwise, and don’t ask questions.” It had been that way since they were kids. There was no reason to change it now, even if this might get him arrested.
“He’ll be there tonight,” she confirmed, then gave him a sly look. “I’ll take care of him, but I need you to tag Sophia.”
“No way.” He considered Nakomzer’s assistant to be a monster, and she hated him equally.
“I won’t be able to get near her, not like I can with Nakomzer. You, on the other hand . . .” She bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “She likes you.”
Dade gagged. “Stop.”
Clarissa clapped her hands together in delight. “Fine, she hates you enough that she’ll ignore you, which makes you perfect for the job.”
He couldn’t help but admire her enthusiasm. Dade was decisive about things, but he didn’t have quite as much fun. She enjoyed everything about the destruction of social order.
The photographer walked over, interrupting their conversation. He stopped in front of them, looking them over critically, as if they were a painting or a work of art. His hands pressed together in front of his mouth as though he were in prayer as he stared at them.
The entire process was extremely uncomfortable. Dade didn’t know if he should say something. Wasn’t that common courtesy?
The scrutiny didn’t seem to bother Clarissa. If anything, she slipped easily into her society persona, the one that was perpetually bored with everything.
“Yes, this I can work with,” the photographer finally said, more to himself than to them, and then he hummed a little happy sound under his breath. His accent was heavy, he was obviously from another of the planet cities, and the dark skin of his bald head reflected in the harsh overhead lights. “You are such a lovely engaged couple. I’m going to make you look amazing.”
Clarissa gave the photographer a dazzling smile. “We’re so pleased you were available. When I heard you might not be in the city, I didn’t know what we’d do.”
“Who else could take these pictures but me?” he agreed, clearly pleased with the praise. He stepped forward to grip her hand, giving it a squeeze as he pulled her from the chair.
“No one, of course.” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm as they walked through the apartment toward one of the bedrooms where the set had been constructed.
Dade inspected himself one last time in the mirror. He looked ridiculous, rich, vapid, with way too much money and zero common sense. It was probably exactly the look they wanted. Dade sighed, getting up out of the chair to follow.
When he reached Clarissa and the photographer, they had stopped in the middle of what had once been an empty bedroom. They had their heads together while they discussed poses. The photographer gestured with his hands. Dade didn’t know the guy’s name or his work. With the way Clarissa was cooing, Dade supposed he was famous.
Dade stopped at the edge of the bright lights. He didn’t know where to look first. At the red walls that reflected an unattractive glare, the gold-painted chairs that screamed gaudy and uncomfortable, or the random colored throw pillows stacked up in piles.
Clarissa beckoned him over. She patted his back reassuringly as the photographer described his vision.
But honestly, the whole thing gave Dade a headache. He nodded where appropriate and was thankful when the crew piled into the room and business finally got under way.
The photographer directed them. “Hips together.” His hands gently steered them closer. “Wrap your arm around her back,” he instructed Dade, then placed Dade’s other hand on Clarissa’s waist.
They knew what they were supposed to do. How they were supposed to act in public. So it wasn’t a big deal to stand close together now and act like a couple.
Clarissa leaned into the pose. Her hands found the exact spot on Dade’s chest that the photographer wanted, because he began to murmur, “Yes, exactly that.”
Then the photographer stepped back to look them over with a wider view. He made a pleased noise while taking the camera from his assistant. “Okay, kids, forget the camera. Focus on each other. Let your love ooze.”
Forgetting the cameras would be next to impossible. And oozing love? That sounded like an industrial accident. Plus, Dade didn’t know how to pretend he was in love with Clarissa in the first place. He figured that if he wasn’t frowning, that would be good enough.
Awkward did not begin to describe the next few minutes. The lights were hot. He felt the caked-on makeup melting off his face. The popping of the flash blinded him with each click of the shutter. And the stares from the crew tightened his shoulders.
Clarissa, on the other hand, looked in her element. She twisted for the camera, parting her lips slightly so that her face appeared relaxed. She offered sultry expressions.
All while Dade moved robotically beside her.
It must have been bad, because the photographer lowered his camera and frowned. “Let’s try for a different look.”
When he turned to his assistant to discuss a new pose, or possibly how they could make Dade appear less awkward, Dade pulled Clarissa closer to whisper in her ear. “We keep putting this conversation off, and it’s obvious we can’t anymore.”
Clarissa let out a soft hiccup sound, as if she found him both ridiculous and adorable in one. “How do you propose to break our engagement now? It’s not officially a day old.”
“You keep reassuring me that we’ll take care of it before this goes too far.” He felt a little desperate. It was inevitable now. He couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. “You don’t think this is too far? Because I think we’ve stepped over the line.”
She gave him a sidelong look. “Yo
u knew we couldn’t negotiate the contracts forever. They were going to eventually agree to the terms, and then we’d have to announce the engagement. This was the natural progression of things.”
Dade scowled. She was being deliberately indifferent, and he didn’t know why. It should have never come to this. They shouldn’t have let themselves be bullied into this relationship in the first place. Once the momentum of their parents’ schemes caught, it became too complicated to untangle.
“You promised we’d take care of it by now,” he said.
“No, I said we’d figure it out.”
He let out a surprised whoosh of air, and his eyebrows shot up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“They’re not going to let us out of this easily,” she said dryly. “Especially now that they’re making it public.”
“Which is why we should have stopped it months ago.”
“How do you propose we could have done that? Our hands were tied then just as much as they are now.” As she’d spoken, Clarissa’s shoulder’s tightened, and she’d leaned into his space. When he didn’t back down, she let out a sigh, her body deflating in frustration. “You’re not looking at this logically. We should consider going forward with the wedding. At the very least, ending our engagement right now is wrong for us in the long run. We work better as a team.”
The suggestion startled him. He’d assumed she was with him on this. After all, they’d spoken about it nonstop since the idea of their marriage had been presented by their parents as a way to unify their families, and thus their businesses. But now as he thought back over those conversations, he realized he had been obsessed about fixing the situation while she’d been silent.
So yes, it was disconcerting that she’d want to continue with the farce, yet he should have realized she’d intended this all along. Clarissa was an expert at manipulating circumstances to best fit her. She’d simply postponed dealing with it. That should have been his first clue.
The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Page 4
