Arden felt her cheeks heat. What could she say to that nonsense?
He leaned forward so that his lips skimmed the skin of her cheek. He pressed against it, a light caress, before he let his breath, warm and moist, tickle her. “Tell me you’ve thought about me.”
She wanted to deny it. Yet she found herself nodding, a slight movement that she halted as soon as she realized she was making it.
Arden felt, rather than saw, his smile as he brushed his mouth against her cheek once more.
“I like that,” he said. “I like that you think about me.”
He pressed his body more firmly against hers.
“Wait a second.” She placed her hands against his chest, rubbing a minute, before pushing him back half a step. “I need your help.”
His eyebrow rose. “You need my help.”
“Don’t be sarcastic.” Arden huffed, amused herself. “I need information, and I hope you can get it for me.”
He nodded slowly, while taking another step away. “I’ll help you if I can.”
She didn’t like his hesitation. Nor how he was putting distance between them.
It made her suspicious.
“That night at the club, a friend of mine was detained. I need to find out where the govies are holding her.”
He reacted to what she said, but not in the way she expected. Instead of vague interest, he registered horror. It set off alarm bells in her head.
“What do you know?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He gripped her upper arms, giving her a gentle squeeze. “I really don’t know where she’s being held.”
Arden made a frustrated sound. Stepping away from him, she turned toward the glass wall. “Before you said you’d help me. Are you going back on that?” She wasn’t really upset with him. She knew she was asking him to betray his family. Mostly she hadn’t stopped being angry with herself. Asking him to lay his neck on the line for someone he didn’t know was too much to presume despite whatever was growing between them.
Then she immediately felt irritated for giving him an out. This was her job, her responsibility. When had she started thinking of him as a person she cared for deeply and not as a Croix? She needed this information no matter what it cost him. Keep this up and she’d be on the verge of getting pinched by govies herself.
Arden gripped the railing, her fingers turning white.
“Perhaps it’s worse than you think,” he finally said, coming up behind her. He laid his hand on her lower back and began to rub soothing circles.
She turned again to face him, forcing him to step back while her hands went to grip the rails at her side. “What do you know?”
“Nothing of their plans,” he said. “But what I have heard is troubling. The govies have been given a directive to extract information in any way possible, including torture.”
Arden’s body tightened. They both knew that meant if the govies accidentally killed Mariah during the interrogation, they wouldn’t be held responsible. Which made it all the more imperative that she find Mariah right away.
He nodded. “I don’t know if I can find out where she’s being held. That kind of thing is not information that I can easily access.”
“You have to try,” she said. He was her only hope at this point for redemption regarding Mariah. She couldn’t accept a no.
Dade stared at her a long time. “I’ll call in some favors.”
“Promise me.”
“I’ll do my best,” he countered. “If the information can be sourced, I’ll get it for you.”
His words didn’t inspire Arden’s confidence.
Dade leaned in, his hands sliding around her waist. He nuzzled a spot under her ear before he whispered, “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find her.”
Arden liked the way he felt. It was comforting. Easy. Making it possible to forget her fears and to simply feel. She leaned into him.
“I know.” She trusted him. Had from the beginning, or she wouldn’t have risked everything to come here.
“I want to see you again, more than to give you the information. I want to spend more time with you. I’ll do whatever I need to make that happen.” He sighed into her hair, hugging her close. “It’s been too long since I last saw you. I hate not knowing when the next time is going to be.”
Arden closed her eyes, wishing the same thing. “Dade, it’s not a good idea. I thought we agreed to that.” But the way her voice trailed off was not convincing.
“Right. Well, you’ll need to contact me to get whatever information I find.” He’d pulled away enough for her to see his face. He looked sad. “It’s too risky for you to come here again, especially if I start investigating.”
“What do you suggest?”
“There’s a ticket station outside the transport grid on Level Four, just south of Washington Street. Do you know it?”
“Yes.”
“Outside is a set of benches. I’ll spray-paint a red halo on the back of one when I have information for you.”
That sounded easy enough to watch for. She knew a vid-camera in the area she could reposition and hack into in order to keep tabs. “Okay.”
“I’ll meet you at midnight in the West End Church the night I leave the signal,” he said. “There’s a back entrance halfway down the alley, marked by a blue cross. Knock twice. When the priest answers, tell him, ‘May the sun shine for all.’” He quoted the traditional greeting of the Lower Levels.
“He’ll know that I’ve sent you,” Dade said.
Questions flooded her mind. Why did he keep secret company with a priest? What exactly was he up to? Had it anything to do with his initial hesitation to help her? And yet she didn’t ask. He had offered to help her. That was all she needed from him. If she pressed too much, he might not get her what she wanted.
He could keep his secrets.
“Can I trust this priest?”
“With your life,” Dade said. “But understand that by coming into his church, you’re swearing to protect him should he ever ask.”
“Understood.” She fidgeted, looking around, then said, “I need to go.” Not really wanting to, but knowing that the longer she was here, the greater the likelihood of her getting caught.
“Not yet.”
He leaned down to place his mouth against hers. Kissing her in a way that tied her ever closer to him. Twisting her up inside. She wanted this.
Reality couldn’t be forgotten, though. Eventually she pulled away, her mouth wet and puffy. “When I’m with you, I feel as if I could touch the sky.”
“It’s the same for me.” He brushed his mouth against hers with teasing kisses. “Let’s not stop.”
Arden ran her hands over his shoulders to bring him flush against her, letting him deepen the kiss again. Allowing herself to float on the bliss that he stirred inside her.
Colin clicked in her ear, interrupting the moment. “Where are you? Your exit window was ten minutes ago.” Nervousness strained his voice. “Your failure to return to the lobby has been noted. There are two guards in the hallway.”
She pulled herself from Dade’s embrace. They stared at each other, a wealth of words in the silence.
Arden touched the mic. “Be ready for pickup.”
Colin sounded relieved when he answered. “Five minutes.”
She focused on Dade. “I’ll look for your signal.”
He nodded.
Then, before she could give in to her weakness to kiss him again—or worse, tell him how much she looked forward to seeing him—Arden turned and balanced on the railing. She danced to face Dade. Shaking off her uniform shirt, so that she could access the sky suit beneath.
Dade laughed. “Next time you’ll have to take me with you.”
“It’s a date.”
Arden lifted her arms, engaging the light wings attached to her back. They unfurled, and Arden clipped herself into the control cuffs around her wrists.
Then she fell backward into the purple sky, before she flipped to a dive, sliding the wings back to catch the current.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dade shifted from side to side, frustrated to be standing still so long. His legs had gone numb, and he really needed to use the restroom, his escape hampered by the bolt of white silk draped over his body that would become his bridal tunic. The back room piped in an excessive amount of heat for customers’ comfort. Only instead, it produced a sweltering atmosphere that was nearly unbearable, leaving Dade feeling bored, hot, and irritable. Not a good combination.
Plus, it didn’t make him any happier that the wedding plans were continuing, regardless of how he felt. He should have figured a way out of this mess by now. That he hadn’t yet done so had him focusing more on maintaining his temper and not snapping at innocent people than on using the time to work out his problems.
“Please, sir,” the clothier said around the pins jutting from his mouth. “You need to stay still.” He twitched the fabric at Dade’s feet, readjusting the hemline for the tenth time in as many minutes.
There was a disturbance in the shop beyond the thick draping. He couldn’t hear what the voices said, only that they were loud and animated. Then Clarissa breezed into the back room. Several shopping bags draped her arms, and a few more were woven through her fingers. Her hair had been slicked into a faux hawk, displaying glittering gems at her ears and throat.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” she said, offering a gorgeous smile.
Speak of the devil. Dade didn’t know if he should be pleased or irritated at her interruption. With her here, it would take much longer to get this appointment finished, but at least she could keep his mind off how uncomfortable he was. And he did need to speak with her.
“Miss, you’re not allowed back here,” the clothier said. “This is a gentlemen’s shop.”
“Nonsense. There’s nothing here I haven’t seen before. Do go on.” Clarissa made a little “continue” wave at him before she dropped off her bags in the seating area next to where Dade stood. Then she fell back onto the chaise with a dramatic, overly exhausted flourish.
The tailor looked extremely put out. He huffed and grumbled, and in doing so, spat out the pins from his mouth. Dade shifted to avoid them falling on his toes.
“It’s fine,” Dade told him. “She’ll leave in a moment.”
That seemed to make the clothier more disgruntled. Dade knew that it was difficult for someone to understand who wasn’t used to hurricane Clarissa. That she’d shown up, when he hadn’t been able to get ahold of her for several days, didn’t sit well with Dade either. Combined with her current theatrics, he was suspicious of why she had cornered him publicly.
Dade frowned into the mirror, adjusting the various parts of his tunic, and asked her, “Do you answer your pings?”
She raised a perfectly manicured, overlined eyebrow. “I’m here now, darling, and it’s nice to know you missed me.”
Dade focused back on his tunic, wanting to take the whole thing off and call it a day. “How did you find me? I don’t remember ziptexting you my schedule.”
“It wasn’t difficult. I saw the big hulk outside, and I know he never strays far from you.”
Saben. Of course.
Clarissa relaxed into her seat. Leaning back like the veritable princess in an ivory tower that she was. Even here, in the market district, she let her subjects attend to her. She sent him an exasperated look. “You’re in a mood.”
He was. And she didn’t deserve any of it. Dade turned back to pulling at his clothes again. “Sorry.”
She made a noise in the back of her throat like she didn’t believe his apology.
“Did the paparazzi follow you?” Dade asked. That was a complication he didn’t want to deal with today. He’d been very careful on his way over. The closer their wedding came, the more intrusive the paps became. It was a logistical nightmare that had gridlocked most of his business outings.
“Please. I could outrun the pap-vids before I was thirteen.”
“And yet you don’t.” He relaxed into their friendship, knowing that she wasn’t here to upset him. He felt agitated over the situation, not with her. “I thought you liked having your picture on the gossip sites.”
Clarissa shrugged. “It’s not bad. As long as it suits my purpose.” She paused, her tone changing subtly. “That is precisely what I’m here to speak with you about. I’ve come into possession of some halo-images I’d like you to see.”
“Why didn’t you upload them to my cloud?” Dade asked, confused.
“Because I don’t know who monitors your digi-stream.” Her eyebrow went up in a significant look.
Dade glanced at the man at his feet. His presence was nearly invisible, but Dade could tell that he was actively listening. Gossip about the two of them could fetch a high price on the open market. Anyone could sell him out.
He said to the clothier, “Could we have a moment, please?”
The man looked up from Dade’s feet, gathering the scattered pins into a pincushion. His attention shifted from Dade to Clarissa and back, and he did not appear happy. After a moment’s pause, he stood, offering a small bow to Dade. “Call when you’ve finished.”
Dade tipped his head. “Thank you.”
Clarissa’s bubbly personality fell away when the man left, replaced by a serious expression. She scowled, her red lips tipping down. She reached into her bag to extract a silencer: a pewter sphere, tiny enough to fit in the palm of her hand. She dropped her arm to the floor, sending the ball rolling to the center of the room. When it stopped, the two halves detached, still connected by a blue pulsing light. The high-pitched vibration the sphere emitted couldn’t be heard with human ears. Yet it would prevent any aux- or vid-tracks from being recorded within a twenty-foot radius.
“Don’t be upset that I sought you out,” she said. “I know you jealously guard your free time, but I wanted to keep this away from the Sky Towers.”
“I could have met you for coffee, where I’d be more appropriately clothed.”
“Finding you half-dressed doesn’t bother me at all.” Clarissa winked.
“Nice.” Dade glanced down to make sure that all his bits were covered before he stepped off the dais and walked across the room. The tacked pants moved roughly against his body, pulling at his legs. Reaching her, he sat down gingerly on the chaise, careful not to cause any more damage. “Did you at least get the information I needed?”
“The girl who was taken at the club?” she clarified. When he nodded, she said, “I can’t figure out why you’re interested in that.”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe.” She studied him. “The girl has become an issue. Everyone is talking about her, including the media. Though how they found out about her detainment is a mystery. Govies are usually more discreet, so it makes me think that there’s more going on than you’re telling me. If you’re going to use her for information in any way, you need to get in line.”
Dade pressed, “Where is she being held?”
Clarissa pulled her datapad from her purse. She tapped on it several times, then looked up. “I’ve sent you the encrypted file.”
“Thank you.”
She shrugged, then set the datapad in her lap and focused on him, taking his hand in hers. “A word of caution: If I were you, I’d let this go. Forget you have any business with the girl. They know she’s Lasair.”
“Who knows? The govies or the families?”
“Both,” Clarissa said. “The families want to steal her before the govies break her and make her completely useless. Which means you’re not the only one looking into her whereabouts. It’s too dangerous to break her out, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not going to break her out,” he said.
“Well, whatever you’re going to do, think twice before you move forward with it.”
“What does that mean?”
Clarissa gave a frustrated grumble, and th
en shot him a look so piercing, it made him pull back at the vehemence of it. “I’m not sure I trust you anymore.”
“What?” Confusion was followed immediately by exasperation. He rarely could follow her thought process, and this was one of the times he found that inability highly irritating. “How can you say that? We’re best friends.”
Her mouth pressed together. “Best friends who apparently keep secrets.”
“As if you don’t keep secrets from me.” Their relationship was built on loyalty, not honesty. “I’d never do anything to harm you.”
“I wonder if that’s true. The things you’re doing affect me greatly.” She let go of his hand and picked up her datapad once more. “As I said, I’ve come into possession of some interesting halo-images. I thought I’d share them with you.”
Dade felt his stomach sink. Numerous possibilities filtered through his head, none of them good. She knew something, and had known something for a while. But for her to press like this, whatever she was in possession of, made him worry.
The last few weeks played through in his mind:
Arden.
The club.
Undercity.
The kiss.
Her visit to the Sky Towers.
More kissing.
None of the things he wanted her to have images of. Any, or all, of them would earn her condemnation. Yet those things were tame compared to his other extracurricular activities. He forced himself to remain calm and waited.
Fiddling with the programs on her datapad, she opened an encrypted file with two sets of codes and a palm print. Then she turned the pad around, offering it to him. The first image confirmed his fears.
The photos were taken with a concealed camera. The images were extremely grainy with a green tinge to the black and white, indicating they were taken using infrared. It wasn’t the best setup to capture a clear picture, which made the subjects in them difficult to decipher.
At least, that would have been the case if the pictures hadn’t been of him.
There were four photos in total of him and Arden in the club. They were side and back shots, their features obscured by other dancers and from the nanotech haze of their masks, which was fortunate. Added to that, the strobes in the club had cut the images with light, further mangling their features.
The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Page 13
