Arden closed her eyes and squeezed them hard. Then she let out her breath, forcing herself to relax before she typed: We’ll be slaughtered.
He replied: We can’t lose this window. They’re grieving as well. And they’ll be too focused on the wedding to anticipate our move.
Her hands shook as she typed. Wedding?
He responded: The Croix heir is marrying his fiancée in the morning. It’s all over the visicast.
What? That couldn’t be true. Her stomach cramped.
Arden’s first reaction was to deny. To insist the information was a lie. Then her rational brain kicked in. She shut down the ziptext program and pulled up the current visicast stream.
A picture of Dade and that girl took up the screen. Their bodies were entwined. The girl smiled up at Dade, looking radiant. Arden couldn’t hear the newscast because it was muted, but the ticker feed ran the latest wedding gossip as well as a countdown to the nuptials.
Arden felt faint.
This was what he was hiding when he looked so guilty and sad? Why hadn’t he told her? Why didn’t he ask her for help?
Arden could have kicked her own ass.
She’d chosen wrong. She knew that now. She should have chosen Dade and not continued with Lasair. Maybe then she’d have Dade, and perhaps even Colin would still be alive. She needed to choose him now. There was no way she was going to let this farce happen. Not if she could stop it first.
And stop it she would.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Everything was going according to plan until it wasn’t.
Dade needed to die. It was the only way to get out of a marriage he didn’t want and to sever ties with his family. He couldn’t simply leave. His father would never let him go, especially now that Rylick was dead. He didn’t have many options left, and time was slipping away too quickly for him to come up with a less drastic plan. Dying would be the only way to gain his independence.
Thankfully, he had friends willing to help. Number one being his fiancée-turned-reluctant-witness-to-his-death.
“This is not a good idea,” Clarissa said. She had dressed for the scene in an outfit she could move fast in: purple synth-leather pants and an oversized white sweater that hit her midthigh, the fabric woven with repelling phase-fire fiber. It shimmered with a pearlescent sheen as she moved. Gold-colored metal panels had been threaded through the weave, creating the appearance of scales and adding yet another layer of protection.
“It’ll work,” Dade said, trying to reassure himself as much as her.
Clarissa made sure her guards were some distance back before she grabbed Dade by the elbow, dragging him into a quiet space between buildings. Clarissa’s breath misted in the cool early-evening air as she leaned in to speak. “Maybe I need to break it down for you: this idea is ridiculous.”
“What else would you suggest?”
She shrugged.
“Exactly.” If there were another way, he’d take it. It wasn’t like he relished living the life of a fugitive. It was simply the better option.
They’d chosen one of the high-end shopping strips that Clarissa favored for their plan. Dade had accompanied her there from time to time, so this outing wasn’t unusual. And more important, as long as he was with Clarissa and her guards, his father had let him out of the Tower.
His hands were weighed down with her bags while pap-drones buzzed around to get a picture of them on the eve of their wedding. Dade couldn’t see them, but he knew they were using long lenses to capture any juicy tidbit for their vid-rags.
“I don’t get why the Ghost needs to kill you,” she said. “What’s the point of that? It could just be a random mugging. That would work too.”
He didn’t want to go over it again. “I almost got caught, and I know my father suspects me. Now that Rylick is dead, he’s not let me out of his sight. It’s limiting the Ghost’s activities to the point that I haven’t been on a run in weeks. Plus, there’s no other way to get out of our marriage.”
“The marriage thing,” Clarissa made a frustrated sound and an equally frustrated face, “we could make it work, you know. We’re an amazing team.”
“We are,” he agreed. “But I’d have to give up everything else, including the Ghost. What would I have to live for?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged.
“If I’m dead, they won’t suspect me. It’s the perfect plan.”
“Your life wouldn’t be over if you married me. We could figure something out.”
He felt bad at the hurt in her voice. Of course it wasn’t her. He wasn’t in love with her, but he certainly loved her. He could trust her with his life, and the last thing Dade wanted was to insult her. He tried to steer the conversation back to what concerned him the most. He knew that eventually she’d realize that this plan wasn’t a slight to her and she would forgive him. “People need the Ghost. It’s not just about the drugs or saving one person at a time. It’s a movement. It’s bigger than me.”
“If the Ghost is so important, let someone else do it,” she said. “Come back to the Sky Towers, we’ll get married, and we’ll work from the inside. It’s as good a plan as any, and it makes more sense.”
“It’s already happening. I can’t stop it.” While Dade didn’t like the idea of exposing the Ghost to public scrutiny, it made the identity real. To get things done, he knew the Ghost had to be more than a myth. He had to be seen as a champion of the people.
They fell into a tense silence. Dade fidgeted, his gaze drifting over the crowded streets as he checked face after face.
“Don’t act like you’re waiting for him,” Clarissa warned.
He looked back at Clarissa in time to see her roll her eyes. “I’m not.”
“That’s exactly what you were doing.” She let out a long sigh, her red lips puckering. “You know better than that.”
And he did. He hated that she was right, so he forced himself to show some contrition. He transferred all the shopping bags to one arm, and then reached out to take her hand. If this was the last time he would see Clarissa, he didn’t want to end their friendship with a fight. “I’m sorry.”
He meant that for more than just the arguing. He meant for everything: for putting her in that position, for the fact that he wasn’t choosing her, and that he’d miss her.
She understood, her face going soft. Then she gave him an impish grin. “Relax, you’re only going to die.”
Dade snickered.
“Come on, then,” she said, tugging on his hand. “Let’s get this over with.”
They left their alcove. Clarissa wound her arm through his, leaning into him as they crossed the plaza via the skyway to the other side of the concourse. She chatted the whole time, keeping up a one-sided conversation with laughter in her voice, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. As if things were normal.
Dade walked beside her, trying to engage and look carefree as well, but too much tension was coiled inside. Feeling the gaze and whispers of shoppers as they walked past, he realized he was too famous to hide without a mask. It left him feeling exposed and vulnerable, raw in a way he couldn’t express. He looked forward to a life of anonymity.
Clarissa leaned in to reassure him, her mouth brushing his cheek like a lover. “It’s almost over.”
Dade kissed the top of her head. He hadn’t yet allowed himself to acknowledge that these were the last few minutes he’d ever spend with her. His heart twisted as he thought the same of Saben. Clarissa and Saben always had his back. He never imagined the possibility that he’d have to give up either of them.
“I hope this girl’s worth it,” she said.
“She is.” But he knew he wasn’t doing this for Arden. He was doing this for himself. He was willing to sacrifice anything for his freedom.
Saben stepped from the shadows dressed as the Ghost. He boldly stood in the open long enough to attract attention. He didn’t resemble Dade in any way. Saben was much larger and his skin darker. They’d had to
get a bit creative to make the switch look passable. It wouldn’t fool anyone who’d met Dade as the Ghost, but all they needed to do was to trick the city-grid cams and gossip-vids. It helped that there hadn’t been a clear picture of the Ghost yet. Dade felt they’d be able to get away with it. Afterward, any difference in size would hopefully confuse the situation more.
Dade’s hand slipped from Clarissa’s, and the bags in his other hand dropped.
Their plan was simple: The Ghost was a shadow vigilante his father wanted to take out. Dade would confront him, then chase him when he ran. They wouldn’t have to speak, which was a bonus, because Dade wasn’t sure how good an actor he was. Especially when he knew cameras were on him. He’d die—a fake death, of course—and that would allow him to get away from his family. Then Dade could assume the mantle of the Ghost full-time.
Dade froze at the exact moment he needed to move. His mind screamed questions at him: Was he really going to give up everything? He could stop this, right now.
“Dade,” Clarissa said, letting out a breathy sigh, “go.”
He gave Clarissa a blinding smile of thanks, adding a silent goodbye. Then he jumped into action, running after Saben. Saben was fast, as Dade had known he would be, melting into the shadows for a few seconds before bursting onto the crowded streets. Dade struggled to keep up. Not because he wasn’t capable, but he’d never run full throttle through a crowd before. They weren’t as accommodating as he’d thought they’d be. The crowd pushed back, bumping shoulders and sending elbows to his stomach. They shouted encouragement for the Ghost, making sure to keep Saben’s exit cleared. Some spat at Dade and called out crass suggestions of what he could do to himself as they crowded in front of him, creating a barrier. The tide of them pulled, keeping Dade from making forward progress.
He’d never be able to manage a clean shot at Saben here. He needed to control the phaser. His intention wasn’t to hurt Saben. And vice versa. Though in the end, Saben had to make it look as if Dade took a kill shot.
Saben must have had the same thought. He jumped onto a railing and swung his way up to Level Six, then leapt to his feet and continued to run.
Dade grunted as he hit the same railing. It creaked and groaned, coming loose from the wall as he climbed his way onto it. He tucked his legs, using them to launch himself up, grabbing hold of the upper deck and pulling himself onto the next Level.
Unfortunately, there was a large construction project on Level Six that hadn’t been considered when they’d devised this plan. The walkways were torn to pieces with temporary paths made of metal disks. He followed Saben through the maze. They ran beneath and through the scaffolding that had been placed against the building, jumping over the larger holes and sliding across construction equipment.
Dade pulled out his phaser and shot. The ground beneath him shifted as he pulled the trigger, causing his phase-fire to go off course. He dropped low to correct his center of gravity just as Saben shot over his head. They traded volley shots, some coming close, others going wide. Dade felt the heat as they passed by, instinctively ducking away from the burn.
Saben had put some distance between them. He moved through the construction with graceful movements in spite of his muscular bulk. His size didn’t hinder him at all. Dade envied him. Though he worked out with Saben every day and could keep up, he had no practical experience scrambling over objects or being in a real phase-fight.
They were running too much, shooting too wide. Dade was supposed to “catch” a blast and die. He kept waiting for the right moment, but it never seemed to happen. It was too crazy here. They were close enough together for the shot to look viable, but the rigging was too complicated, and the beams they stood on were too precarious for Dade to safely fake his death. He’d likely kill himself for real.
It had become performance art, and he wasn’t an actor. Yet he had to make it look good for the cameras. That was stressful enough. Add to that the plan wasn’t working. He was attracting too much attention from the crowd. They hated him, which was good in a way, but hindered him from completing his goal. Eventually they’d attract even more attention of the sort they didn’t want.
Saben stopped, his path forward blocked by a gaping hole in the skyway. On the other side was a large pileup of construction equipment, making it impossible for him to jump across even if the distance had been shorter.
Dade slowed, unsure whether to confront Saben or back off. He didn’t think that Saben could make that big a leap, and it wasn’t like he could very well turn around and come back at Dade. Though Dade wondered if that was exactly what Saben was going to do. He shifted back a few steps, scanning the area. It was the wrong place to have the final duel. He couldn’t fake his death here. There was no place where he could make the death look real.
Saben tucked his phaser into the back of his pants and took a running leap toward the hole in the skyway. There was a protracted moment as he flew, feet moving, hands reaching forward, suspended over the space, before he slapped against the bulk on the other side, barely making it across. His hand scrabbled on the concrete bricks, fingers digging and clawing to climb up the other side.
Staring in disbelief, Dade stood at the edge of the wide, empty space that stretched between them, taking a gulp of air as he looked down at the crowd gathered on the skyway below. Faces peered up at him with slack jaws and wide eyes. And then the pointing began. They definitely recognized them. So that part of the plan had worked.
He shot off another few rounds, knowing they’d land nowhere near Saben, who was now past the construction debris. Dade again assessed the vast gulf between where he stood and where he needed to be. Now that Saben had done the impossible, Dade had to follow. They wouldn’t get another opportunity at this. He groaned, while gathering his courage to mirror Saben’s insanity. His palms became slick with sweat, making it difficult to handle his phaser. The leap wasn’t going to get any easier the more he freaked over it.
Dade let out a long, frustrated breath and tucked his phaser at his waist. Then he backtracked a distance to get a running start and hurled himself through the air. As he flew, he became convinced he wouldn’t make it. The distance seemed too long, and his jump felt too short. He regretted the leap the second he left the platform, wishing that there’d been more momentum behind it.
He barely touched the far side. Dade let out a sound halfway between a scream and a grunt as his fingers caught and held. He must have broken a bone or two. He fell into the space between the worst pain he’d ever felt and encroaching numbness. His fingers scraped as he slid, rubbing flesh from his hands. His skin was raw and bleeding, and his hands wouldn’t respond when he mentally told them to move. He fought against the shaking. Didn’t want to give in to the numb feeling that would cause him to lose everything. He forced himself to hold on.
Dade dug in harder, desperation making him strong. He would not die like this. Not when he was so close to freedom. This was not how his life was meant to end.
Below him, people screamed. He heard their cries, though he forced himself not to give them his full attention. Neither would he look down. Forget about them, he told himself. Yet the noise rattled him, threatening to break his concentration.
Dade was too low to pull himself up with sheer will. He’d have to propel his body upward a few inches to catch a toehold. The slickness of the sweat and blood on his hands didn’t help with the traction as he clung. His shoulders burned and his muscles ached as he swung his feet in an effort to create momentum. When he gained enough speed, he let go, swinging upward a few inches. He caught on, gripping deep.
When he finally crested onto the other side, sweat dripped from his brow and his limbs were numb and shaky. Phase-fire whizzed by his cheek, the flare of the blast hot and bright, sending him sprawling onto the ground. He pulled his phaser from his waist and returned fire. His aim was unsteady, and the shot flew wild. His fingers had difficulty squeezing the trigger. The agonizing pain of moving the misplaced bones shocked his system
.
He pushed forward on his hands and knees, then got to his feet and began to chase Saben once again, though his heart wasn’t in it. Certainly his body was past the ability to fight. He was tired and aching and wished to be finished. To get to an area where they could follow through with their plan and end this charade.
Ahead, Saben ran into another blocked walkway, where a building had crumbled, its side spilling onto the street. Saben didn’t pause. He jumped onto a beam that projected out of the debris and stretched across the open sky across to the opposite skyway. It had been secured in place by several stabilizing cables.
As he ran, he shot one of the cables, detaching it from its mooring. As it swung out, he launched himself onto it, using it as a pendulum to swing across the expanse. He was graceful when he did it, holding his phaser in one hand and returning fire to Dade, his other arm and a leg wrapped around the cable to keep him steady.
Dade stumbled to a halt, letting out a staggering breath. No way. Perhaps they should have been clearer about the death-defying feats this chase would entail.
He made his way out onto the beam much slower than Saben had, perfectly aware of how crazy this was. Then he let that thought go and simply ran, pushing his body forward with as much momentum as he could, while his feet slid along the slick surface of the metal, unable to gain traction. He began to wobble too far to the right and threw his hands out to balance himself.
Saben chose that moment to shoot at him.
Dade ducked to avoid the blast, but that shifted his weight even more. His foot slid off the edge, his body falling after it. He moved his weight, centering his balance on the other foot in an attempt to stay on the beam. It left him swaying as he looked over the vast darkness of the static cloud below.
Slowly he brought his dangling foot onto the beam, leaning back into his other side while readjusting his weight. His heart hammered, fighting his instinct to lie down and hug whatever surface would keep him from falling. Sickness rolled his gut and burned through his chest, leaving him hollowed out and shaky.
The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Page 20
