Then there was the fifth and final picture. A straight shot of Dade wearing the Ghost’s mask. That was the money shot.
Even without a clear view of Dade’s face, what could be seen was the formal tunic from their engagement pictures. There would be no way to deny it. It would be obvious to anyone who knew him that Dade was the Ghost.
Not that he would deny this to Clarissa. She was way too smart for lies. He was more worried about the clear fact that he was cavorting with the enemy. The pressing issue became who else had seen these. He hoped that Clarissa had scrubbed off any digi-feed.
“You had me followed?” Dade asked.
“I never promised that I wouldn’t send someone to watch you.” She paused. “I admit I was surprised, and not much can shock me.”
“Just ask whatever it is you’re dying to know.”
“Fine.” Clarissa sat back, crossing her legs while regarding him like a specimen in a glass jar. “Let’s start with the girl.”
“It’s not a crime to meet someone in a club.”
Clarissa raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.
The reaction put Dade on the defensive. “She was pretty. I asked her to dance. So what? You knew I was meeting a girl.”
“You’re saying you didn’t know that she’s high on the food chain in Lasair?” Clarissa asked sarcastically.
He didn’t say that. Though he was surprised. He had already figured out Arden was part of the gang even if this confirmation of her position had him rethinking his strategy.
“You’re canoodling with Lasair, and then you’re asking me for information on the Lasair girl the govies caught? What do you expect me to think?” she said with exasperation.
Dade cleared his throat.
She held up her hand, stopping him. “Don’t bother lying. It’s insulting. Especially with how you’re acting.”
“How is that?” Dade asked, curious yet offended. He’d never realized he’d had the ability to feel both emotions at the same time.
“Shifty. Like you’re hiding something. You haven’t answered any of my questions.”
“Because you’re asking things I can’t answer.” Not truthfully anyway.
“Why are you protecting her?” she pressed.
Because he felt like Arden was his to protect. Thinking that while sitting next to his fiancée was insanity, he realized, yet he couldn’t help how he felt. He simply shook his head.
“Fine, you’re not going to talk about the girl,” she said. “Are you going to tell me about the other thing?”
“What other thing?”
She tilted her head and stared at him.
Dade forced himself not to speak. Not to make excuses or lies. Silence would have to do.
Eventually Clarissa took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and exhaled in a long sigh. “I’ve been tracking the Ghost for months, and when I finally get close enough, imagine my surprise when I see you. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“Don’t ask me about it.”
“I can’t help if you’re not honest,” she said.
“I don’t need help.”
“I know you don’t want help, you’ve made that abundantly clear. But you do need help.”
The curtains rustled before the tailor stepped back into the room. “Excuse me, there’s a gentleman here to see you. He says he’s Mr. Croix’s cousin.”
Clarissa slipped into her social persona, as if they hadn’t been discussing treason. “Thank you. Send him back.”
The tailor bowed and backed out of the room.
“Rylick’s here?” Dade asked.
“He asked me to meet him for lunch,” Clarissa said. “I pinged him my location as soon as I found you.”
“Lunch? I thought he annoyed you.”
“He does. But he ziptexted me last night, telling me he was working on something for your father and requested that we meet.” She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips.
“Interesting.” Dade frowned.
“I’d hoped you’d join us for lunch.”
Rylick swaggered into the room. He always looked like he owned the universe and expected everyone to stop and watch him. Even if the audience was less than impressed, as Dade was.
“Cousin,” Rylick greeted Dade before turning to Clarissa and kissing her on her cheeks. “I hate looking all over the city for you. I’m hungry.”
“Charming,” she said. “Dade’s decided to join us.”
Rylick frowned. “Very good. But for sun’s sake, can we eat now? A physique this amazing requires regular sustenance.”
Dade didn’t point out that he hadn’t decided any such thing. But then, gaining intel would be worth the price of having to endure Rylick’s presence. “Give me a moment to change.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Arden paced.
The church was empty at this time of night. She’d expected it to be locked up tight and was surprised to find the front doors open to visitors. A few stragglers had wandered in during the quarter hour she’d waited. One was in the prayer room and another had moved to the confessional box with Father Benedict.
She didn’t like feeling exposed on turf that wasn’t her own. Though she couldn’t fault Dade for wanting to meet here. The city cameras couldn’t reach inside church grounds, per numerous ordinances so wound into the infrastructure of their society that not even the government ignored them. Yet when she’d knocked on the back door and Father Benedict had ushered her in, she’d come to the realization that perhaps the priest was the real reason that Dade felt comfortable here.
Arden slid onto a stone pew near the front of the sanctuary as the confessional visitor left. She leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees and hung her head. Still, she couldn’t stop her foot from tapping with nervous energy.
This was ridiculous. He’d said midnight, and now it was going from the quarter hour to almost half past. Had he been discovered? Was their meeting compromised? Was he in trouble and needed help?
She checked her datapad to confirm the time. If he didn’t show in another ten minutes, she’d leave.
Arden hadn’t seen Dade in almost a week. She’d been far too busy dealing with the fallout from Mariah’s arrest. They hadn’t made any inroads into figuring out her location. Knowing that time was limited, Arden had sourced all of their contacts in case Dade didn’t come through. The hustling for leads had helped to keep her distance from Dade.
Because she’d been so focused on her work, she had been surprised and excited when she saw his signal. It made her realize how delicate her resolve actually was. The fluttering in her heart started the second she’d known she would see him again. It hadn’t lessened in the hours since. In fact, it had grown into a full-fledged storm.
Father Benedict stepped out of the far side of the confessional. She heard the soft clip of his shoes against the stone floor as he walked to the front of the church. He slipped into the pew next to her. He was dressed in drab brown robes, a yellow rope knotted about his generous middle. “You appear to be weighed down by your thoughts, my child.”
Arden considered him, sad for this man she didn’t know. Purple bruised his eyes. His nose was raw from continued leaking. Sores had started to creep up, at the base of his throat and spread over his hands. The sores would cover him soon, and then they’d break open, oozing pus. The later stages of Violet Death sucked.
She knew she couldn’t confide in Father Benedict, but there was no denying his assumption. “It’s just life, you know?”
Father Benedict had an aura of knowledge and calm peace about him. As if he understood more than what she was saying. He nodded and reached forward to pat her hand.
She relaxed into the bench a little more.
“He’ll be here shortly,” Father Benedict said. “Don’t worry. If he said he’d be here, I have every faith that he’ll show.”
“Is he usually late?” It didn’t seem like Dade. She would have expected him to be punctual.
“Not usually. But the
re have been times he’s run into trouble.”
That undid any calm she’d managed to achieve.
Father Benedict must have seen her shoulders tense, because he added kindly, “He’s never had a scrape he couldn’t get out of. He’ll be here.”
Arden frowned. Everyone had a final time when they didn’t make it. She considered Father Benedict’s words, though, and their intimacy spoke of a deep friendship with Dade, along with a softness akin to a familial bond. She’d also noticed that Father Benedict had never directly referred to Dade by name. To protect him, or for another reason, she wasn’t sure.
“Thank you for letting us meet here, Father.” Then curiosity made her ask, “Does he meet people here often?”
“You’re the first,” Father Benedict said. “He has spoken highly of you.”
She fought not to let the pleasure of that assurance show.
“He asked me to help, should you ever need anything,” Father Benedict continued. “Please don’t hesitate to find me. I’ll help you in any way that I can. And, of course, if you need to talk, I’m here to listen.” He sounded sincere, as if the love he felt for Dade somehow extended to her.
It was a tremendous offer that left her floundering. “Thank you.”
Father Benedict rose from the pew. He reached over to pat her shoulder. “There are a few things I must do now. I hope to see you again, my child.”
Arden nodded and watched him walk away.
Alone again, she found that her anxiety returned. It was another twitchy five minutes before Dade showed, alone. He entered the same way she had, through the back to avoid any surveillance that would link them together.
The minute she saw him, her restlessness melted away. Now that she knew he was safe, breathing felt easier. Arden rose from the bench and walked to him.
Dade, heart-stopping and gorgeous, grinned at her. Grabbing her hand, he towed her to one of the empty confessionals. Pushing her inside, he squeezed in with her, shutting the door behind them. It was dark in the tiny vestibule. The only light, shining through the hatched grid on the door, splotched light on his skin.
They stood close, pushed together, almost sharing a breath. Touching from shoulders to hips. Arden reached out to place her hands against his chest. Dade gripped her waist, anchoring her.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, his words tickling the side of her head. Then he brushed his lips against her skin. “I had trouble getting out of the Tower. They posted more guards. Apparently someone dressed as a delivery girl tried to break in. It’s got everyone stirred up, trying to figure out what she was doing there.”
Arden chuckled, while making a mental note to retire that costume indefinitely. “I have no idea who would do such a thing.”
“Me either.”
She pulled back to look at him. “I didn’t think you’d signal.”
“I said I would try my best to get the information. It took some time, I’m sorry about that. But I’d always planned to see you again.”
She pretended to ignore the flirting. “It must have cost you.” A lot considering she’d been unable to pay off anyone for the same intelligence. She had no idea how she was going to tell Niall how she’d acquired it.
“They’re keeping her in the South Grid Lockup. She’s scheduled to be moved to the City Reeducation Center tomorrow.”
The South Grid Lockup was where they held prisoners who were a potential threat to national security. And the City Reeducation Center was more a black hole labeled as a place for mind-level reconditioning. Once you went in, you never came out. Being sent there was as good as a death warrant.
The news was not good. Arden had hoped they wouldn’t perform the interrogation in an official govie location. Somewhere off-site would be easier to get into. Both the South Grid Lockup and the City Reeducation Center were virtually impenetrable, with the level of security there equaling that of the city vault. Not to mention that the govies were authorized to use deadly force on any break-in attempts or escapes.
“She’s not going to be in good shape. They’re only moving her because the facility she’s in doesn’t provide the tools they need to break her.”
“Extreme torture, you mean.” Her heart sank.
Dade made an aggrieved face. “Unfortunately.”
Arden drew a breath but managed to keep her face impassive. It seemed excessively harsh a punishment when the only thing they had to hold Mariah on was her having been beyond Undercity without authorization. “How can that be legal?”
“It’s been sanctioned at the highest level,” he said. “The govies are frustrated. They see the problem as a general disregard for the Level system and the drug use a sign that the gangs want the economy to fail. The govies will do anything at this point to stop the unrest.”
“Let’s not forget that they’re also getting their pockets lined,” Arden added sarcastically. “The Solizen are pushing the issue. Crime is as bad as it’s always been. Nothing’s changed.”
Dade nodded. “You’re right, money has a lot to do with it too.”
“So now it’s okay to torture for monetary gain?”
“Don’t yell at the messenger.” Dade held up his hands in surrender. “I’m agreeing with you, if you haven’t noticed.”
Arden exhaled. “Have they gotten any info from her?” If Mariah managed to keep quiet through the first round of torture, Arden could see why the govies were ticked enough to move her to the CRC.
“I have no idea.”
Arden thought for a moment, considering this information. She’d never cased either location, as her gang members always focused on drugs and were thus far successful at not getting caught and needing to break out of a detainment facility. “What are the weak points of the locations? Any way I can run this like a smash-and-grab?”
Dade shook his head. “Your window for rescue will only be about two minutes. She’ll be guarded from the door to the transport, but that is the only point that’s vulnerable enough to make your move. The CRC has a covered in-doc area. So you can’t hit there.”
Arden nodded. “Okay.”
“If you miss your window, there won’t be a second chance.”
“Got it.” Arden licked her lips, then said, “I really appreciate your help. It’s unusual that people keep their word. You did, and I’m grateful.”
Dade’s head tilted to the side as he considered her. “I need to ask you something.”
“All right.” She didn’t like the tone he used, but he deserved an answer to whatever it was. They’d reached a new level in openness. It was time for her to reciprocate.
“I need to know how . . .” He paused to search for the right word. “How involved you are with Lasair?”
Her first reaction was a sharp intake of breath. She shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like he couldn’t put together obvious clues. She had to stop thinking of him like a spoiled rich kid. He’d proven himself to be a smart, worthy opponent capable of getting information she couldn’t. Plus, even though he knew she was with Lasair, he had still been willing to help her.
“Niall Murray is my brother.”
Dade frowned. “It was too much to hope that what I’d heard was incorrect and that you were just a foot soldier, huh?”
“I sell drugs, Dade.” She was sick of being evasive. Not now. Not with him. He had to understand. If he kept pressing for this relationship, he needed full disclosure as to what he was accepting. “I steal them from your family, and I sell the drugs on the street, mostly to kids. It provides for my family. Keeps my parents alive. Occasionally I kill people because it’s necessary. If it comes down to me or them, I’m always going to save myself. It’s not what I want out of life, and I’m not proud of it, but that’s the truth. I will sacrifice anything for my family.”
“I had hoped that maybe . . .” He let his voice trail off, and his brow scrunched adorably.
“What? That I didn’t actually get my hands dirty? I’m sorry to disappoint you.” The response was
a bit aggressive, and he certainly didn’t deserve her anger. Mostly it was embarrassment that caused her to strike out with her words.
“No.” His hands went to her shoulders, rubbing her arms soothingly. “I just hoped that you were lower on the food chain, is all. It’s difficult for me to understand how you can perpetuate the disease.”
“What?” She was flabbergasted.
“Sustaining the drug trade is no better than what my father does.”
“I may sell the drugs on the street, but your family and the rest of the Solizen maintain ninety-five percent of the city’s wealth and resources. Do you have any idea what it’s like to scrape in order to survive?” She might play fast and loose with her morals, but she wouldn’t be ashamed of it. “This is a war. And there’s passive resistance and active resistance.”
“Hooking kids on Shine isn’t patriotism.”
“No, but it breaks the system. Every drug that’s on the street questions the need for VitD in the first place. There is no difference between prescription drugs and street drugs. They were hooked on VitD before I sold them Shine. I’m not the one creating a generation of addicts. I’m just being honest about my part.”
Dade squeezed her hands. “I’m not passing judgment.”
Arden breathed out, letting the tension go with it. “I want to believe that you and I can work. But it’s conversations like this that make me question how different we are.”
“Not so very different.” He paused. “In the effort of full disclosure, I do understand what it’s like on the street. I may not be there myself, but I see plenty of people who suffer.”
“And how would you see that, locked in your Tower?”
“I’m the Ghost.”
“What?” It took her a full moment to compute what he’d said. Two moons, Colin had been right. “You’re just full of surprises today.”
He gave her an embarrassed grimace.
Though she really should have known. Dade was compassionate to a fault, even if that meant stealing from his own family to give to the poor. Because who else would give away lucrative drugs without thought to the money he could make?
The Breaking Light (Split City Book 1) Page 14