by Kit Rocha
Since he'd yet to see a scrap of tech more advanced than Emma's tattoo machine, he raised an eyebrow. "A program, huh?"
"Yeah." She pulled a key out of a drawer and slid it across the desk to fall into his hand. "Time to see if you're half as good as your reputation, hacker."
Watching Noah work was an old habit Emma could definitely fall back into.
"This is unreal." He crouched in front of one of the shelves and tugged out a box labeled in Noelle's meticulous cursive as Miscellaneous: Surveillance Related. "You could build any goddamn thing out of the parts he's got here."
"Dallas never throws anything away." She knelt beside him and peered into the box. "That's the stuff Rachel pulled off a downed Eden drone last year."
"Might be able to put a functional one back together with it, too." He pushed the box back into place and looked in the next one. "Lots of memory chips, that's good. Those are hard to get these days."
The tone of his voice--distracted but still intense--brought back a rush of memories, and she bit her lip against a smile. "Noelle put something together for you."
He rose and followed her to the table, where a workstation had been constructed with a slim keyboard resting in front of one of the biggest tablet screens they had--the kind Nessa and Noelle liked to play movies on.
Noah spun the chair around and straddled it before swiping his fingers across the screen. It sparked to life, bathing his face in harsh white light as he narrowed his eyes.
His gaze flicked back and forth for a quiet minute, and he frowned. "Huh. Edwin Cunningham's daughter did this?"
Emma punched him on the arm. "She's smart. And she says she doesn't know much, but you're the only other person I've ever met who could handle this kind of tech."
"Hey, no arguments here." He nudged her in the side with his elbow. "But there's no fucking way someone in Eden taught a councilman's daughter how to code like this. She must be like you. Naturally gifted."
Emma's cheeks heated. The praise wasn't new, but there was something different about hearing it now that their circumstances had changed so much. "Thanks."
"It's the truth." He swiped his fingers across the screen, rearranging windows full of code with half his attention. "My father had me learning how to do this before I was five years old. And I'm good, but it was never like you are with the art. You just do it."
"Uh-huh." She leaned over him. This close, she could smell soap, leather, and a hint of mint, of all things. "Did Lex tell you anything about Noelle's program?"
"Nope. I think she's testing me." A furrow formed between his brows. "But from what it looks like... Oh, shit."
When he started laughing, Emma knew he'd figured it out. "Uh-huh. It's like that."
"Naughty girl, spying on Eden," Noah said, still grinning. "And tricky, but I can see where she's gotten tripped up. She's dumping all the data from the access points broadcasting past Eden's walls, but I bet she didn't realize just how far out some of the signals go. No one does."
A system monitoring all the data traffic in and out of Eden was one thing, but what he was talking about was something entirely different. "How far do they go?"
"Farther than even Eden knows." A swipe of his hand cleared the tablet, and he pulled up a program he'd showed her before, a digital art application where you drew directly on the screen. She'd never liked it--how could you feel your art when you couldn't feel it?--but she watched silently as he used it for a more practical purpose.
"This is the city," he said, drawing a circle with his finger. He drew the four spokes coming out of it in the cardinal directions next, and then the diagonals, dividing the outside into eight sections. "And the sectors. In the original designs, there was supposed to be a secondary wall." He drew a larger circle to encompass all of it. "That wasn't finished before the solar flares, but they'd already laid the groundwork. The tunnels, wires for power and networking. Everything but the wall itself, basically."
Emma stared at the screen. "So Eden isn't self-contained at all. The sectors are wired for access to their systems."
"Yup. The only way for Eden to be truly off-the-grid was to make sure all the support structures were connected. This was all in the original plans, but..." He trailed off and slanted a look at her. "How much do you know about what happened when the grid went down?"
Only the secondhand stories she'd heard curled up at her grandmother's knee--the darkness of the big blackout, followed by the almost magical appearance of the aurora borealis, all shades of green and blue and red, extending much farther to the south than it should have. "I know a solar storm knocked out the power grid. Destroyed it. The Flare."
Noah snorted. "They should have called it the Surge, because that's where things really went wrong. There was a technical failure in the systems that were supposed to prevent a power surge from wiping data, and it cascaded. Every device connected to the network fried, and it was anarchy."
"And the lights went out." It should have been more horrifying, to think of an innocent, comfortable world, gone in an instant. But Emma felt simple wonder that there ever could have been a society that knew only light and ease.
"Except in Eden, because it wasn't online yet. Nothing to fry." Noah circled his finger around the wall again, drawing in a second, overlapping line. "My grandfather was one of the founders, you know. It was supposed to be some big dream, the first high-tech green city. Totally self-contained, totally sustainable. They were going to prove it was possible."
Instead, it had become a prison, a place where citizens' thoughts and feelings were policed as much as their actions. "What happened?"
"Good people had something valuable, so bad people took it from them."
"Men with smaller ideas--and bigger guns?"
"Smart girl." Noah swiped his hand across the screen, banishing the drawing. "They killed my grandfather."
His hands were busy, so she squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "He died five years before I was born. All I ever knew about him were the stories, and my father... Well, you know how my father was."
Emma remembered the man's eyes--red-rimmed and bloodshot, a dull version of Noah's bright blue. "He was pretty fried by the time I met him." It was hard to imagine he'd once been one of the best hackers in the sectors.
"I guess he was." He rearranged the windows on the screen again before pulling the keyboard closer. "The drugs made him dumb, but they didn't make him mean. He was that way from the start, bitter and angry. That's why he hacked Eden's files while everything was still in chaos. There's no record now of the outer access points and control rooms having ever existed."
"So they're there, but Eden doesn't know about them?"
"Emmy..." His fingers hovered over the keyboard, and he glanced at her. "What I've already told you is dangerous. You get that, right? I'm not even talking about Fleming now. You could disappear into a holding cell in Eden and never come out."
Her heart pounded against her breastbone. Her entire life had been about the immediate evils, the dangers that had surrounded her. But always, hovering beyond that, was the threat of Eden, the invincible city with endless resources, endless power.
Not so endless, maybe.
"Hey." Noah rose and spun the chair to face her before catching her hands in his. "By the time I'm done helping Dallas, no one will be able to touch you. Not while you're wearing his ink."
"What? No, that's not what I was thinking." Her gaze locked with his. "They're not infallible, and that means no one is. Especially not Fleming."
His fingers tightened. "That's what I'm counting on."
"Then why can't you see?" she asked desperately. "You don't need to go after Fleming, guns blazing. You can hurt him worse on your terms, doing what you do. Thinking."
Noah's jaw clenched. "It's not that simple. I can't just live out in the open like a normal person. Fleming won't let me. My only chance at anything close to a life is taking him out."
"Is it? Or do you want to kill him so
badly you can't see anything else?"
Noah hauled her closer, until she was straddling his thighs, practically in his lap. "I'll think about it, all right? For you, I'll think about it."
His proximity made her head spin, but she held her ground. "No, for yourself."
He stroked up her arms and slid his hands into the loose strands of her hair. "It's the same thing. Until you get that, you won't get me."
Emma shivered. "Everything in your life can't be about me."
Tugging gently, he tilted her head back and pressed a kiss to the underside of her chin. "Why not?"
"Because..." There were a hundred damn good reasons--a thousand, even--but with his mouth on her skin, all that mattered was one. "Because you haven't said you'll stay."
"And that would make it okay?" His fingers tangled in her hair, pulling until her scalp tingled.
"It would make sense." Why deny that sort of all-encompassing emotion?
"That's not what I asked." He licked her pulse. Grazed her skin with his teeth. "It's obsessive. Possessive. Dangerous. Is that what you want?"
As if there was any other way to love in Sector Four. "O'Kanes don't do anything halfway, Noah. Especially not this."
Groaning, he forced her to meet his gaze. "Do you have any goddamn idea what you're saying? What you're offering?"
More than her body. Her heart, her soul, everything. But words would never convince him. "Give me one night to prove it to you. You get this thing done for Dallas, and I'll show you what it all means to me."
"One night?"
"Not some tits-and-ass setup so Dallas can show you how very luscious things are around here," she clarified. "The real shit. Fight night."
"Okay." His hands slipped from her hair, and she immediately missed the gentle pressure. "As long as you realize that if I show my face, I'll probably end up fighting. Too many people from Three want to take a swing at me."
He didn't exactly seem displeased by the prospect, so Emma smiled slowly and rubbed her thumb over his lower lip. "So climb in the cage and take a swing back."
His eyebrows lifted, and he smiled under her touch. "My turn to put on a show?"
"A little. But maybe also to see how O'Kanes celebrate victory."
"So sure I'm gonna win?"
"Lesson number one," she breathed, easing closer on his lap. "We always have faith in each other, and in our men."
He caught her thumb between his teeth and licked the pad, his eyes never leaving hers. She pushed farther, gliding her thumb over his tongue in a slow circle before pulling free. "Noah?"
"Yeah?" His voice was low, husky. His cock was hard beneath her, straining at his fly, and she rocked against him.
Then she rose. "You have work to do."
Noah blinked. His mouth opened. Closed. When his lips parted again, a groan tumbled out. "Fuck, Emmy. You grew up mean."
His approving tone made protest and indignation unnecessary. "You like me. Admit it."
He grumbled as he swung back around to face the keyboard and screen, but a smile played around the edges of his mouth. "More every day, sunshine."
"Uh-huh." Emma melted back against the wall to watch him, his words echoing in her mind.
More every day.
Maybe it would be enough.
Chapter Six
Sector Four's fight night was legendary.
And it was real. Emma hadn't been wrong about that. Noah had run into plenty of O'Kanes on the job, and he'd gotten an eyeful of how they played. But taken on its own it was fragmented data, a sub-process that told him nothing about the whole.
Fight night, on the other hand, was everything the O'Kanes stood for, distilled to the purity of their signature whiskey. Sex and violence, pride and challenge. Strength and protection. And standing next to Dallas O'Kane at the edge of the cage, Noah had the best seat in the house.
Well, maybe the second-best seat.
Most of the bare warehouse was standing room only, with a few battered tables and chairs around the edges. A few grizzled old men sat there with their drinks, taking bets and calling odds. But the space next to the makeshift bar held tiered stages covered in plush leather couches, and that was where the O'Kane women had gathered.
They were screaming now, cheering as one of the O'Kanes beat an opponent into the rough cement. Noah had tried to pay attention to the fight, but his gaze kept drifting back to Emma. She was sleek and deadly tonight, in tiny leather shorts and a leather vest obviously invented by a sadist--some insane creation that snapped together beneath her tits and left so much of them bare that all he could think about was peeling it away to get his hands on her.
Or his mouth.
Or his dick.
"Lex told me everything, you know," Dallas drawled without warning, hauling Noah's gaze back to the leader of Sector Four.
Noah had figured she would, but it still cooled his lust. Dallas knew the truth, and no one would stop him if he tried to put Noah in a shallow grave. "Yeah? You want me gone?"
"Didn't say that." Dallas crossed beefy arms over his chest and watched the fight, but Noah had no doubt the man was aware of everything around him. "There's some ugly shit in your past. Doesn't make you special. But if you can't let it the hell go because she matters more, it makes you not fucking worthy."
Noah looked at Emma again. She caught the glance and smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear in a gesture he'd seen a hundred times. If he closed his eyes he could picture her, younger, softer, blushing as her fingers caught a stray lock of hair and smoothed it back from her face.
She'd always seen good in him, even when he was sure it wasn't there. He'd been equally sure she couldn't want the reality--the messy, fucked-up truth of his desires, the things he could barely admit to himself.
Sex and violence, pride and challenge. Strength and protection.
Possessiveness and submission.
Fuck, she'd been around the O'Kanes for three years now. She probably understood it all better than he did.
"Lennox." A tall, dark-haired man slammed back a whiskey and shoved his glass at a passing woman, earning himself a curse and a punch in the back. He ignored both. "You and me, in the cage."
It took a second for Noah to place the rough face, but when he did, a name followed, floating up from the data he'd assembled on the people of Sector Three. Andy Charles, a small-time player in the black-market trade between Sectors Two and Three.
Noah hadn't messed with the guy--but he'd refused to work for him. That was all it took to piss off a bastard like this, when they could almost taste the money Noah was cheating them out of by refusing to play ball. He'd beaten down plenty of guys like Andy Charles, usually in back alleys or broken-down warehouses, using the moves Cib had taught him to end the fights fast and dirty.
It would be different here, and not just because Emma was watching. Stepping into that cage meant stepping out of the shadows. If Fleming didn't already know where he was, he would by the end of the night. And he'd know that Noah was done hiding.
He glanced at Dallas. "You sure you want Mac Fleming gunning for me in your sector?"
Dallas snorted. "You think that'd be new? Mac Fleming's been gunning for me since I took over Sector Three. It'd be a nice change of pace if he did it out in the open."
The cage was empty now, the last fight over, and the burly man by the door was holding it half-open, watching Dallas expectantly.
Waiting.
"All right, then." Noah bent to tug at his boot laces, and Dallas must have made some sort of signal because the warehouse exploded in cheers and shouted bets.
He let it all blur into meaningless sound as he stripped down to his bare feet and jeans. Andy had already done the same and vaulted into the cage, leaving Noah to cast one final look at Emma.
She stared back at him as if the small army of cheering people around them didn't exist. Instead, the corner of her mouth tilted up in an almost-smile, and she winked at him.
God, how long had it been since he'd
won Emma's trust with winks? He'd been harder then, growing brittle and wary from trying to shoulder his father's responsibilities without turning into him.
But she'd been worth softening his usual scowl with a wink, even though it looked ridiculous. Especially because it looked ridiculous. His face wasn't built for playful expressions, and the incongruity had always made her laugh.
A wink didn't look silly on her. It was sexy, sultry. Almost a promise, and one he was fucking well going to take her up on.
Soon.
The cage door clanged shut behind Noah, and with the lights blaring down on him, he couldn't pick her out of the shadows anymore. The world constricted to the metal cage and the man facing him, a scowl twisting his features.
Noah flexed his fingers and quirked an eyebrow. "Andy."
"Should have known you'd find your way here." Andy's scowl intensified. "Guess O'Kane has pockets deep enough for you to get your hands dirty, huh?"
"You never did get it, did you? Not everything's for sale."
"No?" He feinted a jab, then danced back. "Looks different from where I stand."
Of course it did, because he wasn't seeing a goddamn thing, not really. He'd never notice all the ways Four was different. He saw violent men and half-naked women, not the things that mattered. Strength in the women. Compassion in the men.
Banter was useless. He got it or he didn't, and it wasn't Noah's place to enlighten him or change his mind.
So he'd rearrange his face instead.
Flowing out of the way of another feint, Noah went in hard and fast, smashing his fist into Andy's gut. The roar from the crowd eclipsed the man's pained grunt, but he didn't let the blow throw him for long. He struck back, sloppy and rushed, aiming for Noah's temple.
Noah dodged the worst of it and took a glancing blow to the cheek--just enough to give him a nice bruise for Emma to fuss over later--but the contact put him inside the other man's guard.
His punch didn't miss.
His knuckles stung as he whipped Andy's head to the side, sending him stumbling back. He hit the metal bars, rebounded off, and charged Noah with a theatrical growl. Maybe it was supposed to intimidate him. If so, the man was an idiot, wasting time and breath making his intentions clear.