I don’t give the cops another glance. I turn and head toward the elevator, Fergus tight on my right, Alexei and his two men shadowing me with steps that echo across the marble. Their boots leave damp streaks on the floorfrom the storm outside. The lobby’s air is thick with polish, copper, and the faint sting of rain every time the glass doors open.
“Wait a minute,” Caldwell calls after me. Her voice is sharp enough to crack through the hum of voices behind us.
“Nope.” I put my hand on the plate. The scanner warms under my palm, then the elevator doors slide open with a hiss. She’ll need a warrant for the other floors.
We step into the car. It’s a good-sized box, steel walls reflecting too much tension. The fluorescent strip above buzzes, throwing hard shadows across the men crowding inside. The air grows close, heavy, a mix of aftershave, damp wool, and gun oil. Too much testosterone, too little space.
The doors close.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Alexei asks, his tone clipped, almost casual, though his eyes are sharp. One of his men shifts beside him, adjusting the strap of his shoulder holster.
“Sylveria Rendale was found dead in a lobby closet.” My words drop into the silence.
Alexei stills. For a beat, the only sound is the grinding of the elevator cables as we descend. “No shit?”
I nod once.
“Did you kill her?” he asks.
“No, and I don’t know who did. My cameras are down.” I don’t like that fact. “I can’t find my computer guy. Kaz.”
Alexei shrugs, but the movement’s too loose, too deliberate. “I know all about Kaz and have never found a hint of disloyalty to you. But, maybe he did it.”
The laugh I force out is short and sharp. “Kaz? No. He’s loyal to the bone.”
The doors part with a low chime, spilling us into the server floor. Cold air hits my face, smelling of ozone, solder, and dust baked into wiring. Towers of servers hum in tight rows, their blinking lights throwing pulses of green and blue across steel and concrete. The sound is constant and low, like a growl that never fades.
Kaz’s chair is empty. His console dark. The emptiness there is louder than any alarm.
Alexei’s mouth tightens. “If your guy isn’t here, why am I?”
“I’m not a novice,” I answer, already striding to an isolated machine that isn’t connected to Malice Media or even the internet. I want to get this over with so I can go reassure Ella. At least Wynd got her somewhere safe. “Plug in your damn drive.”
Alexei fishes out a black thumb drive, rolls it across his knuckles, then tosses it to me. I catch it, shove it into a port on the unit that’s safely disconnected from my garnet.
The screen flickers. A video loads showing grainy night footage of a Jeep rolling up in front of Alexei’s place. Two men climb out. Both masked.
The first is clumsy, steps uneven, shoulders hunched like he doesn’t belong in his own skin.
The second rounds the hood with measured purpose. A rocket launcher gleams against his back. “That’s you,” Alexei says. “It’s your watch.”
“It’s not,” I breathe out. “Mine has more garnets.” I watch the man as his arm shifts, wrist turning, and the inkon his skin flashes under a streetlight. I freeze. My pulse thunders in my ears. “Holy fuck,” I murmur. Betrayal feels like knives down my torso. “I know him.”
Alexei leans closer, his men tensing at his sides. “Who?”
My head tips back, rage sliding into place like a blade locking in. “We need to find Ella. Now.”
THIRTY-SIX
Ella
I’m bouncing out of unconsciousness along with the car bumping over uneven roads. The trunk rattles around me, the carpet rough under my cheek, the air stale and hot. It smells faintly of leather polish mixed with gasoline, with a trace of citrus air freshener trying and failing to cover it. Every jolt slams my head against metal, pain sparking at my temple. My ankle throbs, sharp and angry, though I don’t remember twisting it. Panic scrapes through my chest.
Who threw me in this trunk?
I try to think through the options. I’m not even sure who the guy who hit us was. Just how well do I know Bronco? Was he there? I don’t know what happened. I really don’t. My thoughts keep sliding, foggy and uneven, as the car rocks me hard against the side. Two huge sneezes take me, and my head throbs. My nose hurts. It feels more like an allergy attack than a cold, and I don’t have any medicine.
Justice. His face swims across my mind. I need him. Now.
