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“I can’t,” he said. “I’m glad you’re getting out of the city, I really am. You’re right, it’s not safe here. But I can’t.”
“Diego—”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Eliana was struck dumb. Diego shook his head and grabbed his coat from the hook beside the door. “I’m sorry,” he said again, louder this time.
And then he walked out into the hallway, the door swinging shut behind him.
* * * *
Eliana wouldn’t even call it a fight. Neither of them had been angry, and what haunted her that night and into the next day wasn’t a raised voice or a screamed barb designed to wound, but the deep-throated sadness in Diego’s apology, the way he had shuffled out the door as if dragged by a chain.
A chain pulled by Ignacio Cabrera.
She went into the office the next day because she wanted the comfort of routine. Besides, another client or two, and she’d have the money saved up for her ship ticket and living expenses. Despite everything, the thought still made her warm inside. No wonder. Diego had chosen Cabrera over her.
But the morning went by uneventfully. No phone calls, no visits from potential clients. By eleven thirty Eliana considered closing the office early. It was cold, the radiator barely able to keep the room warm.
And then Marianella walked in.
Eliana almost didn’t recognize her. She had covered her hair with a scarf and put on a threadbare, dark blue men’s coat that was at least thirty years out of fashion. When she pulled off her sunglasses, her face was pale, and dark shadows rested under her eyes.
“Marianella?” Eliana blurted. “Should you be—out?”
Marianella sighed. “At this point it doesn’t matter. I have to be. For Ignacio, we worked up a story to explain my survival in the dome, so I’m not officially in hiding, but—” She looked off to the side. “I’m still trying to limit my time out and about in the city.”
She sat down at Eliana’s desk without taking off her coat or scarf. “I need a favor, Eliana. As a friend. I’ll pay you for your work, of course, but this isn’t exactly what you do, and I can’t ask Luciano.”
“What is it?” Eliana said. She was glad to see Marianella again, glad to have something to take her mind off yesterday. She wondered about this story, though. There hadn’t been anything official in the newspaper about Marianella’s trip out to the desert.
“Do you know what the Midwinter Ball is?”
“The what?”
“The Midwinter Ball. We had one last year. It’s a fund-raiser for the agricultural domes. Essential to the cause, in some ways.”
“Is this some rich-person thing?”
Marianella gave a strained smile. “I suppose you could say that. I’m going to attend, of course. It’s two weeks away.”
“You’re what!” Eliana stared at her. “Attend? Isn’t that dangerous?”
Marianella sighed. The dome light shining through the blinds illuminated her face. She looked like an aristocrat—elegant, brave, stupid.
“I can’t stay in hiding forever,” she said. “And the Midwinter Ball is imperative to our success. The story we worked up is—believable. I walked out of the dome in a fit of melancholy, and one of my maintenance drones sensed danger and opened the entrance for me.” She grazed her fingers over the side of her hair. “It should elicit sympathy with the right people, and of course it’s scandalous enough that it’ll spread like wildfire while everyone’s pretending they aren’t talking about it.” She laughed bitterly.
“I see.”
“I just want to see my ag domes built,” Marianella said. “And if I have to deal with Ignacio financially—well, it’s a small price to pay, I think. Although, of course I hope I won’t. I hope he’ll just believe the stories.” She gave a weak smile.
This devotion to Hope City, to Independence, was something that Eliana knew she wouldn’t ever understand. And which Hope City was Marianella fighting for, exactly? She lived in a private dome, with her own drones and a power system that never faltered. Even now, hiding away in the park, she was protected. She didn’t understand that this place shouldn’t exist. It was u
“Anyway.” Marianella slumped down a little, like a fire had died inside her. She smoothed down her skirt. “We are taking extra precautions for my attendance. Which is why I came to see you.”
Eliana frowned. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.
There was a pause. Marianella took a deep breath.
“What do you—” Eliana started.
“I need you to be my bodyguard.”
Eliana stared at her.
“You have a gun, of course, and a license for it. All I ask is that you come to the party with me. I’ll provide a dress and a hairstylist, anything that you need.”
“And you want me to what, shoot Cabrera for you?”
Marianella looked momentarily stricken. Then she laughed. “No, of course not. I just—if anything happens, if there are any issues, I would like to have some measure of protection.” She hesitated. “Alejo offered to lend me one of his bodyguards, but I—don’t trust any of them to keep the secret of my nature.”
“I’m an investigator,” Eliana said. “Not a bodyguard.” She rapped her fingers against the desk. The last time she’d fired a gun, she had shot someone. An andie, yes, but that memory, of his skin peeling away from the metal bones of his face, was bad enough. And Marianella still wanted Eliana to serve as bodyguard, even after seeing that? Maybe Marianella really was losing her mind.
“I would feel the safest with you.”
Marianella’s voice rang out in the cold office. Eliana fell silent, stu
“It’s a society gala,” Marianella said. “I can’t take Luciano or Sofia.” She smiled. “I’m sure you won’t even have to pull your gun out, much less use it. And I’ll pay you, of course.”
Eliana started to shake her head, but Marianella said, “Don’t you want to know how much?”
Something in her voice made Eliana look up. The ship ticket. She wouldn’t think about leaving Diego behind. He’d already made his choice.
“How much?” Eliana said cautiously.
“One hundred up front. If you’re required to do anything more than drink cocktails and flirt with old men, I’ll pay you five hundred.”
Eliana lost her air for a moment. Five hundred. The one hundred plus her savings would easily cover the ship ticket, but that five hundred—that was enough for her to start a proper life on the mainland. Maybe that would be the way to convince Diego to come with her.
Marianella watched her, hopeful.
“I’ll do it,” Eliana said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DIEGO
The party was on the top floor of a hotel downtown that looked out over the city. Diego ordered a whiskey and sipped at it as he stood next to the window. His reflection was a ghost over the veins of light that made up Hope City. It was an unusual occurrence, these days, to see the city lit up like this, and ever since Eliana had broken the news to him two weeks ago—the good news, the bad news, he couldn’t decide—he’d sure as hell felt like a ghost.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Mr. Cabrera speaking with a young woman in a shimmering silver gown. She kept laughing and touching her hair. Diego eased around and leaned up against the window. He swirled his drink around in its glass. You had to have one for appearances, at a place like this, but he knew better than to get drunk.
The woman in the silver gown put her hand on Mr. Cabrera’s arm and pulled him down so she could whisper into his ear. Mr. Cabrera gri
Shit. Now Diego’d have to give up his spot next to the window.