Page 34

EON

I ’d cleared out of the warehouse immediately. Deacon hadn’t given me a second glance, but Taos intercepted me at the door, her expression a carefully crafted mix of disappointment and concern.

“You’re really leaving? I was so close to finishing this new algorithm!” Her voice carried that familiar note of expectation barely disguised as collaboration. “Are you sure you need to go?”

Considering I didn’t think any of them would take too kindly to my latest contract, I nodded firmly. “I’m getting tired of waking up feeling like I’ve been sleeping inside some guy’s gym bag. Thanks for the hideout, but I’ve got a safe place to go.”

Her eyes grew ridiculously wide, like a little lost puppy—a look I’d seen her practice in reflective surfaces when she thought no one was watching. “Are you sure? I’m this close to finding out what really happened to the professor, I can feel it.”

I noticed she’d pulled up her code on her data pad, angled perfectly so I could see the mess of tangled algorithms and redundant loops. The structure was fundamentally flawed, and she knew it—this wasn’t about Tanaka; it was about using my skills while claiming the credit.

“The module in the third stack is inverting your data flow,” I said, unable to stop myself from pointing it out. “That’s why it keeps crashing.”

Her expression flickered between gratitude and something darker—irritation that I’d spotted the issue so quickly when she’d likely been struggling with it for days. She toyed with the glowing pendant around her neck.

“I was just about to fix that,” she said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “But if you stayed just another day, we could finish it together. For Tanaka.”

The invocation of her name was calculated, a weight she knew would pull at me. My heart winced at that, but I didn’t have time to redo Taos’ shit code right now. “You’ve got this,” I said flatly.

She frowned, the mask of solidarity slipping. “That’s it? You’re just going to walk away?”

“Looks like it.”

“After everything I’ve done for you?” There it was—the entitlement beneath the revolutionary facade. “I convinced Deacon to let you back in. I’ve shared resources, intel…”

“And I got you the Kinetic Shield tech that’s keeping half your people alive,” I countered, shouldering my bag. “I’d say we’re square.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Where are you even going? Not back to Hellfire, right?”

The question carried implications—judgment wrapped in concern. Classic Taos.

“Somewhere better than this,” I said, gesturing around the dank warehouse.

“With what money?” Her gaze sharpened, scanning me for signs of new prosperity. “You haven’t had a gig in weeks. Unless…” She studied me like she could see my treachery.

I kept my expression neutral. “Bye, Taos.”

She grabbed my arm as I turned to leave, her fingers digging in with surprising strength. “They’re using you. Whatever they’re paying, whatever they promised—they’ll discard you the moment they get what they want.”

The hypocrisy of it almost made me laugh. “Not that different from here, then, is it?”

Color rose in her cheeks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Ask Deacon why I got blacklisted after the shield tech job.” I pulled my arm free. “Or better yet, look in a mirror.”

For a moment, genuine panic flashed across her face. Then the revolutionary persona snapped back into place. “I don’t know what Vex told you, but—”

“Save it. Tanaka will still be dead in three weeks.”

I walked past her, ignoring the mixture of anger and alarm on her face. Something inside me told me I didn’t want to know what had happened to Tanaka. I had a feeling I already did.

“So that’s it?” Taos called after me, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. “You’re just going to abandon everything we’ve worked for? Everything she stood for? We have so much good still to do!”

I paused at the door but didn’t turn. “You barely knew her, Taos.” And the professor had used me too. Just like everyone else. I didn’t owe her anything.

I left Taos standing there, her perfectly calculated expression of betrayal wasted on my back. Outside the hideout, DITA chirped to life in my ear.

“Missed you, E! Are you coming home?”

“Not quite yet, DITA. Pull up that location we found. Let’s run one more search.”

I didn’t look back as I walked away. Whatever Taos was building with her cobbled-together code and borrowed revolutionary zeal, I wanted no part of it. Some rebellions were just another form of self-service, dressed up in prettier packaging. And I had someone much more interesting to deal with now.

Cy had my number. He knew I was involved with the leak of the shield tech, and that was a death sentence. Right now, he had all the power in the situation, but I wasn’t about to leave it that way.

People assumed I should be used to being degraded, considering I was a sex worker.

They thought my very lifestyle was subjected to someone else’s whims. They were wrong.

In the club, I held the power. When I was up on that stage, everyone wanted me.

Men would have given me almost anything just for me to crush them beneath my heel.

They wanted to be subjected, and they held on to the illusion that their money put them in control, but I knew better.

I could always say no. I set boundaries, and clients obeyed them—or they got kicked out.

Rook had been the exception. He had caught me at my weakest, plied me with Vector and sweet words, and I’d revealed all my weaknesses, all my insecurities. I couldn’t maintain boundaries when high. He hadn’t needed to break down my defenses—I’d done that for him. I would not let that happen again.

Cy might be blackmailing me, but I wanted him to know he wasn’t in control. That I had outsmarted him once, I could do it again.

I stood outside Cy’s apartment building. It had been a real pain in the ass to find his specific address, but that couldn’t stop me. Not since I already knew the building. I just had to go through their rental agreements. I’d had to tweak DITA’s algorithms a few times, but we’d managed it.

His apartment building was high-end, just on the edge of the Blue and Tech Districts.

Corpo sellout. Tetraglass windows reflected the evening sun, and the whole thing was spotless.

I let DITA remove my ad blocker, and immediately the building’s localized adverts popped up.

They touted Sky District-style living at a lower cost and really hammered home how they had the best security money could buy .

We’d see about that.

I’d changed into an athleisure look—tight leggings and a bra that definitely did more to lift my boobs than hold them in place.

I walked up to the front door and pretended to struggle with my bag until someone walked out of the building, chivalrously holding the door open for me.

I flashed them a smile, and they returned it before I ducked inside.

I waved at the security man sitting at the front desk, and he gave me a warm smile. I resisted rolling my eyes. Look the part, and no one ever questioned you. I walked straight into the elevator and, as soon as the doors closed, kicked open the maintenance panel and plugged in.

Two swift lines of code and we were moving.

“Security system is based on the OSRAM 801 series, but it seems they haven’t installed the last two updates,” DITA chirped in my ear.

“Cheapskates. You have it taken care of?”

“Cameras are already down, and your fingerprint has been installed on all locks.”

If I’d had worse intentions, I could’ve robbed everyone in this building blind. The fact they hadn’t had a major breach already was ridiculous.

We reached the thirty-seventh floor, and the elevator doors slid open. I walked down the hall to apartment 3789. I pressed my thumb to the lock, and it happily clicked open.

“DITA, motion detection.”

“One occupant detected, near the rear of the apartment—likely the bedroom.”

Good. Maybe I could get the jump on him.

The inside of his apartment was…sparse. A couch faced a wall of high-end screens, currently displaying horrible stock AI art he had probably never even looked at.

The kitchen was barren, except for an assault rifle laid out on the kitchen counter next to what I assumed was his go-bag. I heard the sound of a shower running.

I walked to the back of the apartment, suddenly rethinking my whole plan.

I’d wanted to be the one to surprise him—to show him he didn’t hold all the power in this situation, that I was dangerous and knew more about him than was wise.

But the thought of entering his bedroom, on his home turf, suddenly seemed very misguided.

I glanced back at the gun on the counter, then shook my head. I had a shield, and he needed me for this job. That much was obvious. The shower turned off. My time was up.

I walked into his bedroom and propped myself against the wall.

A moment later, he walked out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, water still glistening on his chest and arms.

“You should ask for a refund on your security fee,” I said.

The next instant, I was on the floor with cold metal pressed under my chin.

“Oh, it’s you.” He didn’t move off me, and I could feel the moisture from his body soaking though my clothes.

“Get off of me!”

“Good to see you too, doll. Now what the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“You said this job was urgent. Tight timeline. Came here to talk.”

“There are only two reasons people end up in my bedroom, and neither of them involves talking.” He shifted his legs between mine, and I had a feeling that threadbare towel was no longer between us. “So what did you really come for?”

“I said get off.” I shoved him, and he leaned back onto his knees. I tried not to look anywhere but his eyes, but I couldn’t help glancing down at the gun in his hand.

“Where were you even keeping that?”