Текст книги "Our Lady of the Ice"

Автор книги: Cassandra Clarke

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

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 grinned and nodded, then slipped his arm around the woman. Together they glided toward the dance floor.

Shit. Now Diego’d have to give up his spot next to the window.

He drifted along behind them, aware not only of Mr. Cabrera but of the people around Mr. Cabrera—mostly rich old aristocrats and their sparkling wives. Nobody suspicious.

He found a new place, this time up against a wall next to an ugly abstract painting. People swirled past him, and he scowled at them each in turn to discourage anyone from trying to strike up a conversation. Not that it was necessary. Despite the tuxedo Mr. Cabrera had lent him, it was clear Diego did not belong in a place like this. Neither did Mr. Cabrera, when you got down to it, but there were some Independent-minded city politicians Mr. Cabrera needed in his pocket, just in case this whole agriculture dome thing ever happened.

“You can sit around worrying about this shit,” Mr. Cabrera had said a few hours earlier, as they’d ridden in his sleek dark car toward the hotel, Diego forcing himself to focus on his assignment and not Eliana, “or you can take some precautions. So that’s what we’re doing. Taking precautions.”

Diego had only nodded in response. He knew all about Mr. Cabrera’s ideas on precautions. He had been helping with those precautions for the last five years, ever since Mr. Cabrera had taken him out of the pool of errand-runners and said, “You’re practically my son. I don’t want you wasting your time with this shit.” There had even been a suggestion, never explicitly stated but often implied, that someday Diego might take over Mr. Cabrera’s business. But Mr. Cabrera’s retirement was a long way away.

Diego didn’t want to think about that possible future, though. The woman they’d thrown to the ice, this was the sort of place she should be. Standing up on the dais telling all the dancers just how welcome their contributions were.

The thought made Diego feel hollow.

Mr. Cabrera left the dance floor, the silver woman at his side. Diego took another sip of his whiskey and followed them across the party, keeping a respectful distance—close enough to see but not close enough to hear. Mr. Cabrera went over to the bar, bought his girl a drink, and then herded her toward the balcony.

Diego went along for it all. This kind of work wasn’t so bad, although watching Mr. Cabrera flirt with the girl reminded him of the good times he’d had with Eliana. Which he didn’t need right now.

The balcony doors were closed, and when Mr. Cabrera pushed one open, the artificial wind gusted in, cold and smelling faintly of the docks. The woman laughed as her skirt fluttered up around her knees, and she put one hand on her hair as if to hold it in place. They stepped out. Diego hesitated, not sure if he should follow—but then Mr. Cabrera glanced at him over his shoulder and nodded once, his expression hard and serious.

Diego stepped outside.

It was freezing. Mr. Cabrera had led his girl up to the railing, and their voices rose and fell with the wind, pieces of laughter and stupid flirtations. Diego fumbled around in his pocket for a cigarette and had a hell of a time lighting it in the wind. When the ember flared, the woman looked over at him, then turned back to Mr. Cabrera and said something Diego couldn’t catch.

“. . . protection,” Mr. Cabrera said, which was all Diego could hear. The woman gazed up at Mr. Cabrera like she was impressed. It occurred to Diego that she might not know who Mr. Cabrera was. She might not know what she was getting into.

If he’d had a way, he’d have warned her. But he didn’t have a way.

Diego smoked his cigarette and kept his eye on the door, since he doubted anybody would be coming at Mr. Cabrera from the open air. He was almost to the filter when the girl suddenly whooshed past his line of vision and back into the building, her dress trailing out behind her like a smear of light.

Diego looked over at Mr. Cabrera, who was leaning against the railing and staring at him.

“You got another one of those?” Mr. Cabrera asked.

Diego nodded and pulled out the pack. He walked across the balcony and handed it to Mr. Cabrera, who lit one and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“So what’d you say to make her run off?” Diego asked, joking.

Mr. Cabrera didn’t smile. “I didn’t run her off. I asked her to get me another drink.” He winked. “Needed to get us alone. It seems we have a problem.”

“A problem.” Didn’t sound like much of a problem so far. Mr. Cabrera would dance a few more rounds and then take the girl up to his room and slip that silver dress off her shoulders while Diego stood out in the hallway, chain smoking and missing Eliana. Boring. Sad, even. But not a fucking problem.

“I saw someone while I was dancing with my lovely new friend.” Mr. Cabrera leaned against the railing. The wind shoved his hair back away from his forehead, and in the glinting city lights he looked like some gargoyle on the side of a cathedral, not like a man at all. “Someone who’s supposed to be dead.”

“What?” Diego stepped forward. “Who?”

Mr. Cabrera didn’t look at him. “One of our hostesses,” he said. “I watched you kill her last month. But she isn’t dead.”

The woman. Luna. Lady Luna. It was the first time Diego had thought her name. He felt a sudden surge of relief. She wasn’t dead. Not that he could let Mr. Cabrera know about that wayward emotion. He was supposed to be hard. Brutal. That was the reason Mr. Cabrera had taken him in, all those years ago.

“She’s alive? How’s that even possible?”

Mr. Cabrera dragged hard on his cigarette. “I asked around. Something about her maintenance drones dragging her back in.” Mr. Cabrera tossed his cigarette out into the night. “A far-fetched story, don’t you think?”

“It does seem unlikely.”

“The rumors are ignoring the other possibility, of course, and rather conveniently so. It’s just as far-fetched, but it would explain Pablo Sala’s obsession with her. I’m sure you remember Pablo.”

“Yes, sir,” Diego said, heat singeing his cheeks.

“Mr. Sala claimed he had a way of removing her. He implied it would make it unnecessary to kill her. But maybe I took it the wrong way. Maybe it’s impossible to kill her. Maybe that’s why he phrased it the way he did.”

Silence. Mr. Cabrera watched him, waiting. This was a test, Diego realized.

And with that, all the tumblers fell into place.

“She’s a cyborg,” Diego said.

“You were always the smart one. Glad I brought you along instead of Sebastian.” Mr. Cabrera sighed. “Sala was right. Letting that out would remove her from the city. But I don’t want to remove her. I want to kill her.” He looked at Diego. “You think you can do that for me?”

Diego’s body went cold. “Here?”

“Not in the middle of the dance floor, no. But yes, I’d like it done tonight.”

Christ, this was supposed to be a bodyguarding job. Follow him around, help him get laid. Diego wasn’t prepared for killing tonight. He especially didn’t want to kill this woman, didn’t want to let go of that initial swell of relief, didn’t want to prove to himself that Eliana really was better off leaving the city.

“She’s a cyborg.”

“Not paying attention to the conversation?” Mr. Cabrera turned toward the door.

“No, I mean—how am I supposed to do it? The ice didn’t kill her—”

“She’s not a robot,” Mr. Cabrera said. “Shoot her in the brain, then shoot her in the heart. Keep shooting until she doesn’t move anymore.”

Diego didn’t say anything. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t feel the blood in his veins. He was aware of the gun in his coat pocket, a cold weight against the side of his waist.

“Just get her alone while you do it,” Mr. Cabrera said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to fetch the enchanting Esperanza and ensure that I’m seen by as many people as possible in the next few hours.” And with that, he turned and breezed back through the balcony doors, leaving Diego alone.

Christ. Marianella Luna was a cyborg. Why didn’t Mr. Cabrera just take the information public? It’d accomplish the same purpose, ultimately.

But Diego knew. It was because Mr. Cabrera held a grudge against her for those damn ag domes. Shipping her off to Asia wouldn’t satisfy it.

Diego smoked another cigarette and used that time to clear out all his thoughts. He put his hand on his gun, reminding himself it was there.

He went back into the party.

Even though he wasn’t watching out for Mr. Cabrera anymore, he spotted him first thing, standing with his contacts. The silver woman was still on his arm. She looked put out. Probably pissed about having to delay their dalliance.

Mr. Cabrera made sure not to look at Diego as he walked past, and Diego allotted him the same courtesy. He moved along the edge of the party, scanning faces for Marianella Luna. Women’s laughter rolled over him. He felt cold, like he was still standing out in the wind. After a while all the faces started to look the same, like painted-on masks.

And then he found one that was different.

Eliana.

He saw Eliana’s face.

He thought he was imagining it at first, hallucinating some place he’d rather be. But no—it was her, wearing a slinky dress the blue of summertime glaciers, a handbag tucked under one arm. She was speaking to someone, smiling, looking like she was having a good time. A woman. She was talking to a woman. The woman turned her head suddenly, as if she’d heard her name.

And Diego’s heart stopped beating.

Eliana was talking to Marianella Luna.

Diego’s mind went blank. He could only stare stupidly at Eliana, laughing and sloshing her wine around in its glass. Why the fuck was she here? She was leaving for the mainland. What did she care about ag domes?

The thought flittered past, brief and uncomfortable, that she had lied to him about leaving. But it didn’t make sense, and so he forced it down.

She hadn’t seen him yet. Diego backed away, finding a quiet corner behind a potted pine tree to consider his options. Mr. Cabrera wasn’t going to let him get away with not killing Lady Luna just because his girl was here. He’d have to separate them, get Eliana away from Lady Luna. He could send her down to Mr. Cabrera’s room, maybe. Mr. Cabrera wouldn’t be down there until he was certain the deed was done. But when she found out Marianella Luna had died tonight, while she’d been tucked away, she’d figure it out. The girl was practically a cop. Plus she was smart.

“Shit,” Diego whispered. He scanned the room, sweat prickling on his forehead. Mr. Cabrera was still talking to his contacts and the woman in the silver dress. Not paying him any mind.

Diego wanted to leave.

The idea stunned him. Even knowing Eliana hoped to go to the mainland someday, he hadn’t thought that way since he was a teenager, when Mr. Cabrera first took him under his wing. Back then he’d struggled against Mr. Cabrera’s discipline. There hadn’t been any murders, any guilt over women thrown to the ice. He’d only wanted to leave because he hadn’t been used to someone caring about him enough to smack some obedience into him.

But this was different. This wasn’t walking out because he was some asshole kid. It was walking out because he couldn’t handle his instructions. And at this point in his life, he didn’t have that option. If he left the party, Mr. Cabrera would find him before winter ran out and Diego could flee the city with Eliana. It’d happened before. Mr. Cabrera had in fact sent Diego to take care of the man who had tried to leave.

Lady Luna and Eliana split away from their group, walking toward the bar—and walking right past Diego. No. Shit. It was too soon. He didn’t know how to deal with this situation, and Eliana was turning her head, she was smiling, she was seeing him.

“Diego?” She stopped in place. Marianella Luna kept walking like she hadn’t noticed. “What are you doing here?”

“Got an invitation.” He slid forward and took her by the arm. “Wanna dance?” The first thing that came to his mind. Stupid. When Mr. Cabrera saw, he’d be livid.

“I can’t.” Eliana frowned, and he saw the hurt in her expression that he had turned away from to avoid when he’d walked out of her apartment two weeks ago. “I’m doing something.” She glanced over at Lady Luna. Diego did too, without thinking. She was ordering at the bar. “This is really strange, Diego. You just—leave, and then you show up here?”

She knew. Not the exact assignment, but she knew he was working. She had her head tilted at an angle, and her brow was furrowed with deep lines.

He wasn’t going to bother to lie.

“You’re not the only one with a job,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. He watched Lady Luna out of the corner of his eye. The bartender was bringing Lady Luna her drinks, a couple of wineglasses glowing red in the light. “Who’s your friend?”

“You don’t recognize her?” Eliana gave him a hopeful smile. “Really?”

“No. Should I?” Lying to Eliana, about this, was harder than he’d expected. “She one of your clients?”

He saw Lady Luna turn. Saw the expression on her face ice over.

“Eliana.” Lady Luna appeared beside them. She kept her gaze on Diego. It was sharp enough to kill. “We need to go.”

And Eliana’s face transformed completely. The hope glittering in her eyes blinked out, and she gave him a look so dark and accusing that he had to turn away.

It was done. All of it.

“Yes,” Eliana said. “We can’t be out too late.”

“Eliana—” Diego started, but Eliana had already taken Lady Luna’s arm and led her away. She had one hand inside her handbag, and she glanced over her shoulder, one last time, before disappearing into the crush of people.

The party clattered on around him. He sucked in breath, trying to calm himself. When he looked back, he caught sight of Eliana’s glacier-blue dress fluttering around the side of the closest exit.

Mr. Cabrera was glaring at him from across the room. He’d seen the whole thing. Of course he had.

Diego walked out of the party. The exit led into the hallway, opulent and underlit, the way expensive hallways always are. He wasn’t a part of himself anymore. He wasn’t Diego. He was just Mr. Cabrera’s man, the boy Mr. Cabrera had lifted out of the gutters and molded into exactly what Ignacio Cabrera wanted.

At the end of the hallway, the elevator dinged.

Diego broke into a run, racing down the length of the hallway. Eliana and Lady Luna dove into the elevator, their dresses waving like flags. The doors closed before he got to them. But he stood where he was, watching the arrow go down in a slow steady arc, waiting to see where they got off. It didn’t stop till it reached the ground floor.

Diego slammed into the stairs. He took them two and three at a time, his breath coming hard and fast. More work, but quicker than waiting for the elevator to come back up. And the exercise numbed his brain for what he was about to do.

He slowed when he came to the first floor, took a deep breath, stepped out into the lobby. Lady Luna and Eliana weren’t anywhere to be seen. He hoped they hadn’t tried to double back with the elevator; if they’d used the stairs, he’d have known.

He walked up to the concierge, who looked at him with distaste.

“Excuse me,” Diego said. “I’m a valet for Lady Marianella Luna. She left her identification up at the party. Have you seen her?”

The concierge gave him a thin-lipped smile. “She just stepped outside, sir. You’ll have to hurry; we called a taxi for her.”

A taxi. Shit. Diego nodded and bounded out through the spinning door. He didn’t expect to see them. He hoped he wouldn’t see them.

He saw them.

They stood on the curb, clutching each other’s hands, staring down the dark street. Nobody out this late. It’d take a while for a taxi to arrive.

Eliana glanced nervously over her shoulder, then screeched and jumped back, fumbling in her purse. Lady Luna turned more slowly, her chest rising and falling.

“Look,” Diego said, “I think you might misunderstand—”

Eliana pulled out a gun and pointed it at him.

“Baby,” he said. “You don’t have to do this.”

She didn’t answer, only stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. The gun wobbled in her hand. Diego lifted his arms over his head. She wasn’t going to shoot him. She knew how to shoot at targets, but she didn’t know how to shoot at people.

“Mr. Cabrera just wants to talk,” he said.

“No, he doesn’t,” said Lady Luna, and then she leaned over and whispered something into Eliana’s ear. Eliana nodded, short and quick.

They both turned and ran, darting down the nearby alley.

Diego dropped his hands to his sides. An alley. They’d run into a fucking alley.

He refused to believe Eliana was this stupid. But maybe she was enough in love with him to think he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t hurt her friend. Even if he had walked out on her. He’d seen how badly she’d shaken when she’d pulled her gun.

Maybe they were just scared, both of them. He figured cyborgs could get scared like anyone else. They weren’t robots, like Mr. Cabrera had said.

Anything that could die could get scared.

He eased his gun out of his pocket and let it hang inconspicuously at his side. He took slow, confident steps into the alley. The lights were burned out, the shadows long and thick. He didn’t see Eliana or Lady Luna.

Diego began to think this might not have been such a good idea.

Then he heard footsteps. He lifted his gun and pointed it into the darkness. Eliana emerged, holding up her own gun. Her face was streaked with dark rivers where tears had run through her makeup. The sight of her nearly broke Diego’s heart.

“Please,” she said. “I’m sorry I’m leaving. But you don’t have to do this.”

“This doesn’t have anything to do with you.” Diego moved forward. He kept his gaze on Eliana’s face. “I mean it, babe. He just wants Lady Luna. That’s all. He doesn’t even know who you are, thank Christ, and I’m not angry at you for getting out of the city.”

Eliana took a step back. The gun caught a bit of light from the street and flashed in his eyes.

“Please,” she said again, almost a whisper.

And then a great, sudden weight slammed into him from his right. Diego went barreling across the alley and plowed into the side of the building. Pain erupted, bright and sharp in the left side of his face. He tasted blood.

Footsteps echoed behind him.

Diego whirled around and caught sight of Eliana fleeing the alley.

The weight slammed into him again. This time, it knocked him to the ground. Diego hit the back of his head, and everything went black-and-white, like film burning. He didn’t have his gun anymore. When the world settled, Diego stared up at the strip of dark dome peeking between the two buildings. His mouth hurt; when he ran his tongue over his teeth, one of them moved.

“Stand up.”

It was Lady Luna’s voice. He recognized it from the advertisements, throaty and aristocratic. He rolled onto his hands and knees, feeling around for the gun.

“You won’t find it. Stand up.”

Diego lifted his head. Lady Luna towered over him, not a single fucking hair out of place. She had his gun. Not that she was pointing it at him. Not that she needed to use it.

Diego spit out his lost tooth.

“Why didn’t you do this before?” he asked. “When we came to your house?”

“I wasn’t so desperate then.”

She kicked him, although it happened so fast that he only realized after he was laid out on his back a few feet away, pain racing up and down his spine.

Lady Luna knelt beside him. Her expression was cold. Machinelike. She put a hand on his throat, and when he tried to sit up, he struggled against her grip, his windpipe squeezing shut.

“I can keep doing this until I kill you,” she said. “But I won’t.”

“Why?” Diego choked out.

“Because you aren’t the one who wants me dead.”

Diego hardly had time to register what she was saying, what the hell that even meant. He was aware of Lady Luna drawing back her fist, and then he was aware of nothing.