“I’ll contact you soon.”
Salvi hung up, hailed an autocab and climbed in.
“Floor to Ceiling, please.”
Salvi stared at the security standing in front of the red velvet curtain leading to the stairwell. She wanted to check if Chaney had left her clearance in place. He hadn’t. He’d shut her out.
“Can you contact him for me?” she asked the large man. He stared back at her but said nothing.
“Just call him,” she said. “If he turns me away, I’ll leave, but just call him first.”
He looked unimpressed but clicked on his comms and made the call.
“Yeah, there’s a woman here to see Chaney. Name is,” he looked at her.
“Sarah Parson.”
“Sarah Parson,” he said. “Does he want to see her?” The man listened for a few minutes waiting for the answer, then when he got it, he looked back at her. “He’ll see you on the Ceiling.”
Salvi stared at him. She swallowed. “He can’t come down here?”
“You wanna see him or not?” he snapped. “He’s a busy man.”
“Alright,” she held her hand up. He stood back and opened the velvet curtain. She looked at the staircase ahead of her. It was only the Ceiling, right? Ford didn’t need to know. What if Chaney was willing to forgive her? She had to take the chance, didn’t she? They might not find Caine’s killer otherwise, might not learn what happened to the Chief’s daughter.
She walked past security and began to ascend the stairs, picturing herself stumbling down them the previous night. She suddenly felt queasy again. She made the second-floor landing, tainted green with the Bio-Lume glow, moved to the elevator and waited. The doors opened, two people stepped out, and she stepped in. The doors closed and she was alone as it ascended. She swallowed hard, fighting the feeling of claustrophobia, the sensation of her stomach swirling. She caught her reflection in the mirrored ceiling and looked up. Her hair fell back a little and she saw no trace of the marks from the neural devices. She hated the fact they had controlled her the previous evening, had taken over her brain. She pictured Erica standing by her console, thought of the Subjugates at the Solme complex, of her evangelist parents, of how she’d sworn no one would ever control her again. And they had. Chaney had.
The doors opened and she stepped out into the Ceiling. She took a breath, exhaling her anger and softened her features. She walked forward, saw the large white angel spread out behind the bar, and scanned the lounge for him.
“Sarah,” his voice said from behind. She turned around and saw him walking toward her across the dance floor. Her eyes darted to the secret doorway in the corner of the room and she wondered whether he’d come from Diabolique or if he’d come from his offices upstairs.
“Hi,” she said meekly.
He stared at her but said nothing. She stepped toward him.
“I wanted to apologize for running out last night. I… don’t know why I did. I guess I just kinda freaked out a bit.”
He continued to stare at her. “I thought you wanted to take a ride on the edge?”
“I did. And I still do,” she softened her features even more. “I’m so embarrassed… I just got taken by surprise. You left and then I was on my way to the bathroom and Erica just stuck me with the needle. I wasn’t expecting it.”
“Yes, you were. That’s why you were in that room.”
His face was hard, his features unfriendly.
“I hope you’ll give me a second chance,” she said, adding warmth to her eyes along with a sexy smile.
“No,” he said, stepping forward and hitting the button to open the elevator doors. “It’s time you leave.”
She took another step toward him. “Lance, I–”
“What have you done with the devices you stole?”
“I… threw them out.”
“You’re a security breach. You signed the non-disclosure agreement. That included the return of all items used for disposal.”
“Oh, I… I can get them. Bring them back.”
He took her arm and guided her firmly back into the elevator. “You will not set foot in this club again. You will destroy the devices. You will never speak of what you’ve seen here. And you will never contact me again.”
He moved her further into the elevator, pressed the button again to close the doors, then walked away.
And as the doors closed her eyes fell on the ponytail guy, sitting in the lounge, staring at her.
“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath as she stepped out onto the street again and walked away. She supposed she should be glad nothing had happened to her, but at the same time she knew she’d blown her ticket with Chaney, and maybe even her chance at finding out what happened to Caine on the last night of his life. She glanced over her shoulder with lost hope to the door and saw the ponytail guy step out onto the street. He began heading her way.
She turned and continued walking, curious. After a while she glanced over her shoulder again and saw he was closer, eyes fixed on her. She reached into her purse and opened her power compact, then closed it again, initiating the beacon housed inside. She saw a corner up ahead and abruptly turned down it. The street was dark, but she didn’t care. She glanced back and saw Ponytail turning down the street behind her.
“Shit…” she whispered, opening the compact again, sending the emergency signal from the beacon.
“Stop!” he hissed.
She did and turned around.
“What do you want?” she asked, hand still in her purse.
“Easy,” he said, eyeing the purse. “Hands where I can see them.”
“Or what?” she said.
“I just want to talk,” he said.
“Yeah? About what?”
“About what you’re doing here, Detective Brentt.”
Salvi’s face fell as she stared at him. She didn’t know him, so how did he know her?
“Who are you?”
He reached into his jacket pocket.
“You go easy!” she barked, pointing at his hand.
“Relax,” he said, moving slowly. He pulled