Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,211

and above their heads, a vast chandelier bloomed with a thousand tiny crystals. They passed gilt-framed paintings, opulent handcrafted sculptures, and a sprawling, intricately woven rug that led to the base of a sweeping staircase.

In her arms, Alouette held tightly to Dr. Collins’s canister like it was a lifeline. And it was. It was crucial to their plan. Tonight, that one remaining vial of inhibitor would mean the difference between life and death for a lot of people.

“Are you sure your parents aren’t going to come home?” Chatine asked, still gawking at the interior of the house as though the walls were crafted out of pure titan.

Cerise snorted at this. “Come home? Right. Now that would be a surprise.”

“Your parents don’t come home?” Chatine clarified. “Ever?”

“Well, not like ever. I mean, Maman does need a place to unpack and repack her suitcase. But mostly never. Papa practically lives at the Ministère headquarters, and Maman prefers Samsara this time of year.”

“You mean,” Alouette began cautiously, peering into a vast salon with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over a sparkling blue-water pool and sprawling green lawns, “you live here alone?”

“Pretty much.” Cerise beckoned for them to follow her up to the second floor, and as Marcellus climbed the steps and glanced back over the railing at the magnificent marble foyer below, he suddenly noted the emptiness of it. The coldness of it. Their feet on the stairs echoed across the great manoir like there was nothing around for kilomètres to stop the sound.

They reached a large set of double doors at the end of the hallway, which Cerise opened with a flourish. Stepping inside, she threw out her arms. “And this is my room,” she announced.

The bed chamber was large and filled with light from its ribbon of high-arched windows. A vast canopy bed covered with a mountain of colorful silk pillows stood like a regal centerpiece in the middle of the room. Paintings lined every wall, and a deep-pile rug sprawled across the polished floors.

“It’s … nice,” Chatine muttered. She looked extremely uncomfortable inside the room. Her hands were tucked into the pockets of her gray-and-white Défecteur pants and her elbows were pinned to her sides, like she was afraid of knocking into things.

“But the piece de résistance is in here.” Cerise led them through a door, and their jaws all immediately dropped open at the sight in front of them. Technically, the room could be described as a closet. But it was unlike any closet Marcellus had ever seen before. There were racks and racks of shoes of all shapes, styles, and colors. Pristine leather handbags were displayed behind illuminated plastique panels. Every centimètre of hanging space was filled to the brim with blouses, skirts, and dresses in every shade and fabric Marcellus could imagine. And, on the far back wall, were floor-to-ceiling shelves stocked with more gadgets than he’d ever seen outside of the Cyborg and Technology Labs.

“Holy fric,” said Chatine. Her eyes were as wide as moons. She turned to Cerise with what could only be described as admiration. “You’re like a Second Estate croc.”

Cerise grinned. “Merci.” She spun around and plucked a gadget from one of the bins on the back shelf before placing it atop a chest of drawers in the center of the room. A moment later, the device glowed to life, and a large-scale hologram map of Ledôme fanned out across the closet.

“Okay,” Marcellus said, stepping forward to take command of the map. He zoomed in on the Grand Palais. “The Ascension banquet starts in two hours. Here. On the Imperial Lawn.” He pinched his fingers, directing the hologram to a large swatch of bright green grass that stretched out behind the Palais. “Chatine and I are going in as guests. We will enter here, at the main security checkpoint in the administration wing.” He zoomed in farther to reveal a courtyard at the far end of the Imperial Lawn, opposite the Palais’s main building.

“That’s where your biometrics will be scanned,” Cerise added, “and cross-referenced with the guest list.”

“Are you sure you can pull this off?” Marcellus’s heart raced at just the idea of getting anywhere near a Ministère scan.

Cerise flashed him an annoyed look. “Haven’t we been over this? Expert hacker, right here.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if we just scaled a wall or something?” Chatine asked, looking anxiously at the map.

Cerise huffed. “Trust me. I got this.”

“All right,” Marcellus said, trying to capture air in his rapidly constricting lungs. He turned to Chatine.