Between Burning Worlds (System Divine #2) - Jessica Brody Page 0,217

had all felt so easy. So straightforward. But the distance had clearly softened her perspective. Her anger at discovering what the general was planning had placed a hazy filter on the reality of the situation.

A reality that hadn’t fully hit her until they’d passed through the gates of the Grand Palais. Until the memory of the last time she’d been here stabbed her like a knife. Now the responsibility, the gravity of what they had come here to do was finally sinking in. And it dragged on her body even more so than this ridiculous dress.

She gave Marcellus a small, hesitant nod.

“Yes,” he replied to Cerise through his audio patch. “We’re ready.”

They continued to follow the throng of banquet guests toward the entrance. Chatine tried to take deep breaths to settle her nerves. She’d performed a thousand cons in her life, but never one of this magnitude. And never in shoes this tall.

“You’re doing great,” Marcellus whispered to her. “You totally blend in.”

“I feel like a pastry,” she whispered back.

“A very elegant pastry,” he amended, and Chatine was grateful for the humor. It immediately put her at ease. “Of course, I do miss the Fret rat look.”

Chatine shrugged. “What can I say? Black is my color.”

The entrance to the Ascension banquet was a long archway made of tiny flowers and fluttering leaves. Chatine and Marcellus joined the queue of guests waiting to pass through the security checkpoint. Up ahead, five officers in bright white uniforms stood guard, the glistening rayonettes strapped to their belts making Chatine’s heart flutter.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” she whispered hotly into her audio patch. If any one of those officers recognized her or Marcellus, this would all be over before it even began.

“Calm down,” Cerise replied smoothly. “Everything is set up. It’s going to work.”

Chatine didn’t like the fact that their entire mission was dependent on this Second Estate girl she barely knew who claimed to be a hacker. But Marcellus and Alouette seemed to trust her, and so Chatine had had no choice but to go along with it. If it had been up to her, they’d be climbing walls in dark camouflage. Not walking right into the lion’s den dressed like brightly colored pieces of meat.

“Skins, please,” said a deep voice.

They had reached the front of the line, and Chatine looked up to see two officers brandishing TéléComs toward them.

“Second Estate,” Marcellus clarified in a voice that sounded nothing like his own.

“Biometrics, then,” the guard said.

Chatine’s heart started to pound as she dropped her gaze, figuring the less eye contact the better. Marcellus gave her an encouraging nod before confidently placing his palm against one of the outstretched screens. Like it was nothing. Like those screens couldn’t reveal the truth about both of them in the blink of an eye.

Convict.

Traitor.

Escaped from Bastille.

Wanted by the Regime.

Chatine swallowed hard, removed her right glove, and extended her hand. She nearly recoiled at the touch of the TéléCom. Was it just her imagination or was it burning hot? As the screen glowed orange under her fingers and the scan initiated, Chatine’s mind flashed back to every other time she’d been scanned. Tracked. Logged. Marked. She’d stood under the watchful eye of cyborgs, succumbed to the degrading searches of officers, suffered the invasive inspections of droids who would just as soon bash in her head as let her go.

Her entire life was a seemingly endless collage of Ministère surveillance.

And now, for the first time, she was offering it up willingly.

“Okay, I’ve got you,” Cerise whispered in her ear. “Your biometrics are coming in. I’m routing them through the network bridge now and transmitting your fake profiles.”

Chatine tried to release the breath that was caught in her chest, but her lungs seemed to be holding it captive. All she could think about was what would happen if Cerise’s hack failed. If this scan revealed the truth. Her real profile.

A shrill beeping sound cut through the air. Panicked, Chatine glanced back down at the screens of the TéléComs to see they had both turned red. She shared a fleeting look with Marcellus, silently asking which direction they should start running in.

“That’s strange,” one of the officers said, frowning at something evidently being reported into his ear. “Your biometrics aren’t seeming to register with the—” The beeping sound came to an abrupt halt and the angry red screens turned instantly back to orange. “Ah, here we are.” The officer looked up and flashed Chatine and Marcellus a smile.