Aurora Rising (The Aurora Cycle #1)(67)

“Why is it making that noise?” Scarlett winces.

“Mating call, I think? Eat all your potential lady friends, I guess you get lonely.”

“Okay, okay,” Tyler says. “I think we’ve established that going in through the menagerie isn’t an option. So, front door it is. We need that key.”

“Won’t do us any good, Goldenboy,” Finian says. “It’s a polymorphic gene-modded combination sequence. That means the combination changes every time Bianchi comes into physical contact with it. And if anyone else so much as sneezes on it, the key registers the foreign DNA and locks the whole estate down.”

I feel a sort of relief at that. This mission is looking more impossible by the second. The sooner Tyler realizes we’re wasting our time on this crap, the sooner we give up this bloody insanity.

I trace the whorls and lines of ink on my right arm with my fingertips. I do that when I get nervous. When I get angry. When I need to center myself. My tats are from a dozen different artists, a rainbow of color, a collage of styles, but they all have one thing in common. The one thing I’ve loved since I was a little girl.

Wings.

Dragons. Birds. Butterflies and moths. I have a hawk inked across my back and shoulder blades, just like my mum. She was a pilot in the TDF before she got sick. I still remember the smile on her face when I told her I was joining the Legion. She told me she was proud. She said the same thing the last time I spoke to her. Wheezing it, with what little breath the plague let her take.

“I’m proud of you, baby girl.”

I wonder how proud she’d be if she saw me now. A fugitive. Neck deep in trouble. A court-martial with my name on it already sitting on someone’s desk. I know Tyler will try to take the fall for us if we get caught. I know he’ll say he ordered us to help him. But a part of me is still trying to figure out why.

He saw something aboard that TDF destroyer.

Something O’Malley did that he won’t talk to me about.

We used to talk all the time.

“And there is no way to defeat this lock without the key?” Kal asks.

“I suppose divine intervention might work,” Finian says. “But that’s not even our first problem. We can’t get close to Bianchi’s office. His estate is the most highly guarded area on the World Ship. State-of-the-art security. Hacking his cams is one thing, but we’re never getting in there without getting caught.”

Silence descends on the room. And into the quiet, Aurora finally speaks.

“I didn’t want to say anything. …”

We all look at her, expectant. She’s obviously still hesitant, looking up into Pixieboy’s frozen stare, my glower. She chews her lip, but finally speaks.

“But … I saw something in the shower this morning.”

“It’s disgusting in there,” Scar agrees. “The mold has mold growing on it.”

“No, I …” Little Miss Stowaway meets my stare. “I saw Cat.”

“Well, well!” Finian grins. “I didn’t know your creshcake was syruped on that side, Zero.”

“Shut up, Finian,” I growl.

“Hey, no judge here, kiddo. …”

“No, I mean …” Aurora shakes her head. “I had another … vision. I was feeling a little woozy, maybe from the steam, I don’t know. So I sat on the tile and rested my head against the wall, and then … I saw Cat in a mask and fancy jumpsuit. And Scarlett and Tyler, too.” She looks between us. “You all looked like you were dressed for a … party, I guess?”

“A party in that bathroom?” Scarlett asks.

“I know it sounds like it,” Aurora replies. “But it wasn’t a dream.”

Tyler leans forward, fingers steepled at his chin as his eyes light up.

“There’s a party this weekend,” he says, looking around the room. “Fiftieth anniversary of the World Ship. Bianchi is putting on a masquerade ball.” He looks at Aurora and breaks into a dimpled grin. “If we get ourselves some invitations, we can just walk into his estate.”

“Okay?” Scarlett says. “And how do we manage that?”

Tyler rubs his chin, staring at the schematic as he leans back in his chair. “I’m working on it. We’ve got a few advantages here.”

Ty’s twin raises her eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Well for starters, a gangster as murderous as Bianchi isn’t going to be expecting to get robbed. No one’s stupid enough to cross him.”

“Except us, apparently,” I growl.

Ty winks at me. “Never underestimate the element of surprise.”

“Great,” Finian says. “So we get onto the grounds. Then all we have to do is steal a key from around the neck of the most dangerous criminal in the sector, in full view of a party full of guests and his guard detail, without setting off the genetic alarms. Which will happen as soon as one of us touches the key.”

I’m watching Ty’s eyes. Watching his lips. The glow of the vines plays across his face in the dim light, and I can see his dimples just waiting in the wings. He was the golden boy at Aurora for a reason. Sure, he aced every exam. But his favorite subject was always tactics. When we were out gaming or drinking or cruising, Ty would be sitting in his room studying old dead generals. Sun Tzu. Hannibal. Napoleon. Eisenhower. Tankian. Giáp. Osweyo.