Perfect Gravity (Wanted and Wired #2)(47)
“I’m gonna go walk the cat. Might wander around some. Meet me back at our room in twenty.”
He didn’t confirm instructions for a long time. Angela’s implanted com vibrated, and she tapped it. She didn’t need to read the update. Chloe had told her all the juicy parts already. What she wanted to do more than anything right now was locate Kellen—for purely tactical purposes, right?—and discuss whether this evidence was irrefutable enough. Whether he and his team would support some move on Vallejo.
She wasn’t even sure how that would play, since she technically didn’t have any authority. Or any drones. Or access to her cloudcoin accounts. Basically, she was a refugee, just like most of the rest of the Pentarc. But that wasn’t going to stop her from kicking Vallejo in the ass when his back was turned. Even if she had to hoof it into Texas in her swoofy pink pillow shoes.
Angela woke Yoink and helped her to the ground. Kitty could jump on her own, but Angela found herself treating Yoink as she always had, with extra care for an aging friend. It didn’t matter that this Yoink was some shiny new clone with enhanced kidneys and connective tissues. To her human, she’d always be fragile and precious.
Casually, mistress and cat strolled to the open doorway, headed in a general way for the stairs. As she passed mech-Dan, though, she held her breath. Couldn’t have said why.
But on that day, for once, her paranoia turned out to be right on target.
She was to the doorway but not through it when mech-Dan stepped in front of her, blocking her path. His gaze was locked on something in the far distance, over her shoulder, out in the desert.
Wrenching his attention to her, he half smiled, channeling Daniel so perfectly that for a moment, Angela forgot to breathe.
“Hey, girl,” he said, mimicking Daniel to within a micron of believability.
But only for a halved second.
A horrible shudder wobbled the full length of his body, a thunder sheet shaken. Something deep and mechanical caught, and he gasped. He turned his face toward her, and for one halted cosmic interval, Dan-Dan was there. Sweet puppy-dog eyes. Her loyal companion. Panicking.
“Angela,” he said through what were clearly uncooperative lips. “I need to…I cannot… Run.”
Chapter 9
Kellen watched, unable to stop a goddamn thing as Minneapolis took a hit. Fireball. Multiple buildings struck. Safe, sturdy Minneapolis. Refugees from all over the world had been flocking there for years, causing a population spike to near four million. And now, today, they’d been attacked. Four million people. Holy shit. That wasn’t the only target on fire, either. Information kept cascading in, and not a bit of it looked good. Hundreds of his tracked critters were no longer transmitting from the Twin Cities.
All nonmilitary continental transportation was halted. Martial law had been imposed in whole geographic areas. The UNAN was on its heels, paralyzed.
Heron was already deep in the data feeds, his mouth moving as he sent subvocal messages, probably to the family and to Mari. At the same time, he watched all the screens, all the horrors at once, soaking up more data than a human ought to be able to. Possibly more than a human could stand to.
“What do we have in the air?” Kellen asked.
“I took Garrett’s suggestion and had Chloe increase her dispersal parameters and fabricate an atmospheric mirage above us,” Heron said, unflappable as ever. “Her cover is not as comprehensive as the data holes—she needs more practice—but at least our enemy’s targeting satellites won’t be able to resolve a visual on us. We must assume that our location has been compromised.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because Minneapolis wasn’t a random target,” said Heron, his voice threaded with something sharp and dark and scary as hell. “When things got hairy back in October, Mari sent her—”
“Boo.” The word came out instead on a ragged breath as Mari skidded into the Vault, the expression on her face echoing the sharp scary in Heron’s voice. “What’s going on with my aunt Boo?”
Her gaze found the live feed from Minneapolis just as Heron said, “Querida. That’s a live feed from Minneapolis. Where Princess Bubbles lives.”
Kellen didn’t mind a good, strong swear from time to time, but Mari said a few things right then that near curled his hair.
Heron opened his arms, and Mari folded herself into him. Curled against his body, she went completely still. Silent, too. Kellen couldn’t tell if it was grief or fury, but something rode her hard.
Heron caught Kellen’s gaze above her dark head. “Aunt Boo went to stay with someone in Minneapolis when things went sideways a couple months ago. For safety. On face value, that would seem to be a coincidence, but…”
“Coincidences usually aren’t,” Kellen finished. “Vallejo would know about Aunt Boo’s friend, wouldn’t he? Would he be pissed enough to target her?”
“Is she in there?” Mari cut in. She didn’t raise her head, and her voice was muffled, but Kellen heard her words clearly. “Is she dead?”
“I’m retrieving data packets as we speak, querida,” Heron said into her hair. “We will know before anyone else. Kellen’s network has the best eyes and ears on the planet, better than drones even.”
Kellen was already on it, tapping a com message for Yoink: Need you in the Vault. Now.