Their Fractured Light (Starbound #3)(29)

Gideon laughs again, though more softly this time, the sound punctuated by the creak of his chair as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Whatever you say, Dimples.”

The not-so-subtle reminder that he still doesn’t know my first name makes me long to scratch at the skin-patch covering my genetag. I take a slow, quiet breath in and out, my eyes flicking toward the screens. In the background of one, I can see a search function running—I can’t tell from here what he’s looking for, but I can see it combing the hypernet for information, gathering data here and there, collating it for easy digestion. My skin crawls, the itchiness on my forearm suddenly overpowering.

What the hell am I doing getting involved with a hacker, of all people? I should just cut and run the next time he opens that vault of a front door. When I first came to Corinth, stepping off a free ride all the way from Ivanoff Orbital Station, I’d thought I was capable of charming anyone I met into doing anything I needed.

But my first attempt at a con here cost me nearly half my hard-earned savings, and left me on the run from a guy called Thor. For weeks it was two steps forward, one step back. I took whatever I could find, whatever I could get, until I built trust with my first contacts, then used them as stepping-stones to the next.

Starting from scratch, building my contacts all over again—it’ll take months. Months I may not have, now that LaRoux Industries is on to me.

It was bad enough when they just thought I could hand them the Knave—now they know for sure I’ve seen the rift, and what it can do. And that’s enough to keep them chasing me across the galaxy. I have to find some way to get to LaRoux faster. Before he can get to me.

Maybe a hacker is exactly what I need.

“Look,” I say softly, keeping my eyes on the floor, lashes lowered. “I want to trust you, Gideon.” I let him hear the longing there—easy enough because it’s true. But wanting and doing are two very, very different things. “You saved my life back there. And I—I like you.”

“Uh-huh.” His voice is flat, dry—skeptical. Nothing like the soft murmur up on the roof.

Okay, that’s not going to work. Regroup. I’ll have to show him a few of my cards if I’m going to get to see his hand. Two parts truth, one part lie.

“I mean it.” I look up through my lashes, then lift my chin as if defying him to disbelieve me. “You know I’m a liar, you know I con people—you’re not stupid. It’s been a really, really long time since I had anyone I could trust.”

Truth.

Gideon’s eyes meet mine, then skitter away toward the far wall. His body language is obscured by the chair, but his face, at least, looks conflicted. “Me, too.”

“Maybe we can help each other, then. I need information about my father’s death, information LaRoux Industries has somewhere. And you’re after something there too, or you wouldn’t have been at their headquarters that day.”

Truth.

He doesn’t reply this time, but I can see him thinking. He wants to trust me. A good mark always wants to trust you—a good mark wants you to con him. The audience wants you to succeed. I just have to not screw it up.

I swallow hard. “All I want is to find the truth about what happened to my father.”

Lie.

“LaRoux Industries is dangerous, Dimples,” Gideon says in that slow drawl of his. “Maybe you’d be better off just leaving Corinth, changing your name again, disappearing.”

I fight not to grit my teeth. I don’t need to be told about danger. I’m a daughter of Avon—I’ve lived in the shadow of what LaRoux Industries can do almost my entire life. I’ve watched my only family destroyed by the Fury LaRoux created. I was the one back there about to have my mind wiped cleaner than one of Gideon’s data drives. And I don’t exactly imagine myself slipping away after murdering Roderick LaRoux to an easy life—my goal’s a one-way ticket. Though, of course, Gideon doesn’t know that. And no reason for him to know.

Instead of snapping, I blink at him, then lean forward so that the anger in my voice will sound like passion. “If they were responsible for the death of someone you loved, would you be satisfied just disappearing?”

He’s silent for a long time, so long I start to wonder if maybe he could tell I was angry after all. Then he lets his breath out audibly and gives an almost imperceptible nod. “All right,” he says softly. “Maybe we can help each other.”

I almost give my own sigh of relief. “Just promise me one thing?”

Gideon lifts an eyebrow, some of that amusement returning to his gaze. “Already with the demands and we’re not even through our second date.”

“Don’t tell the Knave about me.” I indicate his computer screens and their endless data streaming in and out with a flick of my eyes. “Please. I’ve survived this long by keeping to myself, and working with an ally will be hard enough. I just…I’m on your side. So long as it’s just your side. Can you do that?”

Both his brows go up this time, and he hesitates. “I won’t tell anyone about you,” he replies eventually.

I can’t help but let my breath out, and it emerges shakier than I’d like. My palms feel hot where they’re pressed against my thighs. A good actress feels some of what she emotes, but I need to get a grip. I shouldn’t care whether he trusts me or not, just whether he gets me where I need to go.