False Hearts (False Hearts #1)(73)

His fingertip moves from the scar to circle my left breast, teasing the nipple until it stands upright. He bends his head and I stare up at the ceiling, gasping slightly.

Bang.

We both start. His head jerks up, and I squirm to a sitting position.

The sound came from downstairs. It sounded like a gunshot. People scream.

“Was that—?” I start, but then my question is answered by an outpouring of screams, more gunshots, and the stampede of fleeing footfalls.

He jumps away, reaching into a cabinet under the alcohol bar and drawing out a weapon and a bulletproof Kalar jumpsuit. I have a feeling they are hidden in every room. What that means cuts through the fear for a moment: this is a man who always expects an attack.

Ensi wriggles from the remainder of his clothes, his lithe body catching the light before he covers it with the black fabric. He hefts the gun, not quite pointing it at me.

“Were you the distraction?” he asks me. There’s a tightness to his voice. Is he hurt by the possibility? How close are he and my sister? “Do you know who’s down there?”

“No.” I don’t have to feign surprise.

A long pause.

“No,” I repeat, meeting his eyes, willing him to believe it. “I have no idea what’s going on. But I’m scared shitless.” I’m shivering, folding in, covering my naked torso with my arms.

The tension bleeds from his shoulders. “Stay here.” He starts to leave, then turns back, grabs another gun and tosses it to me.

I catch it, holding the gun like it’s a snake that will bite me. I’ve had training through brainloads, and done a gun simulation, but I’ve not touched a real one. I wonder whether Tila is experienced with guns. Two weeks ago I would have sworn to anyone that she’d never even touched one. Not now.

Ensi gives me a last look and shakes his head before he pulls the bulletproof hood up, until every part of him is protected and obscured by the Kalar.

I want to ask what’s going on, but he’s already gone.

I stay there for roughly half a minute, listening to screams and gunshots, before I realize that standing there and doing nothing is not an option. I go to the cabinet, my body confused by the whiplash of fear, arousal, and fear again.

There are another few bulletproof jumpsuits hidden in the cupboard, so I shimmy out of my silver outfit and trade it for a black Kalar, pulling it up over my face. I can see through it just fine, and I feel safer.

Like earlier when I went down the corridor to the Test, I have the sensation that I’m just a floating head attached to my body. That this is not me or my life that I’m living, but someone else’s. Not Tila—more like, this is all a dream or a movie, and I’ll wake up, or the credits will roll.

But they won’t. This is me. I’m dressed in a Kalar suit. I’ve just kissed the leader of the Ratel. I’ve committed criminal acts, thinking they were real. It was all me. But I’m also not the same girl that set out curry on the table, waiting for her sister to come home from work so she could tell her about that exciting job in China. I don’t know who I am anymore.

And I have no time to figure that out.

I grab my gun and turn it over, trying to figure out how it works. I press the button and it turns on, humming slightly. It’s not a laser and has actual bullets, but it’s more complicated than the hunting guns we had at Mana’s Hearth.

I want to test a shot but the room is too pretty to destroy. I have to hope my virtual training is enough.

Before I leave the room, I remember Ensi’s jacket. I duck down and take out the notebook. The Kalar suit will hide my fingerprints. I unzip the suit enough to free my face. Will scanning work? I turn on my ocular implants. As long as I don’t try to upload it yet, I can scan the notebook. I turn each page, running my eyes along the text. Each shot downstairs makes me flinch. I want to help, but I have to finish this, first.

The notebook is his personal schedule and diary. It’s all in a code of scribbled acronyms, and I can only hope I can find a way to decipher it. When I finish, I pick up the datapod dangling from the bookmark. I set it to my ear, but, of course, it’s locked, and I don’t have time to even attempt to break the encryption. I set everything back in his pocket and arrange his jacket just as I found it.

I leave the room, peeking out into the darkened hallway. All the sounds of the melee are from the ground floor, the ballroom. I grit my teeth against the screams of pain and fear.

My mind spins. Who can it be? Is it the police? Is this why Nazarin snuck off? Was I actually the distraction against Ensi? I swear, if that man has lied to me yet again, I’ll harness my new penchant for violence and use this gun to shoot him in the leg. Or between the legs. I’ll decide when the time comes.

If he’s not responsible for this, then that means Nazarin is in just as much danger as I am. More, if he’s still down there in the ballroom.

I reach the top of the staircase. Bits of the banister are riddled with bullets. I peek over the edge. The guests are rounded up in one corner. The grand, green chandelier has been shot down, leaves and emeralds strewn along the floor. There are a few casualties scattered on the floor, sprawled out with legs akimbo, red mixing with the green. I swallow hard, memories of the vision of Ensi’s Test fresh in my mind. Of seeing Mia killed in the hologram. The death in Mia’s dream world. The crime scene in Zenith. Death and blood is following my every move.