“We should move,” she said. “While they’re distracted.”
“Right.” I pulled back, giving her room to reach the panel. “Yes.”
She opened it carefully. The corridor was empty. The guards had moved toward the junction, following the sound Flinx had created. She slipped out of the shaft and I followed, both of us moving quickly, silently, away from the area.
We didn’t speak until we were back in the safer section of the tunnels. Away from patrols. Away from cameras. Away from the immediate threat.
Flinx appeared from a side corridor, his optics back to full brightness. He jumped onto Carys’s shoulder and made a sound that could have been smug satisfaction.
“Thank you,” Carys told him.
Her eyes glazed, just a little, the way they always did when she and the construct spoke.
“He says we’re idiots,” she translated.
“He’s probably right.” I straightened my jacket. “That was too close.”
“The patrol or what happened in the shaft?”
“Both.”
She looked at me. Her expression was unreadable in the dim lighting. “Listen. We keep this professional.”
“Agreed.”
“No distractions. No complications.”
“Absolutely.”
“Good.” She turned toward the exit ladder. “Because I’m not interested in being another one of your cons.”
“You’re not a mark.” The words came out before I could think them through. “You’re the most real thing I’ve encountered in years.”
She stopped at the ladder. Didn’t turn around. Just stood there, processing.
“In two days,” she said finally. “Evening. Don’t be late.”
She climbed the ladder and disappeared.
I stood in the empty tunnel, my fangs still aching, my hands still remembering the shape of her, and wondered if I’d just made this heist significantly more complicated.
Probably.
Definitely.
But I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.
CARYS
Renna was late.
I waited in the junction, checking my slate for the third time. Seven minutes past our scheduled meeting. Uncharacteristic. The Merrith ran her operation on precision timing, the kind that came from years of surviving in spaces between official notice and criminal consequence.
Flinx sent from his perch on a pipe overhead. His sensors tracked the tunnels in both directions.
“Or she’s being cautious.” I pocketed my slate and checked the components I’d brought for trade. Environmental access codes, updated through this morning. Medical supply manifests from the villa’s inventory system. Information Renna could monetize through her network.
Footsteps echoed from the east passage. Light, quick, the distinctive rhythm of Merrith movement. Renna appeared around the corner, her six-fingered hands clutching a wrapped bundle against her chest.
