“To being competent.” Sydney raised her drink to him.
“To being competent,” Niall answered, clinking glasses, and nodded at her. “Make me proud, kid.”
By the time they arrived at the stadium, the lines and clusters of fans on the streets had turned into a tidal wave, and as their car passed by, the wave seemed to crash against the concrete barricades lining the road, the thousands of people shrieking in delight at the sight of them. Some wore the augmented reality glasses that were required for watching the Warcross Opening Ceremony; still others likely had the contact lens version, as Sydney watched them gesture or wave at things she couldn’t see. Their driver honked irritably as people at one walkway jumped over thebarricade to get in the middle of the street, prompting officers to force them back.
“The games are even more popular than I remember,” Gavi mused from her passenger seat. “Wasn’t there a scandal a few years back?”
Today she looked even more resplendent than usual, her dress an ocean of lemon-yellow silks complemented by delicate gold jewelry. Sydney never cared about her clothing when she was undercover, but she couldn’t help feeling a little self-conscious this time in her black suit.
“They restructured after their previous CEO was arrested—a data breach of some sort,” Sydney answered. “Doesn’t mean people stop liking something, though. Haven’t you played before?”
“No. I don’t do games—at least, not online ones.”
“Well, think of it as virtual soccer, with dragons. It’s even bigger in Asia than it is overseas.”
“I’ll say,” Gavi replied as she stared out the window.
As they made it through the jam and sped up, Winter rolled down the window just enough to stick one hand out and wave. The gesture sent the crowd into a frenzy.
They drove through a private gate leading into the stadium, where the crowds finally were forced back, and stopped before a small entrance. Here, a guard opened the door for them, and Sydney stepped out to wait for Winter. As he emerged with Gavi on his arm, she fell into step behind him and headed into the building, yellow silks floating behind her.
“This way, miss,” one of the guards told her as they walked along the stadium’s interior hall. “Mr. Young, you’re headed to the stage.”
Winter approached her and held out an earpiece, along with a sound clip. “Here,” he said.
Sydney took them. “Test?”
He nodded, then waited as she plugged the piece into her ear and clipped the sound device to the back of her trousers. As she did, Winter put in an identical earpiece, then walked around her to touch the deviceclipped to her. His fingers briefly brushed against the edge of her pants; she felt the slight pressure of them and shivered in spite of herself.
“Testing, testing,” he said in a low voice. “Hear that?”
The sound came in crisp and clear from Sydney’s earpiece, a near-perfect echo of Winter’s voice. She nodded. “Testing, testing in return,” she replied.
He turned the knob a little on her clip, then went to his own, adjusting it until he finally nodded. She couldn’t help studying his serious expression for a minute, the way his hair fell over his eyes as he tilted his head down in concentration.
Behind him, Sydney saw Gavi watching them impatiently with her arms crossed.
“If I see anything suspicious from the box,” Sydney told him, “you’ll hear it in your earpiece. Do the same if you spot something in the crowd that makes you uncomfortable.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured with a slight smile. “Hope we don’t hear from each other until the concert’s done.”
“That’s the plan,” Sydney replied, answering his smile with her own polite one. Somehow, the eyes of their security team felt like more than she could stand. She took a step away and nodded toward the stadium, where fans were leading each other in rounds of chants and cheers. “Good luck out there,” she said.
“You too,” he replied. He gave her a polite hug, but as he pulled away, he murmured in her ear, “Stay safe.”
Her stomach fluttered again at the warmth of him near her, of his concerned words. She nodded, unable to find the right reply.
Then the rest of Winter’s security staff gathered around him. He cast a final glance over his shoulder at Sydney before he turned away and headed down the hall toward the practice rooms.
Sydney walked slightly behind Gavi as they were ushered in the opposite direction. She’d been in stadiums before, but never one like this.The walls looked alive, their surfaces curved screens that responded to their presence as if aware of them—images of flowers bloomed as they walked by, along with music notes and specialized ads for luxury perfumes and couture outfits. Even the floor reacted to them, glowing pale blue under their every step.
At last, they headed down a flight of stairs and emerged through a lush entrance draped with real plants. Sydney found herself standing in a spacious box with a balcony that overlooked the stage, with a spectacular view of the rest of the stadium.
Already, most of the seats were filled, while on the stage below, she could see workers testing an enormous prop of Winter’s logo, a rabbit with ears shaped like two halves of a broken heart.
Gavi left Sydney’s side without a second glance, her attention focused on the many important people in the room. Sydney watched her go, noting the way the girl’s chin tilted higher, her poise sharpening as she entered her element—charming her way through a circle of strangers. Already, she could see one of the gentlemen turning in Gavi’s direction, chuckling as she grabbed a drink, pointed down toward the stage, and said something with an affecting grin.
She couldn’t help feeling a little respect for the girl’s fearlessness. Sauda would like her.
