Our Lady of the Ice (26 page)

“Marianella?” Eliana blurted. “Should you be—out?”

Marianella sighed. “At this point it doesn’t matter. I have to be. For Ignacio, we worked up a story to explain my survival in the dome, so I’m not officially in hiding, but—” She looked off to the side. “I’m still trying to limit my time out and about in the city.”

She sat down at Eliana’s desk without taking off her coat or scarf. “I need a favor, Eliana. As a friend. I’ll pay you for your work, of course, but this isn’t exactly what you
do
, and I can’t ask Luciano.”

“What is it?” Eliana said. She was glad to see Marianella again, glad to have something to take her mind off yesterday. She wondered about this story, though. There hadn’t been anything official in the newspaper about Marianella’s trip out to the desert.

“Do you know what the Midwinter Ball is?”

“The what?”

“The Midwinter Ball. We had one last year. It’s a fund-raiser for the agricultural domes. Essential to the cause, in some ways.”

“Is this some rich-person thing?”

Marianella gave a strained smile. “I suppose you could say that. I’m going to attend, of course. It’s two weeks away.”

“You’re what!” Eliana stared at her. “Attend? Isn’t that
dangerous
?”

Marianella sighed. The dome light shining through the blinds illuminated her face. She looked like an aristocrat—elegant, brave, stupid.

“I can’t stay in hiding forever,” she said. “And the Midwinter Ball is imperative to our success. The story we worked up is—believable. I walked out of the dome in a fit of melancholy, and one of my maintenance drones sensed danger and opened the entrance for me.” She grazed her fingers over the side of her hair. “It should elicit sympathy with the right people, and of course it’s scandalous enough that it’ll spread like wildfire while everyone’s pretending they aren’t talking about it.” She laughed bitterly.

“I see.”

“I just want to see my ag domes built,” Marianella said. “And if I have to deal with Ignacio financially—well, it’s a small price to pay, I think. Although, of course I hope I won’t. I hope he’ll just believe the stories.” She gave a weak smile.

This devotion to Hope City, to Independence, was something that Eliana knew she wouldn’t ever understand. And which Hope City was Marianella fighting for, exactly? She lived in a private dome, with her own drones and a power system that never faltered. Even now, hiding away in the park, she was protected. She didn’t understand that this place shouldn’t exist. It was unnatural, for people to live out in the ice. Marianella’s devotion seemed misplaced.

“Anyway.” Marianella slumped down a little, like a fire had died inside her. She smoothed down her skirt. “We are taking extra precautions for my attendance. Which is why I came to see you.”

Eliana frowned. She wasn’t sure she liked where this was going.

There was a pause. Marianella took a deep breath.

“What do you—” Eliana started.

“I need you to be my bodyguard.”

Eliana stared at her.

“You have a gun, of course, and a license for it. All I ask is that you come to the party with me. I’ll provide a dress and a hairstylist, anything that you need.”

“And you want me to what, shoot Cabrera for you?”

Marianella looked momentarily stricken. Then she laughed. “No, of course not. I just—if anything
happens
, if there are any
issues
, I would like to have some measure of protection.” She hesitated. “Alejo offered to lend me one of his bodyguards, but I—don’t trust any of them to keep the secret of my nature.”

“I’m an investigator,” Eliana said. “Not a bodyguard.” She rapped her fingers against the desk. The last time she’d fired a gun, she had shot someone. An andie, yes, but that memory, of his skin peeling away from the metal bones of his face, was bad enough. And Marianella still wanted Eliana to serve as bodyguard, even after seeing that? Maybe Marianella really was losing her mind.

“I would feel the safest with you.”

Marianella’s voice rang out in the cold office. Eliana fell silent, stunned by the confession. There was no way Marianella was thinking straight.

“It’s a society gala,” Marianella said. “I can’t take Luciano or Sofia.” She smiled. “I’m sure you won’t even have to pull your gun out, much less use it. And I’ll pay you, of course.”

Eliana started to shake her head, but Marianella said, “Don’t you want to know how much?”

Something in her voice made Eliana look up. The ship ticket. She wouldn’t think about leaving Diego behind. He’d already made his choice.

“How much?” Eliana said cautiously.

“One hundred up front. If you’re required to do anything more than drink cocktails and flirt with old men, I’ll pay you five hundred.”

Eliana lost her air for a moment. Five hundred. The one hundred
plus her savings would easily cover the ship ticket, but that five hundred—that was enough for her to start a proper life on the mainland. Maybe that would be the way to convince Diego to come with her.

Marianella watched her, hopeful.

“I’ll do it,” Eliana said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DIEGO

The party was on the top floor of a hotel downtown that looked out over the city. Diego ordered a whiskey and sipped at it as he stood next to the window. His reflection was a ghost over the veins of light that made up Hope City. It was an unusual occurrence, these days, to see the city lit up like this, and ever since Eliana had broken the news to him two weeks ago—the good news, the bad news, he couldn’t decide—he’d sure as hell felt like a ghost.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Mr. Cabrera speaking with a young woman in a shimmering silver gown. She kept laughing and touching her hair. Diego eased around and leaned up against the window. He swirled his drink around in its glass. You had to have one for appearances, at a place like this, but he knew better than to get drunk.

The woman in the silver gown put her hand on Mr. Cabrera’s arm and pulled him down so she could whisper into his ear. Mr. Cabrera grinned and nodded, then slipped his arm around the woman. Together they glided toward the dance floor.

Shit. Now Diego’d have to give up his spot next to the window.

He drifted along behind them, aware not only of Mr. Cabrera
but of the people around Mr. Cabrera—mostly rich old aristocrats and their sparkling wives. Nobody suspicious.

He found a new place, this time up against a wall next to an ugly abstract painting. People swirled past him, and he scowled at them each in turn to discourage anyone from trying to strike up a conversation. Not that it was necessary. Despite the tuxedo Mr. Cabrera had lent him, it was clear Diego did not belong in a place like this. Neither did Mr. Cabrera, when you got down to it, but there were some Independent-minded city politicians Mr. Cabrera needed in his pocket, just in case this whole agriculture dome thing ever happened.

“You can sit around worrying about this shit,” Mr. Cabrera had said a few hours earlier, as they’d ridden in his sleek dark car toward the hotel, Diego forcing himself to focus on his assignment and not Eliana, “or you can take some precautions. So that’s what we’re doing. Taking precautions.”

Diego had only nodded in response. He knew all about Mr. Cabrera’s ideas on
precautions.
He had been helping with those precautions for the last five years, ever since Mr. Cabrera had taken him out of the pool of errand-runners and said, “You’re practically my son. I don’t want you wasting your time with this shit.” There had even been a suggestion, never explicitly stated but often implied, that someday Diego might take over Mr. Cabrera’s business. But Mr. Cabrera’s retirement was a long way away.

Diego didn’t want to think about that possible future, though. The woman they’d thrown to the ice, this was the sort of place she should be. Standing up on the dais telling all the dancers just how welcome their contributions were.

The thought made Diego feel hollow.

Mr. Cabrera left the dance floor, the silver woman at his side. Diego took another sip of his whiskey and followed them across the party, keeping a respectful distance—close enough to see but not close enough to hear. Mr. Cabrera went over to the bar, bought his girl a drink, and then herded her toward the balcony.

Diego went along for it all. This kind of work wasn’t so bad, although watching Mr. Cabrera flirt with the girl reminded him of
the good times he’d had with Eliana. Which he didn’t need right now.

The balcony doors were closed, and when Mr. Cabrera pushed one open, the artificial wind gusted in, cold and smelling faintly of the docks. The woman laughed as her skirt fluttered up around her knees, and she put one hand on her hair as if to hold it in place. They stepped out. Diego hesitated, not sure if he should follow—but then Mr. Cabrera glanced at him over his shoulder and nodded once, his expression hard and serious.

Diego stepped outside.

It was freezing. Mr. Cabrera had led his girl up to the railing, and their voices rose and fell with the wind, pieces of laughter and stupid flirtations. Diego fumbled around in his pocket for a cigarette and had a hell of a time lighting it in the wind. When the ember flared, the woman looked over at him, then turned back to Mr. Cabrera and said something Diego couldn’t catch.

“. . . protection,” Mr. Cabrera said, which was all Diego could hear. The woman gazed up at Mr. Cabrera like she was impressed. It occurred to Diego that she might not know who Mr. Cabrera was. She might not know what she was getting into.

If he’d had a way, he’d have warned her. But he didn’t have a way.

Diego smoked his cigarette and kept his eye on the door, since he doubted anybody would be coming at Mr. Cabrera from the open air. He was almost to the filter when the girl suddenly whooshed past his line of vision and back into the building, her dress trailing out behind her like a smear of light.

Diego looked over at Mr. Cabrera, who was leaning against the railing and staring at him.

“You got another one of those?” Mr. Cabrera asked.

Diego nodded and pulled out the pack. He walked across the balcony and handed it to Mr. Cabrera, who lit one and let out a long, exhausted sigh.

“So what’d you say to make her run off?” Diego asked, joking.

Mr. Cabrera didn’t smile. “I didn’t run her off. I asked her to get me another drink.” He winked. “Needed to get us alone. It seems we have a problem.”

“A problem.” Didn’t sound like much of a problem so far. Mr. Cabrera would dance a few more rounds and then take the girl up to his room and slip that silver dress off her shoulders while Diego stood out in the hallway, chain smoking and missing Eliana. Boring. Sad, even. But not a fucking problem.

“I saw someone while I was dancing with my lovely new friend.” Mr. Cabrera leaned against the railing. The wind shoved his hair back away from his forehead, and in the glinting city lights he looked like some gargoyle on the side of a cathedral, not like a man at all. “Someone who’s supposed to be dead.”

“What?” Diego stepped forward. “Who?”

Mr. Cabrera didn’t look at him. “One of our hostesses,” he said. “I watched you kill her last month. But she isn’t dead.”

The woman. Luna. Lady Luna. It was the first time Diego had thought her name. He felt a sudden surge of relief. She wasn’t dead. Not that he could let Mr. Cabrera know about that wayward emotion. He was supposed to be hard. Brutal. That was the reason Mr. Cabrera had taken him in, all those years ago.

“She’s alive? How’s that even possible?”

Mr. Cabrera dragged hard on his cigarette. “I asked around. Something about her maintenance drones dragging her back in.” Mr. Cabrera tossed his cigarette out into the night. “A far-fetched story, don’t you think?”

“It does seem unlikely.”

“The rumors are ignoring the other possibility, of course, and rather conveniently so. It’s just as far-fetched, but it would explain Pablo Sala’s obsession with her. I’m sure you remember Pablo.”

“Yes, sir,” Diego said, heat singeing his cheeks.

“Mr. Sala claimed he had a way of
removing
her. He implied it would make it unnecessary to kill her. But maybe I took it the wrong way. Maybe it’s impossible to kill her. Maybe that’s why he phrased it the way he did.”

Silence. Mr. Cabrera watched him, waiting. This was a test, Diego realized.

And with that, all the tumblers fell into place.

“She’s a cyborg,” Diego said.

“You were always the smart one. Glad I brought you along instead of Sebastian.” Mr. Cabrera sighed. “Sala was right. Letting that out would remove her from the city. But I don’t want to remove her. I want to kill her.” He looked at Diego. “You think you can do that for me?”

Diego’s body went cold. “Here?”

“Not in the middle of the dance floor, no. But yes, I’d like it done tonight.”

Christ, this was supposed to be a bodyguarding job. Follow him around, help him get laid. Diego wasn’t prepared for killing tonight. He especially didn’t want to kill this woman, didn’t want to let go of that initial swell of relief, didn’t want to prove to himself that Eliana really was better off leaving the city.

“She’s a cyborg.”

“Not paying attention to the conversation?” Mr. Cabrera turned toward the door.

“No, I mean—how am I supposed to do it? The ice didn’t kill her—”

“She’s not a robot,” Mr. Cabrera said. “Shoot her in the brain, then shoot her in the heart. Keep shooting until she doesn’t move anymore.”

Diego didn’t say anything. His heart was racing, but he couldn’t feel the blood in his veins. He was aware of the gun in his coat pocket, a cold weight against the side of his waist.

“Just get her alone while you do it,” Mr. Cabrera said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to fetch the enchanting Esperanza and ensure that I’m seen by as many people as possible in the next few hours.” And with that, he turned and breezed back through the balcony doors, leaving Diego alone.

Christ. Marianella Luna was a cyborg. Why didn’t Mr. Cabrera just take the information public? It’d accomplish the same purpose, ultimately.

But Diego knew. It was because Mr. Cabrera held a grudge against her for those damn ag domes. Shipping her off to Asia wouldn’t satisfy it.

Diego smoked another cigarette and used that time to clear out
all his thoughts. He put his hand on his gun, reminding himself it was there.

He went back into the party.

Even though he wasn’t watching out for Mr. Cabrera anymore, he spotted him first thing, standing with his contacts. The silver woman was still on his arm. She looked put out. Probably pissed about having to delay their dalliance.

Mr. Cabrera made sure not to look at Diego as he walked past, and Diego allotted him the same courtesy. He moved along the edge of the party, scanning faces for Marianella Luna. Women’s laughter rolled over him. He felt cold, like he was still standing out in the wind. After a while all the faces started to look the same, like painted-on masks.

And then he found one that was different.

Eliana.

He saw Eliana’s face.

He thought he was imagining it at first, hallucinating some place he’d rather be. But no—it was her, wearing a slinky dress the blue of summertime glaciers, a handbag tucked under one arm. She was speaking to someone, smiling, looking like she was having a good time. A woman. She was talking to a woman. The woman turned her head suddenly, as if she’d heard her name.

And Diego’s heart stopped beating.

Eliana was talking to Marianella Luna.

Diego’s mind went blank. He could only stare stupidly at Eliana, laughing and sloshing her wine around in its glass. Why the fuck was she
here
? She was leaving for the mainland. What did she care about ag domes?

The thought flittered past, brief and uncomfortable, that she had lied to him about leaving. But it didn’t make sense, and so he forced it down.

She hadn’t seen him yet. Diego backed away, finding a quiet corner behind a potted pine tree to consider his options. Mr. Cabrera wasn’t going to let him get away with not killing Lady Luna just because his girl was here. He’d have to separate them, get Eliana away from Lady Luna. He could send her down to Mr. Cabrera’s room, maybe. Mr. Cabrera wouldn’t be down there until he was
certain the deed was done. But when she found out Marianella Luna had died tonight, while she’d been tucked away, she’d figure it out. The girl was practically a cop. Plus she was smart.

“Shit,” Diego whispered. He scanned the room, sweat prickling on his forehead. Mr. Cabrera was still talking to his contacts and the woman in the silver dress. Not paying him any mind.

Diego wanted to leave.

The idea stunned him. Even knowing Eliana hoped to go to the mainland someday, he hadn’t thought that way since he was a teenager, when Mr. Cabrera first took him under his wing. Back then he’d struggled against Mr. Cabrera’s discipline. There hadn’t been any murders, any guilt over women thrown to the ice. He’d only wanted to leave because he hadn’t been used to someone caring about him enough to smack some obedience into him.

But this was different. This wasn’t walking out because he was some asshole kid. It was walking out because he couldn’t handle his instructions. And at this point in his life, he didn’t have that option. If he left the party, Mr. Cabrera would find him before winter ran out and Diego could flee the city with Eliana. It’d happened before. Mr. Cabrera had in fact sent Diego to take care of the man who had tried to leave.

Lady Luna and Eliana split away from their group, walking toward the bar—and walking right past Diego. No. Shit. It was too soon. He didn’t know how to deal with this situation, and Eliana was turning her head, she was smiling, she was seeing him.

“Diego?” She stopped in place. Marianella Luna kept walking like she hadn’t noticed. “What are you doing here?”

“Got an invitation.” He slid forward and took her by the arm. “Wanna dance?” The first thing that came to his mind. Stupid. When Mr. Cabrera saw, he’d be livid.

“I can’t.” Eliana frowned, and he saw the hurt in her expression that he had turned away from to avoid when he’d walked out of her apartment two weeks ago. “I’m doing something.” She glanced over at Lady Luna. Diego did too, without thinking. She was ordering at the bar. “This is really strange, Diego. You just—
leave
, and then you show up here?”

She knew. Not the exact assignment, but she knew he was working. She had her head tilted at an angle, and her brow was furrowed with deep lines.

He wasn’t going to bother to lie.

“You’re not the only one with a job,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. He watched Lady Luna out of the corner of his eye. The bartender was bringing Lady Luna her drinks, a couple of wineglasses glowing red in the light. “Who’s your friend?”

“You don’t recognize her?” Eliana gave him a hopeful smile. “Really?”

“No. Should I?” Lying to Eliana, about this, was harder than he’d expected. “She one of your clients?”

He saw Lady Luna turn. Saw the expression on her face ice over.

“Eliana.” Lady Luna appeared beside them. She kept her gaze on Diego. It was sharp enough to kill. “We need to go.”

And Eliana’s face transformed completely. The hope glittering in her eyes blinked out, and she gave him a look so dark and accusing that he had to turn away.