She considered how to deny what he had obviously seen, or even whether she should bother doing so. Her response was cut off when he twisted his own wrist, exposing the edge of a matching band.
Shock hit her a second time. Why would he make a point of showing her his band when he could have easily kept it hidden? Exposing vulnerable secrets was not a negotiation tactic she was familiar with. This wasn’t typical Solizen behavior. Perhaps he was more devious than she’d given him credit for.
This was yet another reason she allowed herself to remain pressed against the wall. Puzzles were difficult for her to walk away from. Unfortunately, it had gotten rather late, and she had another appointment, one she couldn’t miss. She swallowed back irrational disappointment that they’d have to part ways.
“Where’s your nursemaid?” she taunted, knowing that the question would cause him to react.
The boy frowned. “Guard.”
“What?”
“He’s my guard, not nursemaid.”
“Call it whatever you want, love,” Arden said.
His brows scrunched. Then he had the audacity to remain calm, her words seeming to slide over him like a cool breeze. Worse, he chuckled as if he found her particularly amusing. “What’s your name?”
“What’s yours?” she countered, annoyed.
“My name is Dade,” he said. His eye contact never wavered.
Arden swallowed.
Dade. Why did his name sound familiar?
“Which family do you belong to?” she asked. Identifying which of the three Solizen families he was from would go a long way toward choosing how to finish this conversation. It would also help her figure out the reason for the warning that itched in the back of her mind.
His body tensed. “It doesn’t matter.”
Right. As if that didn’t speak volumes. She pushed. “You know you want to tell me, or you wouldn’t have asked my name.”
“You have a point, but I still want to know who you are.” The grin, the constant shining smile, never wavered. Was he always this happy? What an odd thing to be.
“What makes you think I won’t lie?”
His eyes widened. “Because I’ll be able to tell.”
“I doubt that.” And for some inexplicable reason, she gave him her real name. “Arden.”
“Arden,” he repeated, his eyes sliding shut as if he wanted to savor the word on his tongue. When they opened, he looked at her with a new intensity. “Your name is as pretty as you are.”
She rolled her eyes, letting out a half huff, half laugh. She wouldn’t allow herself to be taken in by his charm.
Then it clicked: the reason he looked familiar. He was a fixture on the visicast. The gossip cams loved him. He was not just a random member of the powerful families, a cousin or kinsman, someone with little power and a big name. He was the prize, the only son of Hernim Croix, the head of the most powerful Solizen family.
She felt a flood of anger, mostly toward herself, at how she’d stepped into this position without foresight. Decisions like this led to disappointment and death. Because in the few minutes she’d spoken to him, she found herself more charmed than she’d ever been. Yet she knew she could never have another intimate moment with him. The realization came with a sadness that was silly, really.
And she’d told him her name. Arden let out a soft exhale, beating herself up with self-recrimination. She looked behind him to strategize her exit. The time had come to go, whether she wanted to or not.
They stood at the edge of the market on Level One, Above. There were no skywalks—open-air pedestrian walkways—on this Level. The ground stretched from one side to the other. She’d made sure when she confronted him to do so in an area where she could minimize attention. That turned out to be a good thing when he’d managed to gain the upper hand.
Flashing lights from neon signs were bright in the fog, beckoning customers to peruse carnal delights, and the sounds of the streets were a familiar riot of calls. It was a busy day as usual. The streets rushed with people. The sky above was perpetually dark with static smog, making anything below it freeze from the constant chill.
It seemed much colder here than where she lived because of the stiff wind that rattled through the empty space of the skyway, where the hovercars and speeders zoomed past. The city soared upward. He was from the highest of the high above the clouds where he could see the purple sky and blood-orange sun. She was from the dregs far below. They couldn’t have been farther apart if they had tried.
“As much as I want to continue this, I’m afraid I have to go,” Arden said.
“You’re not leaving.” He pressed the knife closer to her throat as if to emphasize his point. “I may not ever let you go.”
In spite of her heart lurching at the possessive heat in his voice, she replied dryly, “You think you can stop me?”
She didn’t consider using her weapons on him. There was no need. She wanted to prove a point, not escalate the confrontation. With a fluid movement, she shoved the butt of her hand into his sternum, and then slipped her foot between his parted legs, catching the back side of his heel with a quick turn. At the same time, she pulled forward, shifting him off balance.
Dade gasped for breath, stepping back to right himself before tumbling to the street, while Arden easily stepped out of his hold. People stopped to stare, forming circles around them to give Arden and Dade a wide berth. They didn’t have enough self-preservation to scatter. Instead, the pointing started.
She took Dade’s free hand, twisting it behind his back, and with her other hand, gripped the wrist holding the knife, her fingers digging into his pressure point. She cocked his wrist until the knife slipped free. When it fell, she caught it, flipping it in the air so that it pointed forward. Then she shoved him around so that his back slammed against the wall in the same spot where she had just been.
Arden held the knife to his neck, in a perfect mirror of their former positions.
They stared at each other. The moment seemed much longer than the mere second it really was. Arden calm, hands steady. Dade, his chest moving up and down, his eyes slightly too wide, and a faint blush staining his cheeks. She waited to let him go until his expression changed from surprise and embarrassment to wariness. It was the reaction she wanted to see. Yet it felt harsh and cruel, and she hated herself for it.
Her feet danced back, separating her from the growing connection between them. She hoped to sever it like she did the press of their bodies.
Dade pushed himself off the wall. He absently rubbed at his wrist as he watched her with narrowed eyes. His shoulders squared, and his body tightened aggressively.
Arden didn’t like his new attitude, even though it was one she’d purposely manipulated. It felt antithetical to his natural state. She hardened her thoughts while she flipped the knife in her hand. Up it twisted, spinning, the metal forming a whirligig as it tilted end over end, the pommel landing smoothly back in her palm. She launched it once more. “The takeaway here is that you should never underestimate your opponent.”