Even as he watched, the class ended. Jack didn’t move as Harmony chatted with a few of her friends before vanishing out of his line of sight and presumably downstairs. Uneasy, Jack resettled himself against the maple tree growing smack-dab in the middle of the walkway. According to urban legend, the tree had been growing out of the abandoned building when the developers had moved in. It had been allowed to remain, stretching to the distant glass ceiling as a reminder of how fragile man’s works were. It was Peri’s favorite spot in the mall—he had no clue why. An unexpected flash of angst lit through him at the reminder of her.
Perhaps Peri wasn’t the only one conditioned to never be alone, he thought, then threw his half-empty cup away in disgust, deciding to blame his unease on his lack of a weapon. Outwitting TSA was a hell of a lot easier than bypassing the mall’s subtly integrated but efficient weapons detectors. Fortunately not all the toys in his pockets went bang.
There was a soft chime and the receptacle beside him shifted from white to black. It was full, and with a slow movement, it began to move to the nearest reception niche for cleaning. Jack watched it go, his mood lifting when it stopped short, stymied by two boys messing with its obstacle recognition software until their mother jerked them out of its way.
The crowd at the end of the hall cheered at the rising, complex rhythms coming faster from the freestyle concert. The memory of his and Peri’s last vacation flitted through him, the way she had found common ground with people so far from her. He didn’t understand how she could do that and still not love him. He hadn’t lied to her about his feelings; she had just extrapolated far beyond what they actually were.
Eyes going to the dojo’s first-floor door, Jack straightened his newly purchased tie, glad he knew people here, people who would float him a suit without question, three years of healthy tips keeping their mouths shut about his ever having been in. A faint smile crossed Jack’s face. Detroit wasn’t his city, but he knew his way around her underskirts almost as well as Peri did. He chuckled when a memory intruded, of him and Peri at the big billiard hall over where the executive offices had once been. They’d capped the evening off with drinks and dancing in the members-only club. The view of Detroit always turned her soft and compliant—daring.
Jack’s smile faltered. He had to get Peri back. He had no intention of retiring, and he’d become too accustomed to being bulletproof.
Good mood broken, he sat down on the ironworks bench, his knees spread wide as he waited. He didn’t need Harmony; he wanted her was all. The woman was a source of information, a buffer for when he found Peri, and cannon fodder in case there was trouble. This doubt that gnawed at him was becoming tiresome.
He hadn’t lied when he told Bill he thought he could flip her back to Opti, but now he wasn’t so sure. The lure of remembering wasn’t as strong as Bill thought it would be. She didn’t need them. Didn’t need him. And that was more than dangerous, it was potentially deadly.
He was nothing without Peri, an easily replaced cog. Only with her could everything return to as it had been. He might have romanced an understanding between them by promising to go ghost with her, but neither one of them would be able to stand such a mundane life. He just needed to get her away from Denier long enough for her to remember how good they had been. If that failed, he’d scrub her. She’d thank him in the end. And if she wanted Bill dead, he would keep that option open, too. Maybe then she’d believe him.
Finally Harmony came out of the dojo, hesitating with her friends before the door. Jack’s eyes narrowed in concern, watching from under the drape of his bangs, but the thin woman in her colorful leggings said good-bye and went the other direction, a heavy tote bag over her shoulder and a sassy sway to her hips as she wove through the shoppers.
Sucking his teeth, Jack rose and fell into step behind her, careful to keep her red cap just in sight. He was glad to have had the chance to see Harmony in action. Peri had taught him a healthy respect for what a woman could do, and he was used to maintaining a delicate balance of restraint without injury when dealing with them. He had Harmony on weight if nothing else.
He almost lost her as he fended off two saleswomen trying to lure him into sampling a fragrance. The slight pause in motion triggered a trio of holographic mannequins from the upscale clothier, and they shifted to match his day-old stubble and tailored suit, trying to lure him in. It jerked the passing bevy of ogling girls to a stop, slowing him even more.
Peeved, he pushed past them, leaving giggles and requests for his number in his wake.
His breath quickened as he hustled to catch up. Adrenaline trickled through him, and he sent his eyes to the droneway high at the ceiling, the stream of low-Q drones and their payloads looking like Hogwarts owls. Just below them, the fixed cameras recorded a four-hour loop of happy shoppers before they began to rewrite over themselves. As long as he was quiet, all evidence of his presence would be erased by midnight.
Still, his pulse was faster than the small task warranted, as if failure here would translate into failure everywhere. His anger slowly grew as justifications began flitting through him. He didn’t need Harmony’s help, but he wasn’t used to working alone, either. A second pair of eyes, the comfort found from two predators as opposed to the solitary hunter—both would be helpful. She’d be the easily sacrificed tail of the team so he might survive.
He almost missed it when the woman strode confidently into a narrow hallway, a highly monitored, underground shortcut to one of the other buildings and the elevated rail. It might be empty, the break in the weather drawing most people into the skyway and the view of Detroit.