Page 4 of A Touch of Treachery
“Stop right there!”she growled.
I stopped, even as my synesthesia surged up, outlining the gun in an even brighter, bloodier red than it had Iris.I ground my teeth again.Sometimes I thought my paramortal power was total overkill, since I could clearly see the other woman aiming the weapon at my chest, and I already knewexactlyhow much danger I was in.
“Pick up the briefcase,” Iris growled again.“Slowly.”
I crouched down.My fingers curled around the handle, and I thought about snapping my arm up and using the briefcase as a weapon, but I resisted the urge.
I slowly rose to my feet.“You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“How did Henrika get her hooks into you?Blackmail, threats, or money?”
Iris’s dark brown eyes narrowed.“Money, not that it’s any ofyourbusiness.”
I jerked my chin at the gun in her hand.“You’ve made itmybusiness.”
She scoffed.“You wouldn’t understand.A Legacy like you willalwayshave a place at Section, but people like me don’t have the same luxury.”
Legacy was Section 47’s term for folks with other family members who also worked for the spy organization, either currently or in the past.If your family members did well and climbed up the leadership ranks, then being a Legacy could greatly aid your standing at Section.But if your family members screwed up, well, being a Legacy could be more of a hindrance than a help.
I’d always fallen more on the hindrance side of the Legacy equation, thanks to my father, Jack Locke, a cleaner who had died under mysterious circumstances on a Section mission roughly fifteen years ago.
“People like you?”I asked.
Iris shrugged.“Paramortals without amazing abilities.Technically, I’m a transmuter, although the only thing I’ve ever been able to do with my magic is make things sparkle.”
A silver glow flickered around her fingers, and the gun in her hand gleamed brightly in response, as though she had just polished it.Strong transmuters could change the physical properties of objects, like turning water into ice, but Iris was right about her limited magic.
“Idreamedabout being a Section field agent, but my weak, useless power got me a weak, useless job.”Iris sneered.“I’m nothing but a glorified elevator operator, taking people down to the Vault, and it’s long past time I made a career change.”
“So you took the money.”
“Absolutely.Now, shut up and stand still.”
Iris took a little better aim at me with her gun.I tensed and tightened my grip on the briefcase, ready to snap up the container and put it between me and any bullets that came my way.
The other agent stared at me a second longer, then hit a button on the panel.Instead of descending toward the Vault, the elevator rose and climbed up past the lobby.
“Where are we going?”I asked, worry making my stomach swell like a balloon in my body.
Iris’s lips pulled back into a sly smile.“You’ll figure it out soon enough, Charlotte.But for right now, just enjoy the ride.”
Afewsecondslater,the elevator stopped and dinged out its arrival on the fifth floor.The door slid back, revealing a glass wall running the length of a corridor.On the opposite side of the glass, low white plastic walls partitioned off the space beyond like a giant tic-tac-toe board.The cubicles were empty, although landline phones, headsets, and wires crisscrossed the floor like a nest of black snakes.
According to the building blueprints I’d reviewed, the call center had recently gone bankrupt, leaving this floor empty of people.A lone security camera dangled from the ceiling, but it didn’t swivel around, and I couldn’t tell if it was monitoring us—or if Gia, Diego, and the other Section agents stationed outside the building realized just how much trouble I was in.
Iris waggled her gun.“Move.”
I stepped out of the elevator.She followed and gestured for me to stop beside a high wooden table against the glass wall.“Put the briefcase down.”
I did as ordered, although I kept my hand curled around the handle.
Iris backed away a few steps, pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, and held it up to her ear.“Package secure.”
“Get the goods and get out of there,” a male voice murmured through the phone.
“Roger that,” she replied, then waggled the gun again.“Open the briefcase.”
