Chapter Twenty-Nine
The implant went into Gemma’s upper arm, not far below her shoulder, and it felt like she’d been stabbed by a surgical knife. Even now, hours after receiving it, her arm ached incessantly.
Gemma’s black fibroglass ring had been upgraded to a white one, now that she was considered a true citizen of the United Planetary Systems. The ring also granted access to more areas of Zion, including the military training center, a recreation room, and a fancier pavilion that served even better food than the contestants’ cafeteria.
Additionally, Gemma was provided a flat in Zion, where she would live for her two remaining weeks while waiting for the shuttle to arrive.
A comm device was assigned to her with permissions to systems such as halo messages, live visualizations, recorded optics, and information accesses.
It was no more than a small, circular piece of electroglass that attached to her wrist via a strip of spidersilk.
But where older technologies relied on external mechanisms to function, these comm devices harnessed an individual’s internal electricity to power them.
The moment the comm device was placed on her wrist, it imprinted with Gemma’s DNA, which was the essence that powered it.
A tiny, flexible piece of electroglass sat directly upon her cornea, through which any visual messages appeared.
Any auditory messages spoke directly through the biochip behind her ear.
It was technology unlike any she had ever seen or heard of. The Systems had always had access to their DNA information, but could they also control citizens through these devices?
Gemma shivered.
After receiving her room assignment, she waved goodbye to her teammates. Though her stomach was in knots, she had to admit it would be nice to wear something other than her ridiculous gray jumpsuit.
Gemma reached her designated room and held her fibroglass ring up to a square, black lockpad. She couldn’t help but notice the camera above her door. Was it there to protect her or monitor her?
The lockpad flashed green, and when the door slid open with a whoosh, Gemma decided to let that worry rest. She had enough to be concerned about—like murder.
The room was, unsurprisingly, as sterile as the rest of Zion.
The white floors, walls, and ceiling were illuminated by white ultralights, and in the center was a white bed on an elevated platform.
Shelves were adorned with some decoration, but for the most part, her “flat” held as much aesthetic as an infirmary room.
In one of the corners, an opening led to a small bath area with a walk-in shower and a wardrobe. But instead of being filled with clothes, a highly sophisticated piece of technology sat inside.
A manual hung from a metal hook on the inside of the chest. Its title read: Costumery Instructions. With the press of a button, Gemma could view the latest designs from Capital City, and the machine would recreate it within an hour.
She raised an eyebrow. This is what was available to citizens of the Planetary Systems?
Her nostrils flared as she flippantly tossed the manual. The people on Reva deserved better. It was cruel that while they had to trade for necessities like fresh food and water, those in the Capital enjoyed luxuries like a bloody clothing machine.
Thank the stars everything was about to change.
Gemma scrolled through the available outfit choices and decided on the one she would wear to the formal party: black and sparkly, like diamonds against a silky night sky.
It was a dress her sister would pick, and it matched her poison ring perfectly. Gemma punched the Create button, her soul at ease.
Gemma had uncovered a device called a xerothermic in her bathroom that dried her hair and left her dark strands in loose curls, which she pinned over one shoulder.
It was the most beautiful her hair had ever looked, and after applying chroma and slipping on her evening gown, she decided she made the perfect angel of death.
The gown hung low on her back, exposing her spine, and the neckline was low yet still elegant, showing just enough of her cleavage to entice. The machine had also made a black-and-silver necklace that draped between her breasts.
She would make Nadine proud.
Additionally, Gemma had discovered heels for the first time and, after buckling them around her ankles, practiced walking in them—only to stumble twice and nearly twist her ankle.
“Why do people think these blasted things are fashionable?” she murmured. Already, the balls of her feet were starting to ache.
A buzz sounded from her doorway.
Via her comm device, which was apparently linked to the camera above her doorway, an image of Christian standing outside was projected directly onto the electroglass lens on her cornea.
And, stars, he was handsome.
His fitted, black suit hugged his trim, athletic body perfectly, and he’d left the top two buttons of his black dress shirt open.
Though not as formal as the gown Gemma opted to wear, the look on him was ravishing.
He’d finished off his outfit with a pair of shiny, black shoes, and for the first time since she’d shaken hands with him on day one, he’d actually taken the time to style his gorgeous, light brown hair.
Already, Gemma’s cheeks felt warm.
She opened her door to welcome him in, and Christian fell back a step, his eyes widening the moment he saw her.
The color in his cheeks flushed to a deep shade of pink. He pressed a hand against his chest. “You look . . . wow.”
She smiled. “I could say the same about you.”
Gemma kissed him the moment he was inside, her arms wrapping around his neck.
Christian’s knuckles skimmed down her naked back as he held her tight. “Keep kissing me like that, and you’re not going to be wearing that dress for long.”
She smirked, pressing her hips into him. “Maybe later I’ll let you take it off.” The more she had him distracted, the less he’d notice the quivering of her legs or the shaking of her hands.
He backed away, running a hand down his face. “Okay stop, or I’m going to have a major problem.” Christian nodded down to where he strained against his trousers.
Gemma snorted and entwined her fingers in his. “Come on. The team’s gonna be waiting for us.”
They followed the directions their comms planted onto their eyes, guiding them up a series of lifts until they were near the top of Zion. When they emerged out of the final lift, upbeat, ethereal music beamed from a wide archway.
Gemma’s heartbeat matched the rhythm as they passed through the opening. If she didn’t distract herself soon, she was going to vomit.
Inside, shades of cerulean and gold covered the luxurious room, where plush, midnight-blue couches lined shiny walls made of the most expensive golden stone. The polished dark floor mirrored the celestial ceiling, giving the ambiance that Gemma stood amongst the stars.
Her jaw fell open. She never expected such opulence inside Zion.
She spotted Hawk off to the side, seeming in much better spirits than when they’d left him in the dormitory. His black suit was also perfectly tailored to his muscular form, and not a single strand of his red hair was out of place.
He and Christian had begun to converse when Hawk’s eyes landed over Gemma’s shoulder, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing. Gemma followed his gaze as she turned around.
Imara sauntered toward them, dressed in a deep-red gown that hugged every one of her voluptuous curves. Her long black hair was styled magnificently on top of her head, and the red lipstick she’d chosen to match her dress accentuated the beauty of her russet-brown skin.
It was like the universe had exposed the goddess buried beneath the gray jumpsuit. Even Gemma flushed a bit.
Christian cleared his throat. “I’m going to go get us something to drink.”
Gemma watched him retreat, grateful for the moment of reprieve from his ever-observant eyes. She’d have to thank Imara later for giving Gemma a chance to breathe.
“Isn’t this incredible?” Imara gawked at the ballroom, her head swiveling from side to side.
“Oh, uh, yeah,” Hawk replied, snapping out of his drooling stupor. “My parents spoke about this place in one of their halo messages, but I never imagined it looked like this.”
“It is unreal.” Christian appeared next to Gemma with four drinks in his hands. He passed them out before closing the gap between him and Gemma, slipping his arm around her waist.
The gentle stroking of his thumb on her hip reminded her that she didn’t need to turn heads to be wanted. She smiled, her heart fluttering despite the twist in her gut.
She was lying to him; he had no idea he held an assassin in his embrace.
For at least twenty minutes they stood talking, waiting on the fifth member of their team, but Colton still hadn’t shown.
Odd. But then again, Colton did seem like the type to forgo formal parties. Maybe he’d opted to stay in his flat and sleep. If it weren’t for her mission—and Christian, she had to admit—Gemma might’ve done the same.
“Next round’s on me!” Hawk left their little group to find the bar.
“He does know the drinks are free, right?” Imara chuckled, downing the rest of her glass.
“I doubt he cares,” Gemma replied.
Hawk had swallowed his beverage in large gulps rather than small sips.
She had a feeling that growing up alone had equated to many nights of swallowing his sorrows.
Stars knew Gemma had been tempted many times after Nadine was gone, and she was definitely tempted to slug her drink right now to satiate the increasing jitters with every passing minute.
Where is Rami?
When Hawk returned with another round of alcohol, the four of them found spots on plush sofas and swapped stories, to which Gemma paid extra-close attention in a heightened effort to distract herself.
Several more times, Hawk and Imara enjoyed the free beverages, until the two of them were thoroughly intoxicated and falling into each other.
Hawk stood unsteadily and held out a hand to Imara. “Dance wi’ me.”
Imara flopped her hand into his. “My pleasure, siiir.”
Gemma pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh when Imara almost fell back onto the sofa the moment Hawk tugged her upright. When they were in the middle of the room, though, Gemma could barely tell they were sloshed. They both were, surprisingly, that great on their feet.
Several others also found their way to the makeshift dance floor, even though it was clearly not meant for that purpose.
Christian nudged her. “You want to?”
Gemma wanted to say no—she had to watch for Rami’s arrival.
But it would be a good way to distract Christian.
Not to mention, the nausea in her gut had only increased since she’d arrived, and sweat had already formed on the back of her neck.
Any minute, her legs would begin to bounce, and he’d start asking questions.
Yes, dancing was a great idea.
Gemma smiled and stood, taking his hand in hers, and they joined the group.
The people of Perileos had definitely learned to dance, given the lack of activities in their underground city. So, the turns and dips in which Christian spun Gemma forced her to laugh so hard that she snorted—a thankful reprieve from her relentless nerves.
And for a moment, she imagined her and Christian traveling the galaxies, her people partying amongst the stars instead of beneath a blinding, blue sun. After tonight, when her mission was complete, everything would change.