Zora nodded and reached for her mic to unmute it.

“Our target just left the table,” Taye said sharply. “I think he’s getting a drink. Drew, are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“Wait—” Zora cursed and jimmied her mic. “Hold on, you two!”

“Taye is approaching,” Drew reported in a whisper. “What’s wrong, Zora?”

She let out a hissing breath. “Be careful.”

“Taye is down the bar from him. The target is ordering.”

Zylas tilted his head toward me, listening in.

“He’s reached into his pocket … pulled out cash from his wallet … got it!”

“Got what?” I asked, startled.

“Target is looking for his wallet. He thinks it fell under the bar. And … bingo! Taye has it now.”

I clued in to what was going on: as soon as the target cultist had withdrawn his wallet, Drew had used his telekinesis to knock it from the cultist’s hand and move it into Taye’s reach.

“Done,” Taye said. “Got it again, Drew?”

“Yep.” A short pause. “Moved it under a stool. Give him another few seconds … target found it. Put it back in his pocket, not even suspicious. Perfect!”

“Meet me near the door, Drew,” Taye said.

I gave Zora an astonished stare, and she smiled ruefully. A minute passed, then the speaker in my ear crackled again.

“I’m out,” Drew declared, “and I’ve got the target’s key fob. Let’s do this!”

Zora zoomed out of our shadowed nook. “Taye, keep your distance and watch them. I want to know if they move. Everyone else, head toward One Wall.”

She strode down the sidewalk at a speed that should’ve been impossible for her short legs. I had to jog a couple steps to catch up, then puffed after her. Zylas followed in my wake like a shadow.

We reached an intersection and Zora blazed right into the road, earning a furious honk from an oncoming car. We continued onto the opposite sidewalk, heading northwest. The street, lined by large trees, widened as the short, dense commercial buildings gave way to a sprawling business district with modern structures broken up by courtyards and open plazas.

Reaching another intersection—a much busier one—Zora drew to a halt. A moment later, a woman drifted over to join us: Venus. Andrew and Gwen stopped on our other side, and scuffing footsteps announced Drew’s approach.

“There it is,” Zora murmured. “One Wall Center.”

She could only mean the building directly ahead of us on the opposite street corner, and my lips parted with disbelief as I tipped my head back, looking up—and up, and up.

A skyscraper, majestic and solitary, rose far above the surrounding structures. Its sides gently curved, forming a sharp point aimed at the intersection, and its entire exterior was covered in dark, reflective glass.

A tower crane anchored to the side of the building dampened the sleek look. Fifty stories up, the crane’s steel jib floated over the rooftop, where some sort of construction was underway.

“You stink.”

My gut plunged with alarm before my brain caught up to the fact that Zylas was speaking. I jerked toward him.

He had a hand over his nose, his dark sunglasses turned toward Venus.

She arched her eyebrows at him, then sniffed at her shoulder. “Do I?”

“Did you get that stink bomb on yourself?” Andrew asked in amusement.

Drew stepped closer to her and inhaled loudly through his nose. “I don’t smell anything.”

Zora cleared her throat. “Focus, guys. Let’s go.”

The crosswalk light had changed, and as the others followed her, I fell into step beside Zylas at the back of the group.

“She smells like thāitav kranis,” he growled under his breath. “Gh’akis.”

“I’m sure it’s awful,” I muttered, “but don’t complain. No one else can smell it.”

One Wall’s lobby was huge, the surfaces pale and shining, the ceiling two stories high. A pair of escalators led up to the second floor, where the open front of a restaurant emitted delicious aromas, and a hotel-like sitting area with slim, angular sofas was arranged near a long concierge desk.

Zora scanned the spacious lobby, then unmuted her mic. “Taye, report.”

“They’re at their table, deep in discussion. I’m keeping well away.”

“Good. We’re in One Wall now. Keep us posted.” She muted her mic again. “Venus, take care of the concierges.”

Venus strode to the front desk, where two men in suits were peering suspiciously in our direction. I couldn’t blame them. Our group was wearing a lot more leather than was typical, and we were just standing around.

She slid a hand into her pocket, then set her fist on the counter and opened her fingers. A white puff of what looked like steam ballooned outward, and the two men recoiled.

Venus murmured something, and the concierges nodded, relaxing. She spoke again, one of them replied, and they both smiled as she turned away.

“Done,” she said as she rejoined us. “They said the elevators are all keycard activated. The first two are for the hotel, the second two are for the condos, and the VIP elevator accesses the top six floors only.”

“What did you do to them?” I asked uneasily.

“Extra strong, aerosolized soothing potion. I took the antidote before setting it off so it wouldn’t affect me.”

“A soothing potion?”

“Soothing potions are completely legal.” She smiled in a slightly unnerving way. “But my dosage is … intense. They’re so relaxed that nothing will bother them for another hour or so.”

“But we still can’t waste time,” Zora said. She gestured toward Drew. “The key fob?”

He pulled a small plastic fob from his pocket and strode to the nearest elevator—a lone stainless steel door surrounded by black marble—and tapped it against the panel. A green light flashed. He pressed the call button. It lit up and a distant hum echoed through the shaft as the elevator began its descent.

We waited in silence—Zylas with his hand over his nose again—then the elevator chimed and the door slid smoothly open, revealing an interior covered in the same black marble. We piled in and the door slid shut.

Zora peered at the six button options—floors forty-two through forty-seven. “Let’s see where we end up.”

Drew tapped the key fob to the panel inside the elevator, then Zora pushed the button for floor forty-two. Nothing happened; the key fob didn’t have clearance for that level. She pressed the button for forty-three. Nothing again.

She kept pressing the buttons, and I held my breath, somehow certain which one it was.

The light for floor forty-seven, the penthouse level, glowed beneath her thumb. The elevator launched upward, shooting for the top of the building. Zylas stiffened at the sudden movement.

Jitters ran through me, my brain throwing random facts through my head. Almost fifty stories meant this building was around five hundred feet tall. How long did it take to fall five hundred feet? Terminal velocity for a human was achieved in twelve seconds, so maybe … half that? What was the terminal velocity of an elevator?

Why was I even thinking about this?