The Pale Waters (#1 Reclaimed Souls) by Della Roth

have access without my approval.
I will call for food when I require it.”
    She tilts her head slightly and a small
smile plays at her lips, giving her that perfect feline appearance
that seems so lovely and exotic while also giving me a sense of
unease. I do not know if she is a friend or foe, and I’d rather not
find out the hard way.
    “I see,” she says slowly. “What about
Roland?”
    “What about him?”
    “My thoughts exactly, Rahda,” she says
noncommittally with an unreadable expression as she pulls out her
communicator tablet, presses a few buttons, and then says, “Place
both of yours hand flat against the door.” She points to the door
to the hallway. I walk around her, see the screen—which is in some
sort of programming code—and do as she asks. The door is cool to my
touch, but after she types a few commands into her tablet, the
surface warms up considerably and just when it gets to the point
where I think it will burn me, she instructs loudly, “Pull
away.”
    My palms are red, and the door, which I do
not expect to do anything, sears my visible palm prints into its
DNA and I watch, wondrously, as the door seems to absorb them
slowly.
    “The door knows you and only you now,
Rahda. Naturally, you’ll have to open it for me now so that I may
depart your company. Though welcoming as you are, I must be about
Roland’s business.”
    Cat sounds as if she’s offended, but as she
walks unhurriedly to the door, a quirky smile plays at her lips.
Cat turns her attention to the six sets of books on the opposite
side of the room and studies them for a half second. I get the
feeling that she wants to tell me something. Something about the
other six.
    “Before you go, there’s one more thing,
Cat,” I say coolly. She turns her gaze on me expectantly. “I need
to leave the Palace Skyscraper for a few hours.”
    I can tell she did not expect this and
internally, I smile.

FOURTEEN
     
    CAT’S SMILE SLOWLY FADES. “ONCE HERE, you
cannot leave without Roland’s permission,” she says finally.
    “Sounds like your problem, not mine. Clear
it with Roland if you must, but I’m leaving.”
    Turning away, I secure the prototype inside
a lockable cabinet. I place the key on a chain, wrap it around my
neck, and then tuck it underneath my black button-down shirt. The
key is heavy and cold against my skin.
    “It’s not that easy,” she says to my
backside.
    I turn around and say, “Alben Underwood
seems to be able to come and go as he wishes.”
    Cat groans. Surely she knows I met Mr.
Underwood last night. Or maybe she doesn’t.
    “You are not Mr. Underwood, Rahda, and as
such, you are not afforded the same privileges.” She types
something into her communicator tablet.
    “Privileges? I am not owned by
Roland. In fact, the man has no claims upon me whatsoever except
for my work, and for that, I need to leave for a few hours.”
    “Do you even know how to leave the
Palace Skyscraper?” Cat’s expression says it all: I got you
there, didn’t I?
    Hm. Yes, this is a problem. I do not even
know how to find my room again, much less the front door, but
something she said last night comes to mind.
    “You mentioned that the tropical gardens are
opened to the public, yes? Well, I’ll find the way out through a public visitor entrance.”
    Cat’s eyes narrow and her pink mouth bunches
up slightly. I expect her to hiss at me like an angry cat. Her
tablet beeps just as someone pounds on the door to my lab.
    “Roland is here,” Cat announces
unnecessarily.
    “Good. You can relay my request to him.
Also, I need money.” I cross my arms across my chest. Neither of us
move.
    The knocking continues, and the booms echo
throughout my lab.
    “Only you can open the door, Rahda.”
    “He can wait a moment. How much money do you
have on you?” Given that she’s wearing a sheer fabriskin and I do
not see any sort of currency pouch on her, I doubt she can give me
what I need.
    “Only peasants discuss money. It is