Chapter 2

I fell into a tangle of tearing claws and raking teeth. My rifle went flying and, for a moment, the sheer weight of their numbers overwhelmed me, as did their desperation to taste my flesh. It stung the air, filling my lungs with its stench and bludgeoning my mind with the certain knowledge that death would be my fate if I didn’t damn well move.

I released my hold on Jonas and surged to my feet, shaking the vampires from my back as I freed the weapons clipped to my thighs. Claws slashed at my shoulders, teeth tore into my flesh, and all I could see was a wall of stinking death on legs.

I fired the weapons around in a circle, first killing the ones ripping at my flesh, then aiming at the black mass surrounding me. Several vampires went down, each one torn apart by the ravenous creatures around them, but I shot for speed, not accuracy, and I missed as many as I got.

The chambers on the automatics clicked over to empty, and I didn’t have time to reload. I reached for the remaining machine rifle and fired in one smooth motion. The vampires shadowed and the stakes went through their vapor, thudding harmlessly into the trees beyond them.

Vampires might be insatiable monsters, but they aren’t stupid.

Energy surged across the night—my little ghosts, coming to help. Ethereal fingers tore at the pack and pulled out the flares while others reached for the stinking creatures closest to us, tossing them back into the night and forming a small but important clear way.

Then the energy riding the night sharpened and the flares came to life, lining the clear way and leading us to safety.

I grabbed Jonas by one leg, pulled him out from underneath the pile of putrid flesh, and then dragged him along behind me as I ran for the dome.

Fifty yards had never seemed so far.

The half dozen remaining vampires surged forward with us, their desperation thick and heavy in the air. One foolishly attempted to cross the line of flares, but his flesh was instantly set alight the moment the sputtering brightness touched his skin. He went up in a whoosh of flame, providing even more light, more protection.

Then the flares began to die. I hit the ring of safety provided by the searchlights, but didn’t slow. I dragged the unconscious ranger across the road, no doubt doing more damage to his back than had been already done to his front. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except getting inside the dome and switching the security system to full.

Because the vampires were now tossing rocks at the hovering searchlights.

One light went down and the shadows crowded closer. I reached the security panel and punched in the code. As I did, the second searchlight went out and the vampires surged.

The ghosts screamed a warning.

The doors began to slide open. I dove inside, saw that Penny was safe, then pulled the ranger in and punched the panic button beside the door. It slammed shut just as the black tide hit it, and the force of their weight caused the heavy metal to ring like a death knell.

It would be our death knell if the system wasn’t kicked into full gear. I leapt over the ranger and ran for the main control panel, my fingers flying over the keys as I fired the system to full life.

Glass shattered and Penny screamed.

I swung around and raised the rifle. The vampires were breaking into the dome via the fissured panels. I scanned the upper panels, wondering where the laser curtain was, then said, “Cat, get her down the stairs.”

Cat’s energy whipped away from me, spun around the little girl, and then leapt away toward the stairs. Penny followed unbidden, her fear tainting the air, as sharp as the smell of death now squeezing through the shattered panels.

I pressed the trigger and fired continually at the area that had been breached. It briefly forced a retreat, but I knew they were probably only waiting for my ammunition to run out. As a light atop the rifle chamber began to flash a warning that it was nearing empty, I glanced at the control panel. What in hell was taking so long?

The rifle clicked over to empty and the vampires surged again. I threw the weapon aside and drew my knives, the sheer blades glowing an unnatural green in the shadowed darkness. The vampires screamed, a harsh sound filled with anticipation and hunger. But as they fought one another to get through the breach first, the mesh of lasers finally unfurled down the walls, ringing the room with their deadly light and slicing any and all flesh in their way.

We were safe.

And it was all I could do not to collapse in sheer and utter exhaustion. I sheathed the knives, then bent over, my palms pressed against my bloody knees to keep them locked in position as I sucked in breath and battled the tide of relief and fear that suddenly threatened to overwhelm me.

Death had been close this time. So, so close.

The little ones crowded around me, their tingly lips kissing my cheeks and their whisperings a mix of excitement and reassurance. Amusement ran through me. At least they’d enjoyed themselves.

I took a deep, shuddering breath, then straightened. Blood dribbled from my wounds and splattered across the floor, but I ignored it. The wounds weren’t deep, and I’d heal quickly enough. Our makers had ensured that when they’d made us—couldn’t have either the rifle or bedroom fodder out of action for too long, after all.

The ranger lay where I left him, sprawled on his back near the door. Blood seeped from underneath his shoulders—testament to the damage I’d done when I dragged him—but neither guilt nor remorse plucked at my conscience. Had the situation been reversed, I had no doubt he would have left me for the vampires while he made his escape.

And if I hadn’t made that promise to Penny, I’d have done exactly the same.

“Bear,” I said softly. He whisked around to the front of me, his little form humming with expectation. He liked helping; he always had. “Could you ask Cat to take Penny to the labs via tunnel D? Tell her we’ll meet them there.”

Tunnel D was the first of the main tunnels not filled with concrete. Tunnels A to C were as impassable today as they had been when they’d first pumped concrete into this place.

Bear made a happy little noise and sped off to complete his mission. I walked across to the ranger and knelt beside him. His pulse was still erratic, but it seemed stronger. Maybe his natural healing abilities were kicking in.

Which meant I’d better get him downstairs and restrained. I’d been in more than a dozen shifter camps during my time in the war, and I’d witnessed the fate of captured déchet. I had no desire to have such destruction wreaked on me.

I dragged him up onto my shoulders again and headed for the stairs. A half dozen little forms drifted ahead of me, but most of them stayed behind to keep watch over both the security systems and the few remaining vampires who still prowled outside.

Which was odd. The vampires were smart enough to realize when their prey was beyond reach, and they’d attempted to breach this building often enough in the past to know that once the complete system was running, there was no getting through it.

So what was it about this ranger and the child that made them desperate enough to keep battering the walls and flinging themselves at the lasers?

Or did they, I wondered, remembering that odd darkness I’d sensed behind the vampires, have little other choice? Were they being controlled by something—or someone—else?

That was a terrifying prospect if true. But how could it be? It wasn’t as if anyone—human or shifter—could actually communicate with them. I’m sure vampires did have some form of language, but it certainly wasn’t one the rest of us could understand.

Maybe Penny would know what was going on—although to be honest, it didn’t matter if she didn’t. My task now was to fulfill my promise to her, then get them both out of here—and as fast as possible. Whatever they were involved in, whatever trouble dogged their heels, we didn’t need it. The world had buried and forgotten us, and I very much wanted to keep it that way.

I made my way down the stairs and into the rarely used darkness that was D tunnel. My footsteps echoed against the metal floor, a sharp tattoo of sound that my little flotilla of ghosts happily danced to. As we neared the end of the tunnel, the metal flooring gave way to undulating concrete, evidence of how close this tunnel had come to being filled. I ducked through the half-collapsed doorway into the foyer of level four, the area that had housed the main medical facilities for the bunker’s combatant déchet divisions. Several of the rooms closest to the tunnel that led up to level three had been flooded by concrete, but the rest of this level had survived intact. The medical equipment—although undoubtedly out-of-date by today’s standards—still worked. Why the shifters hadn’t destroyed these machines along with all the equipment in both the creation labs and the nurseries, I had no idea, but I’d thanked the goddess Rhea many a time over the years for that one piece of luck. I might be able to heal myself as well as any shifter, but there were still times that using a machine was infinitely better. Like when I’d fallen from the damn museum roof and broken my leg. The machines had turned a week of recovery into a day.

Penny swung around as I entered the room, and her relief was palpable.

“You’re here.”

I raised an eyebrow as I lowered the ranger onto one of the mediscan beds. I stripped off the remnants of his torn and bloodied shirt and tossed it in the nearby garbage chute, then laid him down. The soft foam enveloped his body, and the bed instantly began to emit a soft beeping sound—his heartbeat, amplified by the light panel above.

“You were told I would be. Why would you expect otherwise?”

“Because people lie.”

Yes, they did, but it was unusual for someone so young to say that with such surety. “And who has been lying to you? Jonas?”

The light panel shimmered as I pressed several buttons. Jonas’s biorhythms came up—his brain activity was high. Either he was close to waking, or he was having some pretty vivid dreams. I glanced down at his face. His eyes weren’t moving under their closed lids, but that didn’t mean anything. I pressed another button. Metal clamps slid over his ankles and right arm. I might have been bred to be as strong and as fast as most shifters, but he was a ranger, lean and muscular. It was better to be safe than sorry.

I set the scanner in motion, then glanced at Penny. She was studying me with solemn eyes. “Who lied to you, Penny?”

“The man.”

“What man?” I said patiently.

“The man who killed my family.”

I glanced at the crisscrossed mass of scars that decorated her arms, and again anger washed through me. “Why did he kill your family?”

She half shrugged. “He just did.”

“Did Jonas or the police catch him?”

“No.” She hugged her arms across her chest, as if she was trying to comfort herself. Yet there were few tears in her eyes and no emotion in her voice as she asked, “Is Jonas going to be okay?”

I glanced at the scan results. No major internal damage, and aside from the broken arm, no major limb damage. “I think so.”

“He was poisoned, you know.”

I blinked and looked at her again. “Poisoned?”

She nodded. “He told me. He said we had to get back to Chaos quickly, because only Nuri could heal him.”

Chaos. The one place on Earth I really didn’t want to go. And it wasn’t a reluctance that stemmed from the fact that its inhabitants were a broken mix of thieves, murderers, whores, and drug gangs, as well as Central’s unwanted or forgotten, all of them trying to scrape by the best way they could. No, it was the sheer and utter closeness of it all. Everything and everyone literally lived on top of one another; there was no space, no air, hardly any light, and certainly little room to move. I’d been there only once, but I’d wanted to run screaming from it after only a few minutes.

And that was where Penny was expecting me to take her—my own private version of hell. I took a slow, steadying breath, then said, “Is that where you live?”

“Nuri does. I live in Central.”

So what in hell were she and the ranger doing in the park, at night? It made no sense. “Did Jonas say what he was poisoned with? Or how?”

“He was scratched.”

Poison had often been administered that way during the war, but I wouldn’t have thought it to be practical these days. Not when the mediscan beds could detect—and treat—all known ailments and poisons. “By whom?”

“The man.”

Suspecting I’d only get a repeat of her previous answer if I asked the next logical question, I simply said, “Let’s see what the machine says before we start worrying.”

“He’ll die,” she said, in that same solemn little tone. “You promised you’d look after him.”

“I am, trust me.”

She didn’t say anything, but it was evident she didn’t exactly trust me, either. But I guess that was to be expected, given everything she’d obviously gone through.

Nothing in the results suggested the ranger had been poisoned, so either Penny was misinformed or whatever had been used on Jonas had been created after the war and therefore was not in the system’s databanks. I set the machine to HEAL. Mechanical arms reached down from the ceiling, carefully realigning the ranger’s arm before the lasers kicked in to set it.

I turned to fully face Penny. “Why don’t we go get something to eat while Jonas is patched up?”

Her nose screwed up. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am.” I gently touched a hand to her back and pushed her reluctant figure toward the door. Despite her cherub face, her skin was cool and her body skeletal. She might not want food right now, but she desperately needed it. I guided her down the hall and into the small dispensing kitchen that had once served as a break area for the staff on this level. There was only one machine working these days, and the coffee it produced was pretty vile, but it was still better than nothing. I hit the button for a strong black, then glanced down at her. “I know you’re really not hungry, but surely you could manage a small protein meal?”

She shook her head, studying me solemnly, the steadiness of her gaze oddly disturbing.

“What about something to drink? A soda? Milk?”

“You have milk? Real milk?” Her voice was surprised more than interested.

I smiled wryly. “No, not real. It’s powder-based but drinkable.”

Her nose screwed up again, and I can’t honestly say I blamed her. The powdered stuff was little more than a chemical stew, and it certainly tasted like it. But real milk was rarer than gold, and it definitely wasn’t in the price range of the average Joe in Central—even if he had a decent job and wage. And it was damnably hard to steal something that wasn’t available in the sort of establishments I could risk theft in.

I silently handed her some water, then heated a protein meal for myself, collected my coffee, and walked across to one of the small, padded benches lining the far wall. She didn’t follow, just watched me, the cup in one hand and the torn fingers on the other clenching and unclenching.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Penny,” I said softly.

“I know.”

I studied her for a moment, wondering if her unnatural calmness was merely shock or something more serious. “Why don’t you tell me how your parents died?”

“I told you, they were attacked—”

“By the man who lied to you,” I finished for her. “Do you know his name?”

She shook her head, then raised the cup and took a sip. A shudder ran through her thin frame. “That’s awful.”

“It’s recycled and does taste a little tart, but it won’t kill you.”

“I can’t drink it.” She placed the cup on the floor beside her feet, then clasped her hands in front of her stomach. “I really need to see if Jonas is okay.”

“That screen up there”—I pointed to the light screen flickering above the main door—“will let us know when the healing cycle has finished. Tell me how you know Jonas.”

“He’s my uncle.”

“You’re a shifter?”

I couldn’t help the edge of surprise in my voice. She really didn’t smell like a shifter. Jonas did—at a guess I’d say he was panther, not only because most rangers tended to be cats of some kind, but because of the mottled, night-dark color of his hair. It was the usual indicator of species. Mine was a mix of white and black, and my eyes were blue, because my genes had come from the rarer white tiger.

Penny nodded solemnly. “He’s my mom’s older brother.”

“Was it just you and Jonas who survived the attack?”

She shook her head. “Jonas wasn’t there when Mum and Dad were killed. He found me later and rescued me.”

“From where?”

“From where I was hiding from the man.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something dark and angry and very unchildlike. I frowned, once again oddly uneasy. There was something amiss here, with her, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

Yet the ghosts were watching her with fascination and absolutely no sense of disquiet. They surely wouldn’t be so relaxed if they’d sensed anything untoward, especially given that their sense of these things was usually more finely tuned than mine.

“Can you describe the man for me?”

She studied me for a minute, then pointed at me and said, “He wore combat pants like yours, but though he walked through the shadows he wasn’t comfortable in them. Not like you.”

Something twisted inside me. My combat pants had been made with a special gray material that took on the colors of its surroundings and made us near invisible from a distance. Like the shirt—also gray, but patterned with darker swirls—they were déchet specific, designed not only to withstand the rigors of war, but to carry the many weapons warrior-trained déchet were proficient with. There was a ton of both still in the base exchange and, with the war long over, I’d taken to wearing them. The only people who’d look twice were shifters who’d survived the war, and most of those generally weren’t found in the areas of Central I visited.

“So this man was a soldier?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so. He fought Jonas, and almost won.”

The twisting ramped up a notch. Only a highly trained fighter could ever hope to beat a ranger, even in this day and age. I touched my cheek. “Did he have an inked bar code here?”

Her gaze followed my fingers. “Bar code?”

I hesitated. “It would be black, and look like lots of little lines squashed together.”

She shook her head. “No. He was almost see-through, and he didn’t really have a face. Just big eyes and a squashed nose.”

So not a déchet, but something far, far worse. She’d described—almost to the letter—the creatures commonly called wraiths. They were one of the Others, but, unlike most, they seemed to have a distinct plan and purpose beyond murder and mayhem. The only trouble was, no one—as far as I was aware—had yet discovered that purpose.

But why would a wraith kill Penny’s parents and only slash her up? That wasn’t their usual mode of operation. Generally, if a wraith crossed your path, you were dead. No ifs, buts, or second chances.

The light screen above the door flickered to life, indicating the mediscan bed had finished the healing process. I tossed my half-eaten meal in the nearby recycle bin and rose.

“Is Jonas better now?” Penny said, her expression solemn as she studied the screen.

“Let’s go see.” I waved a hand for her to precede me, and sipped my coffee as I followed. The ghosts trailed alongside us, a flotilla of humming happiness. Which again made me question the drifting sense of unease within me.

An amber light flashed on the control monitor above Jonas’s bed. I frowned and pressed a couple of buttons. Though the ranger’s wounds had been healed, his vital signs were becoming unstable and there was no indication as to why.

“He’s been poisoned,” Penny repeated softly. “We have to get him to Nuri, otherwise he’ll die. I don’t want him to die. He’s all I have left.”

“He won’t die.” I flicked the screen across to view the blood work. There was nothing there—certainly no sign of any abnormality in his tox results. And yet he wasn’t waking up, and his condition was worsening.

I looked at Penny. “Are you sure he didn’t say what he was poisoned with?”

She shook her head, and I bit back a growl of frustration.

“Please,” she said. “We have to get him to Nuri. He said it was his only chance.”

I blew out a breath, glanced at the screen, then closed my eyes and said, “Okay, but we can’t go now. We have to wait until the morning.”

“But—”

“Penny,” I said, gently but firmly. “The night belongs to the vampires, and we’ll all die if we go out there now. We’ll just have to hope he hangs on until tomorrow.”

Besides, there was no way I was going into Chaos at night. In that place, vampires certainly weren’t the biggest threat to life.

Her bottom lip quivered, but no tears filled her eyes. Maybe she couldn’t cry. Maybe she was all out of tears.

“Can I stay here with him?”

“Yes.” I picked her up and sat her on the next bed. “Snuggle down, little one. The bed will keep you warm, and the ghosts will keep you company.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to check how the system is holding up against the vampires. I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded and lay down. Her eyes drifted closed and, within minutes, she was asleep. I glanced up at the light screen. Her core temperature was low, but everything else seemed to be okay. I pressed a button, setting the machine to do a full scan, then turned and headed out. Bear and Cat came with me; the others stayed behind, happily gossiping with one another. After so many years of just having me to talk to and about, I thought wryly, this had to be the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them.

I didn’t immediately go check the system, however. I headed instead down to the ninth level—the level where, in the long years immediately after this place had been cleansed, I’d taken what little remained of everyone who’d died here. The ghosts of the adult déchet had followed their bones, but the humans who’d died here had not, and I had no idea where they’d gone. I knew humans believed that while most souls moved on after death, a person who’d been taken before their time could not. Did that mean everyone other than Hank—who was the only human ghost I’d seen over the years—had moved on? I didn’t know—and, to be honest, had no real desire to find out. I might owe humanity for my existence, but I certainly owed them nothing else.

The farther down I went, the closer I got to them, the more their anger grew. They were well aware of just who I’d brought into our home.

I took a deep breath and said, “I apologize for bringing our foe into your midst, but he will not be here long. He saved the young child’s life, and you cannot harm him in any way.”

The only response was a sharpening of the anger. It crawled across my skin like fire, burning where it touched. And while I could—through physical contact with their energy—see and talk to these déchet as I might the living, I wasn’t about to tempt fate that way. Of course, they might not give me an option.

“I know you’re unhappy, but I had no choice. And the war is long ended.”

Energy surged across my skin, creating a fleeting connection that was intense and filled with hate.

It will never be over for us, a deep voice said. We were soldiers, created to kill, and death has not ended that directive.

“But you cannot kill without orders.” And even as I said it, I crossed mental fingers, because I really had no idea if that was true one hundred years down the track.

And that, came the harsh reply, is the only reason the ranger still lives.

Relief spun through me. At least that meant they were one less problem I had to worry about.

I would not, however, the voice added, bring him down here. Directives and conditioning have been known to fail.

And with that warning ringing in my ears, the connection died and the ghosts left. I retreated.

A check upstairs revealed the remaining vampires still prowled around the building, looking for a way in. While that was not unusual, there was an intensity to their movements that was troubling. It was almost as if they were being ordered to do so—and yet, I’d never heard or seen any evidence that vampire society had any sort of hierarchy.

I cleaned up the mess I’d made in the museum area, then patrolled the rest of the complex out of habit. Once I was sure everything was secure and the system was working fine, I headed down to the bunk room, where I gave myself a booster shot against whatever viruses and infections the vamps’ claws and teeth might have held. It was something I really didn’t need, but taking it at least took the stress off my body’s self-healing properties. By the time I’d had a shower and changed my clothes, a couple of hours had slipped past. Penny was still asleep, but the ranger stirred, his lean, muscular body bathed in sweat as he unconsciously fought the restraints holding him in place. A glance at the light screen confirmed his core temperature was rising.

I downgraded the bed’s temp setting, then introduced a strong sedative. He calmed almost instantly, but his brain activity remained high, and his core temp wasn’t going down. That wasn’t good, especially when the machine wasn’t picking up a reason. But then, these machines were old. Who knew what sort of poisons the world had developed since their creation?

Frowning, I turned around and studied Penny’s results. Even after the full scan, there didn’t appear to be anything unusual other than a lower than normal core temp. So why did I still have a gut feeling that all was not well?

Maybe it was just the guilt. Maybe I would never be able to look at a child in trouble and not be certain there had to be something more I could do to help.

Cat drifted into my vision. Ghostly palms gently cupped my face as her energy ran through me, full of reassurance. I smiled and kissed her fingertips, feeling the warmth in them and half wishing they could once again hold flesh. But that, too, was something that was never going to be.

I blew out a breath, half-annoyed at the sudden wash of melancholy, and walked across to the chairs near the door. Here I perched, keeping an eye on both of the monitors as the long night rolled slowly by.

Penny eventually woke and almost instantly said, “It’s dawn.”

I raised an eyebrow. I knew it was nearly dawn because my DNA was sensitive to the coming and going of the sun, but it was rare to find a shifter similarly attuned. Not when they were this deep underground, anyway.

“Yes, it is.” I rose from my chair. “Would you like some breakfast?”

She shook her head. “We need to take Jonas to Nuri.”

My gaze flicked to the readouts. He’d definitely gone downhill over the last couple of hours, but he wasn’t at death’s door just yet. “Penny,” I said, as gently as I could. “You need to eat. You won’t be any help to Jonas if you make yourself sick.”

“No!” Her voice was strident, angry, and again that darkness flashed briefly in her eyes.

I frowned, my gaze flicking to the ghosts. They didn’t seem alarmed. “Okay, we’ll go. But I need to get some supplies first, just to make sure we’re safe.”

She nodded and almost instantly calmed down. I spun on my heel, leaving her in the company of the ghosts as I made my way to a secondary gun cache two levels down. I grabbed several automatics and a couple of clips, and hid them all under a long, hooded trench that I’d stolen from Central last winter. I thought briefly about altering my appearance, but decided against it. It took a lot of energy to initiate a shift, though once achieved it was easy enough to maintain as long as I ate sensibly and slept properly. But right now, it was probably more prudent to save my strength for whatever might await in Chaos. Besides, if what I’d seen on the surface a month ago was any indication, my black-and-white-striped hair would be deemed rather mild.

I headed to medical supplies to collect an airchair. Though there was no way known I could take it into Chaos—doing so would be nothing short of issuing an invitation to be attacked—I could at least use it until we reached the bunker’s South Siding exit. The less distance I had to carry the shifter, the better.

Penny hadn’t moved when I got back. She simply sat on the bed staring at Jonas. Maybe she was willing him to live or something.

I detached him from the bed’s sensors, then carefully lifted him up and placed him on the chair. Once I’d strapped him in, I glanced at Penny. “Ready to go?”

She nodded, her little face solemn as she jumped off the bed. The ghosts swirled around, excited and happy that we were once again moving. It wouldn’t last—not when they realized we were not only heading back up to the surface, but going out.

“Bear, lead the way.”

He hummed contentedly and did as bidden, guiding us through the myriad tunnels. As we neared the exit, the tunnel became strewn with the rubble and debris that had drifted in over the years thanks to the overflow from the nearby drains. The air was a putrid mix of humanity, rotting rubbish, and the muddy scent of the trickle of water that was still known as the Barra River. Like many things in this world of ours, its course had been forever altered when the bombs had been unleashed.

The thick steel grate covering the exit came into sight, and the green light flashing to one side indicated the outer system was still in full security mode. Thankfully, the laser net protected only the dome itself, and, with any luck, the museum staff would blame the system going briefly offline on a computer glitch, as they had in the past.

I powered down the airchair, then walked around to the control box and quickly typed in the twelve-digit code. This tunnel had been designed as a means of escape and, as such, didn’t have scanner facilities. I’d never bothered upgrading the old gateway simply because few people ventured down this part of the Barra—it was too close to one of the rifts.

The grate slid noisily open. Penny lunged forward, but I grabbed her, holding her back.

“Hush,” I said, as she opened her mouth to protest. “Wait until we know it’s safe.”

She pouted. I ignored her and listened to the sounds of a city stirring to life, sorting through the layers, trying to find anything that might indicate someone was close. There was nothing.

“Okay,” I said and released her.

She ran out but stopped several feet away from the entrance, sucking in the air as if desperate to fill her lungs. I snorted softly. It didn’t smell that bad underground.

I glanced back at the ghosts. “Keep this entrance safe for me. I’ll be back by sunset.”

Hands patted me good-bye—although both Cat and Bear were already outside, waiting. They’d always been more adventurous than the younger ones, preferring to be with me whenever possible rather than stay in the home that was also their tomb. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was due to our deeper connection, or whether it was simply a matter of their being older than the rest. Either way, I was always happy to have their company.

I dragged Jonas off the chair, then walked out of our sanctuary. Once the grate had closed, I turned and looked around.

Sunrise tinted the sky with rose and lavender, and the scent of rain was still in the air. It would be brilliant if it did rain again, because the inhabitants of Central and Chaos would be too busy scurrying for cover to worry about the three of us. It also meant there would be less chance of our being seen returning.

Central’s metal drawbridge was still raised against the night, and the nearby rail siding was filled with pods that were shadowed and silent. No one would be close to them until the sun had fully risen. Humanity had become very fearful of darkness—and with good reason.

My gaze went to Chaos, and a shudder went through me. Even in full sunlight it was a place of shadows; in the half-light of a dawn barely risen, it rose forbiddingly above me, a grimy, gritty mass that blighted the metal to which it clung.

I glanced down at Penny. “Where does this Nuri live?”

“In Chaos,” she answered.

“Where in Chaos? It’s a big place.” And not someplace I wanted to wander about aimlessly. Humans and shifters might now live together in relative peace, even in habitats like Chaos, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a dangerous place for strangers to venture.

She hesitated. “Chang Puk district.”

Which wasn’t overly helpful given how little I knew about Chaos and its districts. “What level is that?”

“Five.”

So midlevel. Which meant it was more than likely this Nuri had some standing. In Chaos, the higher the level you lived on, the more power or wealth you had. It was the same in Central, except that it was the city’s heart—and the safety that came with being as far away from the walls as was possible—that drew the wealthy. “Where on five?”

Rather unhelpfully, she shrugged.

Irritation surged, but I forced it aside. She was only a child, even if she did sometimes seem far older. “We can’t just wander around, Penny. That would be dangerous.”

And make us a target. If you didn’t move with purpose through the various levels, you were inviting trouble from the gangs and thugs who ran a good portion of the place.

Her gaze drifted to Jonas and her expression became distant yet oddly intent. After a moment, she said, “Nuri lives in Run Turk Alley.”

Which was the mercenary district, as far as I knew. In some ways that was better than the upper levels, where the whores, gang leaders, and drug kingpins lived. At least I had a chance of blending in with the mercenaries. Even though I’d been bred to infiltrate and seduce, I would never have passed as a whore. There was a coarseness—a rapacity—in the ladies who traded their wares within Chaos that I doubted I could achieve or fake.

I shifted Jonas’s weight to a more comfortable position, then resignedly moved forward. There were only two entrances into Chaos—this south one, and the other at the far north end. A single roadway that followed the sweep of the curtain wall connected the two, but there were a myriad of lanes and footpaths branching off this main artery, as well as a slew of stairs and ladders that connected the various levels.

Penny trailed behind me, as did the two ghosts. Their thoughts were a mix of excitement and dread, and I had no doubt there would be lots of stories shared and embellished with those who’d remained behind. Penny’s expression gave away little, which again struck me as odd. Given she’d never been to this place before, I would have expected at least a little fear. Chaos was not exactly the most welcoming of places to look at.

As we neared the little footbridge that crossed the two-feet-wide remnant of what once had been the main water source for Central’s founders, the air began to shimmer and spark. The energy that caressed my skin was dark and unhealthy in feel, and unease crawled through me. Though this rift hadn’t moved in years, that didn’t mean it couldn’t or wouldn’t explode into action.

Didn’t mean something couldn’t or wouldn’t come through it, despite the growing strength of daylight.

I’d seen some of those things. I had no desire to fight them.

I increased my pace, and Penny trotted along after me, seemingly oblivious to the danger that waited not very far away. But then, few humans or shifters could actually see them. It seemed to be something only those who were either psychically or magically gifted could do.

The day was growing brighter, casting splashes of red and gold across the silver curtain wall. Or, at least, along the flat front of it. There was little enough silver visible across the rest of it for dawn to paint, covered as it was by Chaos.

We strode up the hill toward the six-feet-wide gap that was the south entrance. On either side were the garishly decorated metal containers that made up much of Chaos’s ground level, and which supported the weight of everything above it. There were no windows or ventilation slots cut into any of these; they were basically little more than metal boxes that were used as shops, factories, and trading posts, and they found life only once the sun was up. The inhabitants of Chaos might show little concern about the vampires, but they didn’t invite trouble, either. When dusk came, those who worked here retreated to at least the next level, and all ladders and stairs were either drawn up or locked down. It didn’t often help, but the illusion of safety was better than nothing, I suppose.

My pace slowed as I neared the entrance. “Are you sure Nuri’s in Run Turk Alley on the fifth level?”

“Yes.”

Her gaze was on the ranger rather than me, and with good reason. Given the way I was carrying him, I couldn’t actually see his features, but I could feel the heat in his skin, the sweat that stained his clothes, and the tremors that raked his body. Whatever he’d been given, it continued to take a toll on his body, despite his natural healing abilities.

I resolutely strode into Chaos. The shadows closed in immediately, and the fear of being caged—of having no room and no air—swiftly followed. It was a fear that had been born in the stinking, bug-filled cesspit I’d once been thrown into after the shifter general I’d been assigned to had begun to suspect I might be a traitor. That pit would have been my tomb had it not been for Sal—a déchet assassin, and one of the few friends I’d had apart from the children. How he’d found me I have no idea, but he’d undoubtedly saved my life.

Of course, it was a debt I’d never get the chance to repay. As far as I knew, no other déchet had survived the shifters’ determined destruction of everyone and everything related to the HDP.

I swallowed heavily and forced my feet on, my gaze on the grimy, wet, and littered ground rather than the too-close graffiti-strewn metal walls and doors that lined the roadway. No cars or motorbikes ever came into Chaos—there simply wasn’t the room, especially when the traders all opened their doors and their operations spilled into the street itself.

Our footsteps echoed in the thick silence, and above us, life stirred. I glanced up, even though there was nothing to see except the crusted metal ceiling that seemed far too close. But I knew what was up there—layer upon layer of crammed apartments that weren’t much larger than the shipping containers they all rested on. I also knew that those who controlled this place would now be aware of our presence. Who those people actually were, I had no idea. Nor did I wish to ever find out.

We pressed on, splashing through water that was thick and oily while trying to avoid the muck that dripped steadily from the ceiling. Rubbish lay in gathering drifts, emitting a stench that was a putrid mix of rotting fish and human waste. While Central grudgingly provided some necessities—basic water and sanitation facilities (though not garbage pickup, as evidenced by the waste), some medical facilities, and irregular postal services—black-market trading was common, and what wasn’t stolen was either hunted for in the park near my bunker, or fished from the rerouted Barra, a good kilometer away from here.

We found an unlocked staircase and moved up. The entrance to the next level was sealed, so I drew one of the guns and shot the lock off. The sharp sound echoed. If the powers that be actually hadn’t been aware of our presence, then they certainly were now. But it wasn’t like I had much other choice. Jonas seemed to be getting heavier, and I wasn’t entirely sure how much longer I could keep carrying him.

We moved swiftly through the next two levels, but by the time we’d reach the fourth, we were no longer alone. No one approached us, but they watched, and they followed, and the air was thick with hostility.

“We’re almost there.” I was trying to reassure Penny as much as myself, but if her expression was anything to go by, she was once again oblivious to the danger surrounding us.

We reached the fifth level. I paused at the top of the stairs, looking left and right, and—after mentally flipping a coin—headed left. If this Nuri was a healer of some distinction—and I suspected she might be—then she was likely housed toward the middle of the complex, which would provide more protection from vampire attacks than the outer reaches.

I scanned the haphazard signage as we passed each offshoot lane or walkway, and eventually found the one we wanted. It was little more than a three-feet-wide path that wove through a mess of houses—each one little more than a ten-feet-wide collection of scavenged wood, steel, and plastic—and whose owners lounged against the outer wall, smoking and drinking. Every one of them was armed. Run Turk Alley was, as I’d heard, mercenary central.

I shifted my grip on Jonas, freeing a hand without making it too obvious I was ready to reach for a weapon. We headed down, weaving our way through a sea of rubbish, stares, and outstretched feet. No one stopped us or said anything, but they didn’t move out of our way, either. I stumbled more than once, wrenching my already screaming back and leg muscles as I struggled to remain upright.

Eventually, I saw a small sign that simply read NURI’S. While it was just another wood-and-metal building coated with years of grime, graffiti, and advertising posters, it was three times the size of the others in this street. It also had several windows, all of which were barred—a necessity in this area, no doubt.

Penny squeezed past me and ran ahead to open the door. I followed her into the brightly lit confines and was almost immediately hit by the stink of alcohol. But a more surprising—and dangerous—scent closely followed. There were shifters in this place.

While it was highly unlikely any of them realized what I was, I couldn’t help the instinctive need to retreat. I could fight—all déchet could, even those of us who had been trained in the art of seduction. But the war had been a long time ago, and fighting had never been my main skill set. There were far too many shifters in this bar for me to have a chance of survival should they decide to attack.

I stopped several feet in from the door and transferred Jonas to a sturdy-looking table. Then I scanned the room. The woman standing behind the bar was human, and the shifters were all seated at one of the tables crowding the far end of the small room. There were a half dozen of them—four men and two women—and all looked to be in fighting condition. It was an impression amplified by the many weapons strapped to their bodies.

Relax, I told myself silently. Breathe.

But my heart still raced, and my fingers itched with the need to reach for a weapon. I resisted the urge and remained where I was, emoting a calm I certainly didn’t feel. Cat and Bear crowded close, their energy stinging my skin, making it twitch.

“Jesus H. Christ!” the woman at the bar said, her abrupt comment cutting through the thick silence and making me jump. “What the hell happened to Jonas?”

She strode out of the gloom, a tea towel that had seen better days slung over one shoulder. She was short and fat, with rosy cheeks and wiry, steel gray hair that ballooned around her head like a sea of slender, twisting snakes.

She didn’t look the least bit menacing and, for that reason alone, I very much suspected she was the most dangerous person in the room. In fact, the force of her energy electrified the air, so that she appeared surrounded by a halo of flickering, fiery blue.

“According to Penny, Jonas has been poisoned,” I said, when it became obvious Penny wasn’t going to answer. “I was advised to bring him here.”

Her gaze pinned mine and, in the brown depths, I saw sharp intellect and great power. This was Nuri; of that I had no doubt.

“And who the hell are you?” While her voice was still brusque, her touch was gentle as she gripped Jonas’s cheeks and studied him intently.

“No one important.”

“Well, no one important,” she said, her gaze still on the ranger though I had no doubt she was very aware of my every move. “Would you like to tell us how you came to be in a position to help these two? I suspect there’s a bit of a story behind it.”

I shrugged, my gaze flicking to the watching shifters. Their attention hadn’t wavered, and their hands were resting a little closer to their guns. My tension ramped another notch, as did the caress of power from my two ghostly guards.

We needed to get out of here before this situation became nasty. These people were too alert, too ready for action. It was almost as if they’d been expecting us.

“She rescued us,” Penny piped up. “From the vampires.”

The woman looked up at that. Her gaze swept down my length, then came up to rest on my face again. It felt like she was clawing away the layers of skin and seeing exactly what I was.

“And just how many vampires are we talking about?”

“Not many,” I said, at the same time that Penny said, “At least a score.”

“It might have seemed that way, but honestly, it wasn’t.” I forced a smile. “And now that these two are safe, I really have to go.”

The ghosts flung themselves around me, urging me to hurry, needing, wanting to leave as much as I did. I took a step back. No one moved to stop me. The old woman continued to study me, seeing too much, suspecting too much.

“At least tell us your name,” she said, “so that we may say a prayer for you over dinner tonight.”

“Her name is Tiger,” Penny said, and, with all the innocence of a child, added, “She’s a déchet.”

My gaze snapped to her. How the hell . . . ? But the rest of the thought was snatched away as energy exploded around me. It came from the woman, from the shifters, and, more dangerously, from my little guards.

“No,” I said, and flung out a hand, snatching back the power Cat had already begun to discharge. Then something pricked the side of my neck and the world went dark.