Chapter 3

I woke to ghostly hands anxiously patting my face, but for several seconds I could neither move nor react. The air was thick and still, and there seemed to be some sort of weight on my chest, making breathing difficult. But I was alive, and that was surely yet more evidence that the goddess Rhea really was looking out for me. Given the strength of those explosions, I should have been dead.

Cat’s energy pressed close. You must get up, she said. It’s too dangerous here.

I forced my eyes open. Destruction lay all around me. Huge chunks of concrete and twisted bits of metal filled the dark void, and the curved walls that had withstood everything the shifters had thrown at this base during the war were fissured and looked unstable. No wonder Cat wanted me out.

The section immediately above me had given way, but the twisting nature of the stairs meant I had no idea if the void ran all the way to the museum, or if the explosion had simply reduced the rest of the stairs to rubble. I hoped it was the latter, if only because it would prevent anyone from gaining immediate access.

Below me there was nothing but more rubble and the occasional step remnant. Whatever the three strangers had used had been very powerful indeed. I wondered how much damage had been done not only to the museum, but also to the old tower that held all the remaining solar panels. They might be an antiquated curiosity to those alive today, but they continued to power not only the systems that had been preserved on the museum floor for demonstration purposes, but most of mine. If they’d been destroyed, I would be left with only the three hydrogen-fueled generators to power the entire base—and those generators were becoming increasingly unreliable.

The weight on my chest was a concrete boulder large enough to also pin my right arm. I couldn’t feel my fingers, so there was, at the very least, nerve damage. There were smaller bits of concrete covering the rest of my body, and a thin sliver of metal had pierced my left calf. Why I wasn’t a howling mess of pain, I had no idea; maybe it was shock. Or maybe my pain receptors had simply given up.

“The intruders?” I croaked. “Where are they?”

This time it was Bear who made the connection. Gone. They left before the two explosions.

I frowned. Hadn’t there been three?

Something cracked in the darkness above us, and debris rained down. The little ones spun around me anxiously, echoing Cat’s urgency to move.

“I need the concrete off my chest first—Bear, could you do it please?”

His energy surged, and after a moment the boulder floated free. He carried it to the end of my body, then dropped it. It bounced loudly down the remains of the stairs, the sound echoing in the dusty stillness.

I drew in a deep, shuddery breath and then carefully sat up. Those supposedly dead pain receptors sprang to life and every part of my body felt as if it were on fire. I hissed, blinking away the sweat and blood that began to trickle into my eyes as I battled not to throw up. Or fall back into unconsciousness.

Cat’s energy touched me again. You need to go to the mediscan beds.

I did. And fast. But that was the least of my problems right now. “Bear, do you want to go upstairs and check that those people haven’t come back? And can you also check what damage has been done up there?”

He spun around me excitedly, then zoomed off. I glanced at Cat. “Could you check the rest of the base? See if there’s any damage elsewhere?”

There had been three explosions—I was certain of it. So if the intruders were responsible for two, where had the third come from? And, more important, what had it been aimed at? I suspected it might have been the south-siding exit, but it didn’t hurt to check the rest of the base, just in case the destruction in the museum had set off a chain reaction elsewhere.

Cat hesitated. Will you need help?

I smiled and reached out, lightly catching the energy of her hands in mine. “I’ll be fine. The little ones can help keep me upright if necessary.”

This statement brought a surge of excitement and a sense of importance from the other little ghosts. They might not ever be as adventurous as either Cat or Bear thanks to their age when they’d died, but they still liked helping when they could. Hell, it was thanks to their assistance that Jonas and I had survived the vampires’ onslaught the night I saved both him and Penny.

Cat whisked away to check the rest of the base, and the other ghosts pressed closer, the energy of their bodies making my skin tingle. I cradled my arm—an action that had more sweat coursing down my face—then carefully made my way down the stairs. It took an interminably long time, not only because there wasn’t much left of the stairs themselves, but because I simply was running far too close to the edge of endurance. The metal stake spearing my calf wasn’t helping, either, but I didn’t dare remove it until I got to the medical center just in case it had punctured a main artery. I doubted it, but sometimes you couldn’t tell.

Once we finally got clear of the stairwell and entered the relatively destruction-free zone of tunnel D, our speed increased. Level four had once housed the main medical and training facilities for the bunker’s combatant déchet divisions, and while several of the rooms closest to the main tunnel that led up to level three had been flooded by concrete, the rest of this area had survived intact. The medical equipment—although undoubtedly out-of-date by today’s standards—still worked. Why the shifters hadn’t destroyed the machines along with all the equipment in both the creation labs and the nurseries, I had no idea, but I’d thanked 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 when using a machine was infinitely better. Like right now, when my reserves were giving out and I had far too many injuries to heal myself with any sort of speed.

By the time I reached the medical center, my breath was coming in short, sharp gasps and my vision was blurring. I gritted my teeth and forced myself on. As the door swished open, I flicked the knife still strapped to my left wrist into my hand and carefully cut away my right sleeve. A red mist seemed to form before my eyes and I hissed, holding on to the end of the nearest bed as I gulped down air and battled to remain conscious. As the mist retreated, I hastily slashed off the rest of my clothes. I was carrying so many wounds that it was simply better to be naked. Once I’d activated the light panel and set it to do a full body scan and repair, I climbed into the bed and—after gritting my teeth—pulled the stake out. A scream ripped up my throat as blood spurted, and it was all I could do to remain conscious and lie down. But as foam enveloped my body and began to admit a soft but rapid beeping sound—my heartbeat, amplified by the light panel above me—my strength finally gave out and unconsciousness claimed me.

*   *   *

It was the whispering of the ghosts that finally pulled me back to consciousness. There was a mix of anxiety and excitement in their voices, and while neither was exactly unusual, it was the name they kept mentioning that caught my attention.

Jonas.

Apparently, he was a part of the ten-man crew inspecting the damage done to the museum. Four of the other nine were from Central’s military corps—their uniforms said they were from the engineering division—and the rest were museum staff.

So what the hell was Jonas doing with them? Not only had he denied any connection with the government, but he was also an outcast. As such, he should not have been included in any official investigation.

Of course, while both he and Nuri had denied government links, they could still have enough pull to have him included. But why would they want it? Nuri was a powerful earth witch—surely she could use a little magic to uncover whether I was alive or not.

I pushed upright. The medibed’s monitor told me I’d been unconscious for seven hours and forty-eight minutes, and that it was now nearly three in the afternoon. My leg wound obviously hadn’t been as bad as it had looked or felt; otherwise I’d have been out longer. “What’s the damage like up in the museum, Bear?”

Images pressed into my mind. The old tower—and its vital solar panels—still stood, even though chunks had been taken out of the sides that faced into the museum. A huge pile of rubble and two twisted remnants of metal that reminded me of fingers stretching toward the domed ceiling were all that remained of the inner section that had held the museum’s offices, security people, and the hidden tunnel entrance. Several Acro Props were already in place to hold up the rest of the ceiling, although the dome that arched over the building’s remains, shielding it from the elements and further decay, didn’t seem to have sustained any damage. The glass was fissured over the old tower, but it had been for quite a while.

“And the stairs? Is there anything left of them?”

The connection between us briefly deepened. Only a remnant of the third and fourth levels remain. The top two have completely caved in.

I guess the only surprising thing about that was the fact that the force of the explosions hadn’t taken out all four levels. I glanced at Cat, who was waiting patiently next to Bear.

“Was there damage anywhere else? Is the south-siding exit intact?”

It wasn’t. The third explosion had, as I feared, taken it out. I scrubbed a hand across my eyes. This was going to make getting in and out of our bunker more difficult.

Which was undoubtedly the point.

And while I had expected Sal’s partners to make a more direct attempt to either stop me or at least stop my use of the bunker, I had to wonder how they’d known about the museum entrance. No one knew about that one—not even Nuri or Jonas.

“Cat, Bear, can you keep an eye on what’s going on in the museum? Let me know if they do anything unusual or if Jonas leaves.”

They zoomed around me, then raced away, both of them determined to be the first one up there. Their laughter drifted back to me and made me smile. The other little ones followed no less exuberantly. Apparently, the museum goings-on were far more exciting than anything I might be doing. Silence fell, and it was almost unnerving.

I jumped off the mediscan bed and headed down to the sixth floor. Not only had it been the main training area for prepubescent déchet, but it also held the bunk rooms, storerooms, and generators, as well as a secondary medical center and a gun cache—which was now the only cache, given the one I’d set up in the museum tunnel was undoubtedly gone.

The sixth floor was also an area that held one of the unalterable security points. A red light flashed as I approached the main door.

“Name, rank,” a gruff metallic voice said. I’d long ago named him Hank, simply because his tone reminded me of the cranky custodian who’d once run the Base Exchange. He was one of the few human ghosts who still lingered here, although he tended to avoid both me and the children.

“Tiger C5, déchet, lure rank.”

I pressed my thumb against the blood-work slot. A small needle shot out and took the required sample. While the system usually took an interminably long time to react, it was faster today, thanks to the fact that I was running all three generators twenty-four/seven so I could bring the south-siding exit into the security net. I could probably stop that now, because if the images Cat had shown me were any indication, no one but shadowed vampires was going to use that entrance anytime soon. Presuming, of course, the destruction wasn’t so complete that even an energy mass wasn’t getting through.

After the scanner had checked my irises, the door beeped and swung open. I made my way down to the generator room first. The backup generator was once again making an alarming amount of noise. I’d run a maintenance check on it only a couple of days ago, but it obviously needed a full-system check—not something I could risk, as it would take me close to a day to pull the thing apart, and probably that again to fix whatever was wrong, then put it back together—if, of course, I actually had the parts here to fix it with.

I ordered the computer to do another maintenance run, then coded the south-siding exit out of the system and switched its programming back to running only at night. Thankfully, the other two generators were purring along quite happily, but I included them in the maintenance check anyway. It would take them offline for an hour, but the solar system could cope with running the purifiers and the doors for that short amount of time. And it wasn’t as if I needed the full security system running right now anyway, because no one was getting in or out of this place very easily in the near future. Maybe not even me.

With that done, I headed for the hydro pods to clean up. Once I’d dressed, I attached my guns, then grabbed some fresh ammunition as well as a flash stick from the store and headed down to the south-siding exit. The destruction became evident long before I got anywhere near the tunnel. The two nearby nursery units were filled with dust and debris, but the lights were at least working in them. The same could not be said of the third nursery that now acted as a forecourt for the south-siding exit. The force of the explosion had caused a huge portion of the ceiling to collapse, and wires and broken lights hung in long and dangerous lengths. Sparks spun where wires touched, vivid but fleeting motes of brightness in the thick darkness.

I carefully picked my way through the mess and stopped in front of what once had been the tunnel’s entrance. Not only had it collapsed, but given the amount of dirt and stone mixed into the debris, it seemed the hill above us had caved in as well. I pulled the flash stick free and hit the switch. Its bright blue-white light pierced the darkness, but all it revealed was a solid wall of dirt, rock, and shattered concrete. I couldn’t see any way to get through the mess. The small air pockets and spaces that would normally have existed between the debris of concrete and stones—spaces that would have allowed me to slip through in energy form—simply didn’t exist because the soil had filled them.

Whether the whole tunnel was like that or simply this portion of it was impossible to say, but one thing was obvious—I wasn’t getting out this way anytime soon, and that was going to make things damnably difficult.

I swore, then turned and headed back. Sparks chased my heels, disappearing only once I’d reached the brightness of the next room. I returned to the generator room and shut down the power to the half-destroyed nursery room, then continued on up to the fourth level. If I couldn’t get out through the south-siding exit, then my only hope was the museum one, destroyed as it was.

I really didn’t want to think about what I’d do if it were as impassible as the other.

The little ones spun around me as I neared what remained of the staircase, then ran off laughing again. Apparently, the men had finally left the museum—no surprise, given dusk was coming in and Central’s drawbridge would soon be taken up for the night. Even Jonas had left, though he was walking around the museum, heading toward the south-siding exit rather than to either Central or Chaos. Bear and Cat were trailing after him.

I called to the darkness within me and, once I’d become energy rather than flesh, surged upward. The destruction became far more evident past the third level. The outer wall had collapsed inward, as had much of the inner wall. But—unlike the south-siding exit—there were plenty of spaces and gaps in between the huge chunks of concrete and steel, which gave me the room to squeeze through. Dusk had seeped into night by the time I reached the thick metal trapdoor that had once separated the staircase from the museum. It had been twisted like tinfoil and was now held in place by a solitary hinge. That it was even here said a lot about the strength of the old cover, given how close to the blast it must have been. I worked my way past both it and the few remaining concrete boulders, and finally entered the museum itself. Once I was absolutely sure no one remained, I regained human form and looked around.

The destruction was every bit as bad as the images the ghosts had shown me. The air was so thick with dust it felt like I was breathing in grit, and there was a vast mound of concrete, office equipment, and furniture sitting in the center of the museum. The whole area was a sea of wires and cabling that hung from what remained of the walls or snaked across the floor. None of them were sparking, which meant the power was probably off. While most of the bunker’s old systems were powered by the old solar panels, the museum itself and all the newer additions—including lighting and security systems—were connected to Central’s grid. Meaning the laser curtain that usually protected the museum at night would now be inactive.

I walked across to the museum doors, my footsteps echoing lightly in the thick stillness. The security panel on the right side of the doors was dark, so I wedged my fingertips into the joint between the two heavy metal doors and tried to force them open. They refused to budge, so I called in the little ghosts, and after a moment, we’d opened them enough for me to slip through. I didn’t bother closing it, though—I just headed for the south-siding exit.

I found Jonas near the remains of the old grate that protected the tunnel’s exit. He rose as I approached, and the relief that crossed his features briefly warmed me, even though it undoubtedly stemmed more from Nuri’s statement that I was the only one who could rescue the missing kids than any true joy at discovering I was still alive.

I stopped several yards away from the exit’s remains and crossed my arms. Cat’s energy caressed my shoulder, but Bear was off investigating a section of grate that had been blown at least a hundred yards away from its original position. “I thought you didn’t have any government connection.”

Jonas frowned. “I don’t—”

“Then why were you in the museum inspecting the damage with the engineers? An ex-ranger now living in Chaos wouldn’t have been my first choice to call to investigate such an event.”

“And normally, that would be true. But the man in charge just happens to be a friend of mine, and we did have a vested interest in knowing whether you lived or died.” He paused and scanned me. “I can understand why they blew this tunnel, but what were they trying to achieve by blowing up the museum?”

“There was a secondary entrance situated there. I’m not sure how they knew about it, though. It’s certainly not in any of the base plans, and no one has ever seen me use it . . .” My voice trailed off.

Actually, someone had.

“What?” Jonas immediately said.

I cleared my throat and looked away. Penny was his niece, and it was unlikely he’d believe she’d do anything to jeopardize the hunt for the other missing children.

“Tiger—” he all but growled.

I grimaced. “The only person who knew there was an entrance in the museum was Penny. We used it the night I saved you both.”

“She couldn’t—”

“Once that might have been true,” I cut in. “But even Nuri has said there’s a darkness in Penny’s soul now that hadn’t been evident before. How do we know that darkness isn’t some form of connection back to those who held her?”

“We don’t. Which is why she’s been placed on sensory lockdown. She can’t even contact Nuri telepathically, let alone anyone else. It can’t be her.”

“Then who else could it be?”

“Did Sal know about the entrance?”

“No. He wasn’t even in the base when the Draccid was fed into the ventilation system.” I paused and briefly closed my eyes, battling the memories that always hit whenever I thought about that day. Cat’s energy pressed closer, offering me comfort. In some ways, the little ones were lucky—they might have died a horrible death, but they’d at least died relatively quickly. And because most of them had been so young when it happened, they really hadn’t retained much memory of the event. But it was not something I could ever forget. I might have been designed to be immune to all manner of poisons and toxins, but that didn’t mean I didn’t suffer the effects of them. I’d lain on the cold nursery floor, surrounded by the bloody remnants of the children, as my body first disintegrated and then rebuilt itself. It had taken weeks to regain enough muscle and strength to drag myself into one of the mediscan beds. It was only the presence of the ghosts that had kept me strong and sane during that period.

“Tiger?” Jonas said softly.

I blinked and refocused on him. “If they were trying to stop me exiting the bunker, why didn’t they blow the ventilation system?”

“Because vent systems generally aren’t strong enough to support human weight.”

“Yes, but they know I can become vampire.”

“Because of Sal, or because they’ve seen you do it?”

“I’m not sure if he remembered I could do that, but the vampires have witnessed it.” Several times, in fact.

I walked around him and headed up the hill, needing to see how bad the cave-in was from up top.

“But would they have mentioned it to those now working with them?” He fell in step beside me, his shoulder close enough to mine that I could feel the heat radiating off him. “And what if the purpose of the explosions was not to keep you in, but to keep you out?”

I frowned. “Why would they want that? If they had trapped me inside the bunker, they’d have successfully nullified me.”

“Yes, but thanks to Sal and the scan Nadel Keller took of your RFID chip, they know what identity you’re using in Central and where you’re supposedly living.”

The RFID chips—or radio frequency identifier, to give it its full name—were inserted into the wrist of every newborn these days, and held not only your ID papers but work, credit, and medical history. I had one thanks to Nuri and her crew, and the history within it was nothing but fabrication—but it was a fabrication that was fully checkable. According to Nuri, the mercenary network worked on a quid-pro-quo basis, and they backed each other’s reinvented histories as and where necessary.

“That’s presuming Keller is involved with whatever is going on. I got the impression from Sal he was nothing more than Winter Halo’s recruitment officer.”

“Even if that’s true, your information would now be on their files. It would be easy enough to access.”

“Which would only help them if I became one of the new security recruits at Winter Halo. Given that Sal arranged the interview with Keller, I’m thinking we need to find another method of getting in there.”

Winter Halo was the company responsible for running the initial drug tests on the families of the missing children. Though the government had cleared the company of any involvement in their disappearance, Nuri still believed there was a connection—but it was one they couldn’t directly investigate because they were too well-known within the city. Which was why I’d asked Sal if he could use his influence and get me a job there. Winter Halo apparently had a high turnover rate of night security guards, and getting such a position would have enabled me to investigate without being overly obvious.

“In your current configuration, I agree it wouldn’t be wise. But the information on your chip can be changed easily enough.” He paused. “Was Sal aware of your ability to body-shift?”

“Yes. And it’s a skill he’d also possessed, so it’s probable his companions inherited it when the rift mashed their DNA together.”

He grunted. “Which won’t make it any easier to track them down.”

Especially since the names Sal had given me—Samuel Cohern and Ciara Dream—were not the ones they were currently using. And that meant they could be absolutely anyone, either in Winter Halo or in the government itself. Because there was a government connection somewhere along the line—the crates bearing government IDs being stored in the military bunker I’d rescued Jonas from were evidence enough of that.

The ground above the exit had fully collapsed inward, and the line of destruction snaked all the way up the hill. Thankfully, there was little external evidence that this was anything more than a landslip, or that the ground had actually fallen in on an old military tunnel. I turned and swept my gaze across Central’s rusting silvery walls. If I wanted to find those missing kids, then I had to not only get back into the city but find another way to get into Winter Halo. Until we found out more about Sal’s partners, it was still our best chance of finding out what was going on.

But until I found a way of doing that, perhaps my next point of attack should be Nadel Keller. He’d be under scrutiny, of that I had no doubt, but he could still be a very useful source of information. I just had to be careful about how I extracted it—perhaps use the portion of my seeker skills that could access information through touch rather than sex. While the latter was undoubtedly easier, Sal had been well aware of what I’d been bred for, and I had no doubt Keller’s movements would be under close scrutiny. A suddenly gained new lover would raise alarms in all the wrong places.

“Did you get very far following those tracks last night?” I asked eventually.

“They circled back around to Carleen and went into a rift.”

“A false rift?”

“I presume so. I can’t actually see them, remember, but given he simply vanished, it was either a false rift or magic.” His gaze was a weight I could feel deep inside, but I kept my own securely locked on Central as he added, “What do you plan to do next?”

“I don’t know.” I actually did, but I really didn’t want him tailing me when I went after Keller. His presence would be far too distracting. “But I do need to find another way into Winter Halo.”

“Recruitment was our best bet, and that’s no longer a viable option. Sal’s partners are undoubtedly aware you were trying to access that way.”

“Which means we probably need to find someone whose identity I could take over.”

“Nuri is already looking into that prospect.”

“Good.” I finally glanced at him. “And I believe she was also going to find me a former employee to talk to.”

Amusement lurked briefly at the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I thought you didn’t want our help.”

“I don’t, but given you’re obviously intent on ignoring what I want, I might as well put your presence to use. I’m practical, not stupid.”

“Stupidity is not a word I’d ever associate with you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

I snorted softly. “Careful, Ranger, because that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment if it’s a simple truth.”

And Rhea forbid he actually toss a compliment my way. “Do you know where Keller lives?”

It was said more sharply than it should have been, and the amusement in his expression faded.

“He lives midpoint on Seventh. The Heldan Apartments, I believe.”

It wasn’t an address I knew, but it was one that would be easy enough to find given Central’s street system worked from Twelfth—which was the closest to the curtain wall—to First, the innermost street and one of the few fully circular ones. Victory Street—the only street that ran straight through the heart of the city—intersected each of these streets, which also acted as delineation between the twelve districts within Central. Those near the wall were the poorer sections; the closer you got to Central’s heart—where the main business district and government centers were situated, as well as the only green space available within the city—the more exclusive and richer the community. Seventh Street was a step up from the poorer districts but still considered a less desirable area than the Sixth and Fifth, which not only were considered the middle-class sector, but also held the technology district. Winter Halo held a prime spot on Sixth Street.

I had no idea what hours Keller worked, but given it had been evening when he met Sal and me at the restaurant, there was a fair chance he worked late most nights. If I got into the Central fairly quickly, I might be able to meet him coming out of Winter Halo itself.

“Is there a café or some other building nearby from where I can keep an eye on things without raising eyebrows?”

He hesitated. “There’s a place called Seven Sins close by.”

“Seven Sins?”

He smiled. “It’s a patisserie. I’m rather partial to their pistachio and raspberry macarons.”

Most shifters had sweet tooths thanks to their higher metabolic rate, but for some reason, I hadn’t expected it in Jonas. Maybe because of all the sour looks he kept throwing my way. “Are there enough credits on my RFID chip for me to buy anything at such a place?”

“Yes.”

Then I was definitely going to try one of those macarons. “How long do you think it will take to find someone working at Winter Halo whose position I can take?”

“We should have several possibilities available by midday tomorrow.”

“Then I shall meet you at the bunker.”

He frowned. “What are you doing tonight?”

“That, Ranger, is none of your business.” I sucked in the night and disappeared.

Cat and Bear chased me back to the museum exit, their laughter making me smile. Jonas hadn’t been pleased at my sudden disappearance, apparently. Once I’d made my way through the debris to tunnel D, I regained flesh and headed for the bunk rooms. While I’d worn my uniform into Central many times without problems, if I wanted any chance of gaining Keller’s attention, then I not only had to wear a different form, but also very different clothes. Thankfully, Nuri had given me a tunic that was more than suitable for seduction purposes. It was full-length, but split to the thigh along one side to allow easier movement, and made of soft gray wool that clung to rather than hid curves. I’d worn the same type of garment many times in the various camps I’d been assigned to during the war, and knew from experience they were not only extremely comfortable, but also sexy. Not that I intended to seduce, but he, at the very least, had to believe that was a distinct possibility for my seeking skills to be of any use.

“Cat and Bear, can you keep an eye on things for me here? Come find me if anything happens.”

Bear grumbled about being left behind again, even though he understood my reasons. The little ones had done a mighty job protecting this place against several vampire attacks, but I didn’t want to keep relying on them alone. They were young, and sooner or later an attack would come that would overwhelm them. Bear had at least gone through the initial stages of training. He might not be déchet skilled, but he could fight. And he was also canny enough to call in the help of the ninety-three fully trained déchet who haunted this place if necessary, whereas the little ones tended to be scared of the older ghosts and generally avoided them.

Once I’d said all my good-byes, I headed back through the mess of the old stairwell and out into the night. I made my way toward Central, aiming for a spot midway between the haphazard walls of Chaos and the drawbridge. Though Central was a city of never-ending daylight, on this side of the rusting metal wall, the shadows were deep and heavy. Even in Chaos, it was only the upper reaches that had any sort of continual light protection. Once I neared the wall’s massive footings, I surged upward, pressing close to the wall, my gaze on the flood of brightness high above me. But the closer I got to the top of the wall, the more the light of the UVs poured over it, and the more the shadows within me began to unravel. As my flesh form began to reinsert itself, I lunged for the top of the wall. My fingers caught the rough metal edge and for several seconds I just hung there, my heart going a million miles a minute as I sucked in air and tried not to look at the long drop below me. I hated heights, which was daft, considering that not only was there a lot of tiger DNA in me—meaning I generally landed feetfirst—but also that once I was beyond the wash of lights, the shadows in my soul would reassert themselves and halt my fall long before I ever hit the ground. But irrational fears were called that precisely because they didn’t actually make sense.

I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, then pulled myself up. Central stretched before me, bright and quiet. While there were guards stationed atop the drawbridge, they only ever did full patrols of the main wall if the vampires were notably active. The UVs had long ago been protected from any sort of weaponry taking them out, and as far as I knew, the last of the bombs had been destroyed at the war’s end. None had been made since. No one wanted to take the risk, given the number of rifts already rolling across the landscape.

The guards would, however, come investigating if they happened to spot me walking about the top of the wall, especially when said walls were off-limits to the general population. Which meant I needed to protect myself from casual scrutiny, and that meant wrapping a light shield around myself. It was harder to do at night, when there was no sunshine to draw in, but there was enough light coming from the UVs to make a good second option.

I took a deep breath, then called to the heat and energy radiating off the lights, drawing it deep into my body in much the same manner as I drew in the darkness. Brightness flowed into every muscle, every fiber, until my entire being burned with the force of it. I imagined that force wrapping around me, forming a shield through which none could see. Energy stirred as motes of light began to dance both through and around me, joining and growing, until they’d formed the barrier I was imagining. To the outside world, I no longer existed. The light that now played through me would act like a one-way mirror, reflecting all that was around me while allowing no one to see past it.

I finally looked down, searching for a way off this wall. Old Stan’s—the place Nuri had arranged for me to stay while I was here in Central—was only a few buildings away to my left, but it probably wasn’t wise to go anywhere near that inn right now. I might be wearing a very different form from any of those I’d used when I was there, but Sal had known I’d been staying there. If his partners weren’t cross-checking the identity of everyone who used the place, I’d be very surprised.

I padded along the wall, looking for a building tall enough to provide a dropping-down point. I might have a tiger’s sure-footedness, but I also had that stupid fear of heights to contend with.

As I moved farther away from the inn and the ramshackle collection of buildings that represented the market section, the buildings that hugged the wall grew ever taller and I soon found a drop that was only a couple of floors. I took another of those deep breaths that did little to calm the butterflies and irrational fears, and jumped down. I landed safely, my fingers barely brushing the rooftop as I steadied myself, then continued on down, jumping from rooftop to rooftop until I reached a building that provided a one-story drop to street level.

Once I’d checked that no one was watching, I released the shield. As the motes of lights danced around me and faded away, dizziness hit, a warning that while I might be physically healed, my strength still wasn’t up to par. I waited until it passed, then quickly altered my appearance. With that done, I made my way along Twelfth Street until I found one of the cross streets that allowed people to walk from one sector to the next. As was the case with most, this one was a three-meter-wide canyon between two high-rise buildings bathed in UV light.

Winter Halo was easy enough to find. It was a glass-fronted ten-story building situated not far away from Ruby’s, the lovely restaurant Sal had taken me to. I paused briefly, studying Winter Halo through its reflection in the windows of the building opposite. Two silver-clad, orange-haired women guarded the front entrance and there were security cameras situated on each corner. Plenty of people were exiting the building, but none was the man I was after. I waited several more seconds, then moved on before I began to attract attention.

How was I going to find out whether Keller had left or not? I could hardly question the guards—that would only raise suspicion. Besides, their rather stern and unhappy expressions were enough to put me off approaching them. My only other option was questioning someone once they’d left the building.

I crossed the street again and waited in the doorway of a place not far away. A random assortment of people continued to go in and out of Winter Halo, but I was looking for someone who had a more authoritative air about him—someone who might have a higher level of knowledge about the company than a mere office worker.

About ten minutes later, a white-suited, rather distinguished-looking gentleman with silvery hair exited the building and began walking toward me. Not only was he talking into the comm on his wrist and paying scant attention to where he was going, but he was also a shifter—a cat of some kind, if the scent I was picking up was anything to go by. It made him the perfect target.

I briefly closed my eyes and began to flood the air with pheromones. While for most this was an automatic attraction response, we lures had been designed to seduce. I could not only release pheromones at will, but also increase or decrease the potency of them, depending on how fiercely I needed my target to be attracted.

Of course, my control wasn’t so absolute that I could totally override instinct. My attraction to Jonas was evidence enough of that.

In this particular case, however, I just needed his interest at a level where he wouldn’t immediately question my actions, but not so much so that he could think of nothing more than bedding me.

I flexed my fingers in an attempt to ease the gathering tension, and when he was almost level with the doorway in which I stood, I stepped out and cannoned into him. I hit with enough force to send us both tumbling, but his arms automatically went around me, cushioning my fall even as we hit the pavement.

“Oh Rhea, I’m sorry,” I said, even as I wrapped my fingers around his arm and opened the floodgates on my seeker skills.

Seeking wasn’t telepathy—we couldn’t directly read thoughts; we simply picked up a mix of emotion and mental images and made judgments from those. My skills were more honed to bedroom use, but I could still snatch information from something as simple as a touch if I went into the process with one single question that needed answering rather than multiple.

In this case, that question was Nadel Keller—was he still in the building or had he left? Images began to flit through my mind—images that involved the stranger’s most recent actions and the people he’d talked to. Seeking answers through touch like this was often hit-and-miss, even if the information I was after was simple.

“It was entirely my fault,” he replied. “I was too busy booking my table for the evening to be watching where I was going.”

His voice was husky, his body responding to both my closeness and the pheromones I was outputting.

I rolled to one side but kept a light touch on his arm as he sat upright. His gaze skimmed my length, then settled on my legs—specifically, the amount of thigh the split in my tunic was revealing.

“I guess that means we’re both at fault,” I said. “As I wasn’t watching, either.”

The images kept on flowing, diving deeper into the day’s actions, continuing to provide glimpses of those he’d interacted with. So far, there was no sign of Keller.

“A gentleman should nevertheless do his utmost to avoid crashing into a lady. And I do apologize.”

He climbed to his feet. The abrupt disconnection had my mind reeling.

I made a show of trying to get up, then collapsed with a slight wince of pain and began rubbing my ankle.

Concern immediately touched his expression. “You’re hurt? Shall I call medical?”

“No, I’m sure I just landed weirdly. If you could just help me up . . .” I gave him a wide smile and held out my hand.

He gripped it. The minute our hands touched, my seeker skills flashed into overdrive. Images spun through me, but Keller’s profile was noticeably absent. Either this man didn’t know him or their paths hadn’t crossed that day.

And as much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare come out and ask. I had no idea how suspicious Sal’s partners were, or how close an eye they might be keeping on Winter Halo’s top employees, but it wasn’t worth the risk.

The stranger pulled me upright and slipped a hand under my elbow in support as I wobbled about on one leg. His grip was firm and warm, and perhaps a touch more intimate than required. Even so, I ramped up the strength of my pheromone output a little. I didn’t need him thinking too much right now.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His gaze skimmed me, but it held a whole lot more appreciation than concern. “Because it wouldn’t take long—”

“I’m fine.” I put some weight on my foot to demonstrate and gave him another warm smile. “Thanks for the concern, though.”

“Do you need help to get anywhere?”

I hesitated. “I’m actually supposed to be meeting a friend at Seven Sins, but I don’t know this area very well. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, do you?”

“I do, thanks to the fact that the ladies in my office seem to talk about nothing else.” His smile flashed, and it lent warmth to his otherwise austere features. “It’s two blocks up, but over on Seventh. I can escort you there, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

“Well, if you do happen to find yourself at a loose end later this evening, I’d love to buy you a drink to apologize for my clumsiness. I’ve booked a table at Zendigah’s on Second at eight.” He hesitated and gave me a crooked smile. “I’m Charles Fontaine, by the way.”

“Cat.” It was the first name that came to my mind, and my using it would undoubtedly amuse my little ghost immensely.

“Short for Catherine?”

“Yes, though no one but my mother ever called me that.”

“Then I certainly shan’t.” He gave me a nod. “I hope to see you tonight.”

“And perhaps you will.” I caught his arm and leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. There was no suspicion in his thoughts, only a wish to continue the conversation.

With that, I left him. While his regret chased me, he remained where he was and simply watched me walk away. Which meant I’d judged the attraction levels just right, and that was somewhat gratifying. I might not have used the skills I’d been designed with much since the end of the war, but at least my control and judgment hadn’t lessened any in that time.

Once I’d entered the next walkway and was out of his sight, I ran toward Seventh. Few people paid me much attention; running might be frowned upon in the more genteel areas near Central’s heart, but it wasn’t so uncommon in the middle-class and poorer areas. I paused when I hit Seventh Street. I didn’t immediately spot anyone resembling Keller, so I hurried forward, studying each building as I passed it, looking for the Heldan Apartments.

I found them one block up and, at the same time, saw Keller coming out of a food collective a few doors farther on. He was a tall man with receding blond hair and a thin unpleasant face. As he turned toward his apartment, his gaze swept me, moved past, then snapped back.

Sal had told me Keller liked his women black skinned and big breasted, which was precisely why the form I was now wearing was the complete opposite in almost every way but one—my breasts. I was banking on the fact that a man whose preference ran to ladies with large breasts was always going to look even if said lady did not fit his ideals in other ways. Given Keller’s reaction, it would seem I was right. I sashayed toward him. He didn’t move; he simply watched.

But as I got close, something strange began to happen. His face lost color, blood began to trickle out of the corners of his eyes, and bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth.

Then, with little sound or elegance, he fell backward to the pavement.

Dead.