Chapter 4

I stopped, a curse on my lips, and both surprise and frustration rippling through me. No one else seemed to notice what had happened, and for several seconds people simply walked around his prone form. Then a woman screamed and two men squatted next to fallen Keller, loosening his clothes and attempting to revive him.

But I knew those signs. Keller had been poisoned. There would be no revival.

Which was frustrating, to say the least.

I walked on, around his body and the gathering crowd, and spotted Seven Sins on the opposite side of the street. After waiting for several airscooters to zip past, I walked across and grabbed a table next to the window. A waitress appeared almost immediately, and after I’d ordered a coffee and one of the macarons Jonas had mentioned, I crossed my arms and watched what was happening with Keller’s body. The two men were still attempting to bring him back, and there were several people using their wristcoms, calling either medical, the corps, or maybe even the news. Everyone else seemed content to simply watch. I skimmed their faces, looking for anyone who either snagged my instincts or looked familiar. Despite what I’d said to Jonas, I did have some idea what one of Sal’s partners looked like. The day after I’d used my seeker skills on Sal, I’d asked Cat and Bear to shadow him and report back on everything he did, and everyone he met. While he’d spent most of the day working at Hedone, a high-end brothel he’d owned, he did make one journey outside—to meet a tall, thin-faced man with shadowed skin, dark hair, and magnetic blue eyes, deep in the heart of Winter Halo. My little ghosts hadn’t liked the alien feel of that stranger, and I really had no doubt that he was one of the two people who’d been caught in that rift with Sal.

So why had they killed Keller? Was it simply a matter of tying up all loose ends? It wasn’t likely to be coincidence that Keller had been murdered not long after several bombs were set off at the bunker. Whether they’d meant to trap me in or out of it really didn’t matter; what did was the fact that they were covering their tracks and would undoubtedly be extra cautious from this point on—and that meant I’d have to do the same.

It was a good thing that the only alterations I’d made to my natural body shape were to erase the black stripes out of my silvery white hair, and increase both my height and breast size. Sal’s partners might know I could body-shift, but my short hair and the simple tunic I was wearing were currently very fashionable in Central’s expensive heart. Even if they had been watching Keller’s movements, it was doubtful they’d have picked me out of the crowd. Not when there were so many other tunic-clad, silvery-haired women and men on the streets right now.

The waitress brought over my coffee and macaron. Once I’d swiped my RFID chip over the scanner to transfer the appropriate number of credits, I picked up the macaron and cautiously bit into it. I might have ordered it for cover purposes, but, by Rhea, it was good—thin and crunchy on the outside, softer than a cloud on the inside, and the absolutely most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. If I’d known exactly how many more credits I had left, I would have ordered a couple more. And probably would have made myself utterly sick in the process, given that sweet things and I weren’t always compatible. My taste buds tended to lean more toward the bitter end of the scale—a result, no doubt, of the fact that there’d been nothing like this offered to déchet in the military bunkers, and sweets had certainly been scarce in the shifter camps I’d been sent to during the war.

I licked every tiny crumb off my fingers, then nursed my coffee and continued to watch events across the street. Both the corps and medical turned up, and an exclusion zone was quickly set up around Keller’s body. Corps interviewed the two men who’d attempted to save Keller, as well as the people who’d called in the death. There was little else they could do. Keller’s body was soon bundled into a bag and whisked away. The two corps officers moved down the street and disappeared into the Heldan Apartments. Obviously, they were going to inspect Keller’s residence. I wished I could do the same, but that would be entirely too dangerous. But it was, perhaps, an action Nuri or one of her team could undertake.

Which left me with Charles.

He might not have had anything to do with Keller either today or at any time, but I’d gotten the impression he was a fairly high-level employee within Winter Halo. If that was true, then he could at least provide me with information on either the company—and what they might be up to—or the mysterious man in charge.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already close to eight, but I doubted my being late would make much difference. Not if the evening ended in Charles taking me to bed—which was precisely my aim. My seeker skills were far more intense—and reliable—during sex.

I might have sworn after the war to only ever bed someone because I wanted to rather than had to, but there were lives at stake here. Young lives. I didn’t care what—or who—I had to do; not if the result was bringing those missing kids out from whatever hell they were currently in.

I finished my coffee and then walked out of the café and headed for Second Street. It took me close to twenty minutes to get there, then another ten to find Zendigah’s. It was a small three-story building situated on the corner of Second and a cross street into First, and its interior was as shadowed as any of these places ever got. A large—and very real—hearth dominated the small room. The fire belted out so much heat the air practically shimmered, and there were half a dozen leather sofas scattered about, most occupied by white-clad gentlemen either reading or drinking. Charles wasn’t among them.

A waiter made his way through the chairs and gave me a welcoming smile. “How may I help you this evening?” His voice was soft and plummy, and perfectly matched his plush surroundings.

“I believe Charles Fontaine might be expecting me.”

“Ah yes, he did mention there might be an additional guest this evening. Please, this way.”

I followed him through the small room and up a rather steep set of stairs. The second level held six well-spaced tables, all of which were occupied, but we moved on to the third—and final—level. This floor was almost entirely all glass, and it gave a view directly down the cross street and into Central’s one and only park. Charles’s table held the prime spot for that view, which had to mean he was not only high-level within Winter Halo, but also rather wealthy. A view like that certainly wouldn’t come cheap, no matter what the establishment.

He looked up as we approached, and a pleased smile creased his features as he rose.

“I do hope your invitation was sincere,” I said as the waiter pulled out the chair opposite. I subtly began releasing pheromones again. “Otherwise this could get a little awkward.”

“No, no, I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.” He waited until I was seated, then sat back down. “I’ve only just ordered—would you like something?”

“Whatever you’re having will be fine.” And undoubtedly far better than anything I would have had back at the bunker. “How are you feeling after our rather abrupt meeting this evening?”

“I think I’ve come away with nothing more than a bruised hip. Yourself?”

“Same.” I smiled up at the waiter as he poured me a wine, then picked up the glass and raised it. “To new friendships.”

Charles clicked his glass against mine, then took a drink, his gaze scanning me appreciatively over the top of the glass. “I have to admit some surprise that a lady as lovely as yourself was unattended.”

Which was a very subtle way of asking if there was anyone in my life. I smiled. “I could say the same about a gentleman such as yourself.”

“Ah well, I’m afraid I’m rather committed to my work. It makes relationships . . . difficult.”

“Just so.” I took a drink. “So, what work is it that you’re so committed to, if it’s not impolite to ask?”

“I’m the financial director at Winter Halo.” He grimaced. “It is a somewhat demanding position.”

Financial director? Intuition really had picked a ripe one when it had settled on this man; if he didn’t know where the skeletons were buried, few would.

“And one I suspect you do not wish to talk about.”

“Well, not really. What about yourself?”

“I’m currently between positions.” I shrugged. “And certainly not in a hurry to find anything right now. I’m enjoying the leisure time.”

He smiled and started talking about what he did on his days off. I listened attentively, nodding and laughing wherever appropriate. Which isn’t to say I wasn’t enjoying myself—Charles was a nice if somewhat old-fashioned gentleman, and the food and the view were spectacular.

As the waiter brought us both a coffee, Charles leaned back in the chair, his expression warm but somewhat contemplative. “I’ve really enjoyed this evening.”

“Yes, it’s been lovely.” Which didn’t give him much in the way of a lead-in, but that was deliberate. Going back to his place had to be his idea, not mine.

“Yes.” His gaze briefly dropped to my breasts. Desire spun, sharper than before. Keller wasn’t the only one who was a breast man, obviously. After a small pause, Charles added, “If it’s not too forward of me, would you like to come back to my place for a nightcap?”

“Are we talking cognac?”

“We certainly are.”

“Then I would love to.”

He immediately called for the waiter and paid the bill. We walked outside in companionable silence, but the night air was crisp. I shivered and rubbed my arms; I needed to get some warmer clothes if this seduction went any further than one night.

Charles took off his coat and swung it around my shoulders. “My apartment isn’t too far away, though we’ll have to walk, as I don’t own a vehicle.”

He slid one hand down my spine to a point just above my tailbone. It was a point that would have informed him I was wearing no undergarments. The scent of desire grew sharper.

“A short walk will be pleasant after such a lovely meal.” I stepped a little closer so that my shoulder brushed his. His body trembled with expectation, which made me wonder just how long it had been since he’d lain with a woman.

His apartment was situated two blocks down from Zendigah’s, right behind the area on First Street that held most governmental buildings. Regulations restricted construction height to a maximum of twenty levels on both First and Second, and his building was one of the tallest. He scanned us in, then escorted me to the elevator. It, like the building itself, was glass fronted and, as we got higher, offered amazing views over the parkland. His apartment was situated on the twentieth level—a top position that was not only the most prestigious but also the most expensive.

The elevator opened into a foyer that was spacious, bright, and white. There were only two doors—one on the left, the other on the right. Charles touched my back and guided me right. The sensor beeped as we approached and then the door opened. Obviously, it had been programmed to respond to his RFID chip.

The room beyond was one vast white space, with walls of glass on two sides that provided spectacular views over Government House or the park. The furniture was either white leather or glass, and even the air smelled different; cleaner.

“This place is beautiful,” I said.

“The building is family owned. I inherited this apartment from my grandmother.” He took the coat from my shoulders. After hanging it up, he walked across the room and pulled out a beautifully ornate bottle from a drinks cabinet, pouring a generous amount of alcohol into two large balloon glasses.

“And I would think you’d thank your grandmother every day for gifting you with such a gorgeous view.”

I went over to the window, knowing the bright lights of the nearby UVs would make my tunic translucent.

“I was rather lucky. But then, I was also her only grandson.”

He moved toward me. Though I wasn’t actually watching him, the strengthening scent of desire told me he was enjoying the view.

“Then why do you work?” I asked. “It sounds as if you don’t need to.”

He handed me a glass. “Because I want to. And because my other option is not one I wish just yet.”

I didn’t ask what that option was, simply because a note in his voice suggested he didn’t want to talk about it. Silence fell as we sipped our drinks. After five or so minutes had passed, I leaned back against him. His free hand slid around my waist, his fingers briefly skimming the underside of my breasts. Desire stirred; it wasn’t a fierce thing, wasn’t a rush, but I nevertheless welcomed it. Seduction was always easier when I felt at least some connection, and that hadn’t always been the case during the war, despite my natural affinity to shifters. But then, I’d never found brutal men appealing, in bed or out, and many of the generals during that time had been little more than the beasts they accused déchet of being.

Once I’d finished, he plucked my glass from my hand, then turned me around and kissed me. It was at first almost too polite, but it deepened—became more ardent—once he realized I was willing.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed closer. His kisses became fiercer, his tongue tasting and exploring my mouth. Then he pulled away, caught the end of my tunic, and tugged it over my head. He tossed it onto the nearby sofa and stood back.

“Magnificent,” he murmured as his gaze did a long, slow journey down my body. “Just magnificent.”

Then he stepped close again and with hands and mouth tasted, teased, and explored. I undid his shirt and slipped it from his shoulders, but as I loosened his trousers to caress the heat of his erection, he caught my hand, stopping me.

“This will be over far too fast if you do that.” Amusement warred with desire in his expression. “I also believe we have provided the neighbors with enough entertainment.”

He tugged me away from the window and led me into one of two rooms at the rear of the apartment. It was a bedroom complete with a huge glass bath—something I’d never seen before. The bed itself was equally impressive—a huge round thing covered in white silk and furs.

Sensation rippled through me as I lay down, and memories of times past when I’d lain on coverings such as this stirred. At least this time I was doing so of my own free will.

“Before we continue,” he murmured, tracing a circle around my belly button, “I need to inform you that while I might be in my twilight years, I am still fully fertile.”

“Your scent told me that. But it’s not a problem.” But not, as he would undoubtedly presume, because I was protected from impregnation, but because I’d been created sterile.

He smiled and continued his seduction, until sweat sheened his body and desire was evident in mine. Only then did he let me touch him, caress him. Only then did he let me climb on top of him and drive him deep inside.

That was the moment I unleashed my seeker skills.

My energy and my aura merged with his, entwining as intimately as our bodies were now entwined. Emotions and thought became something I could see and taste, memories something I could raid. I ran swiftly through the surface images, sensing in them utter delight and monstrous need. It really had been a long time since he was with a woman.

I plunged deeper, seeking hidden recesses and pockets of memories. Saw, in rapid succession, fragmented images of the past week—his actions, the projects he was working on, the financial problems he was dealing with, as well as those who worked under him. I dove deeper still, looking for information on the man who ran Winter Halo, and caught a name—Rath Winter. An image rose, one that matched what the ghosts had already given me. And with it came a sense of frustration; whatever Rath Winter had Charles doing right now, Charles wasn’t happy with it.

I wanted to chase those emotions down and try to find out why, but I refrained. Cats tended to be a little more sensitive to such intrusions than other shifters, so it was always better to access information over a period of sessions than to attempt to gather it all at one time.

I slowly—carefully—withdrew. As awareness of the here and now resurfaced, I reimmersed myself into the sensations flooding my body. Became aware of his hands on my hips, holding me down, and his teeth as he alternately grazed and then suckled my breasts. Became aware of his groans as his body became more demanding and desperate.

I rode him harder and harder, until his roar of completeness echoed in the stillness as his seed pumped deep inside me.

For several seconds neither of us moved. Then I leaned forward and kissed him gently. “That was very pleasant indeed.”

He chuckled softly and touched a hand to my cheek, running a thumb across my lips. “And that was most definitely an understatement.”

“Perhaps.” I slid to one side and ran a finger down his chest. “So, are you the type of gentleman who hustles a lady out the door once he’s had his wicked way with her, or are you the sort who provides breakfast?”

“Definitely the latter if the lady is willing.”

“The lady is most definitely willing.” I let my fingers trail across his flaccid cock. It jumped lightly in response. Charles might be a centenarian with an unadventurous bent when it came to lovemaking, but he certainly wasn’t lacking in sexual stamina. “Especially since I’d really love to try out that bath of yours.”

He laughed and immediately got off the bed. In very little time, we were ensconced in hot, bubbly water and drinking cognac.

I’d certainly had worse assignments in the past.

*   *   *

Charles was as good as his word and made breakfast while I took a shower. I left with a promise to meet him again tomorrow night. While I would have preferred to attempt a second reading of him tonight, I needed to get a new identity in place—one that matched the name I’d given him.

Unfortunately, the only person who could provide that was Nuri. I might have wanted to avoid getting involved with them again, but if it meant getting the information I needed to free those children, then I would.

I walked along Second Street until I found a walkway leading to Victory Street, the only street that ran in a direct line between Central’s two gates. The walkway was empty, so I quickly wrapped a light shield around my body. The last thing I needed was anyone spotting me moving toward Chaos in this form. It probably would have been better to simply change back to my natural body, but it would also be a waste of energy. I’d have to change back again for Nuri to readjust the information in my newly acquired RFID chip, so it was better to stay as I was.

I headed north down Victory and eventually reached the huge gatehouse. The ends of the silver curtain that Central used in place of the more conventional portcullis had been drawn up for the day’s exodus, and the drawbridge was almost lowered. I held back, waiting until the bridge was down and most of the crowd had flowed across, then followed them out. The sensors fitted into the thick metal walls didn’t react to my presence, though they would have had there been more vampire in my DNA. It had taken ten years to completely rebuild Central, and by then not only had all the HDP bases been well and truly destroyed, but the déchet population and all those who had created and looked after us had been decimated. It had never occurred to anyone that someone might have survived such destruction, so they never built that possibility into their security systems—an oversight I was extremely grateful for. Feeding myself would have been far more problematic had I not been able to make regular raids into Central.

Once I was beyond the rail yards and out of sight, I released the shield and silently called for Cat and Bear. I might have to go into Chaos to get what I needed, but I had no desire to go in alone.

As I walked up the hill toward the ramshackle community, my two ghosts zipped around me, excitedly filling me in on the morning’s events. Apparently, the engineers were back, trying to decide whether the museum was worth salvaging or not. The other little ones were having great fun moving their equipment around.

The metal containers that made up most of Chaos’s ground level soon came into view. They were garishly decorated and basically supported the weight of the ten levels above them. They were used as shops, factories, and trading posts, and were only now finding life thanks to the fact that the sun had fully risen. The inhabitants of Chaos might show little concern about the vampires, but they didn’t invite trouble, either. When dusk returned, all those who worked here would retreat upward, and all ladders and stairs would be either drawn up or locked down. It didn’t often help, but the illusion of safety was better than nothing, I suppose. As I walked through the six-foot gap that was the designated entrance into this side of Chaos, the shadows closed in and the fear of being caged—of having no room and no air—swiftly followed. I swallowed heavily and forced my feet on, hitching up the ends of my tunic as I splashed through water that was thick and oily while trying to avoid the muck that dripped steadily from above. Rubbish lay in gathering drifts, emitting a stench that was a putrid mix of rotting fish and human waste. Central did provide a degree of medical, water, and sanitation support to Chaos, but just about everything else was acquired via theft or trading. Only those who lived in the upper portions of Chaos had the money to purchase anything.

I climbed the first staircase and moved on swiftly through the next couple of levels. As usual, Cat kept close, but Bear scouted ahead, checking everyone out. Just as those people we could see—and undoubtedly the ones we couldn’t—were checking me out. My fingers itched with the need for a gun, but it was probably just as well I didn’t have one. Nuri lived in the middle of the mercenary district, and mercenaries tended to be trigger-happy at the best of times. While I had no doubt she’d have sent out word to let me pass unhindered, I wasn’t about to trust everyone in the district to obey her. She might be a powerful witch, and she might be someone most of them respected, but they were still mercenaries—and that made them untrustworthy in my book.

I eventually made it to Run Turk Alley and once again had to weave my way through the maze of extended legs and dark gazes of the men who lounged there. Nuri’s building was a construction of wood and metal coated with years of grime, graffiti, and advertising posters. It was also three times the size of the other buildings in the alley, and even had several windows along its frontage—all of which were barred.

I opened the door and stepped inside. The ghosts zipped ahead of me to check the room, their energy a mix of excitement and tension. The first time we’d walked into this place I’d been darted with Iruakandji—a drug that had been developed in the latter part of war by the HDP, but one that had only been used on a couple of occasions. While it did kill shifters with great alacrity, it had proven extremely unviable as a weapon thanks to the discovery that it was also deadly to déchet, no matter how little shifter blood they had in them. The fact that I’d survived the darting was due in no small part to my immunity to all known toxins and poisons.

The main room was all but empty. Two sturdy-looking men stood at an old wooden bar to my right, nursing drinks that looked too dark to be regular beer. There was no one sitting at the odd selection of tables directly in front, and booths to my left were also empty. The bartender was a woman I didn’t recognize.

Her gaze scanned me critically. Deciding whether I was a potential threat, I suspected. Eventually, she said, “Can I help you?”

“I’m here to see Nuri.”

“She expecting you?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “More than likely.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, then motioned with her chin to the rear of the building. “She’s out back.”

“Thanks.”

I followed Cat and Bear through the main room and into the next. This room was smaller and held a ramshackle collection of chairs as well as a solitary table that had seen better days. Nuri stood next to an old electric stove near the center of the room; she was a rotund woman with rosy cheeks and wiry hair that ballooned around her head like a sea of steely snakes. Though she didn’t, in any way, look dangerous, she was undoubtedly the most formidable woman in this section of Chaos—if not the entire city. The force of her energy—a force that came from the fact that she was an earth witch as well as a seeker of some power—electrified the air. To someone like me—someone who was sensitive to such energy and a seeker besides—she appeared surrounded by a halo of flickering, fiery blue.

“Tiger,” she said, glancing around. “This is a surprise.”

I doubted it, given her expression and the amusement lurking around the corners of her sharp brown eyes. “I need help.”

“Indeed?” She turned back to the stove and continued stirring whatever she was cooking—which smelled delicious enough to have my mouth watering. “I was under the impression you wanted nothing to do with us.”

“Yeah, well, as I said to Jonas yesterday, you’re apparently intent on ignoring what I want, so I might as well make use of you.”

“Indeed,” she repeated, the amusement stretching to her lips. “And what is it that you want?”

I asked my two little ghosts to keep an eye on the exits, then walked across to the stove. “Some of that stew would be a good start.”

She chuckled. “There’s bowls under that bench over there. Grab three—Jonas will be here soon enough.”

I did as she bade and watched as she generously filled them. Jonas appeared as I was carrying two of the bowls across the table and stopped somewhat abruptly, his nostrils flaring when he saw me.

Which made me damn glad I’d taken the time to shower.

“Impressive.” His tone was neutral, but amusement teased the corners of his mouth and eyes. “I’m gathering that particular body alteration is not for the benefit of anyone here.”

“You gather right, Ranger.” I sat down, grabbed a spoon from the cutlery holder in the center of the table, and tucked in.

He sat down opposite me and pulled the second bowl closer to himself. “Then can I ask just who it was meant for?”

“Nadel Keller, initially. Sal told me his preference ran to dark-skinned ladies with large breasts, but I figured he would never ignore an impressive rack regardless of skin color.”

“Few men would.”

“Yourself included?”

The amusement in those sharp green eyes was deeper. “I would never ignore such an attraction if they came my way, though I am of the firm belief that more than a handful is something of a waste.”

Just for an instant, there was something in his smile that made me wonder yet again whether he was actually attracted to me, or if it was simply some sort of game he was playing.

Nuri joined us at the table, placing a round of bread between us and breaking the moment. Whatever the moment actually had been.

“So,” she said, tearing off a chunk of bread before pushing it my way, “what do you need?”

“Three things, the first being a new identity. One whose name is Cat—which will need to be short for Catherine.” Little Cat clapped her hands in delight at this bit of news, and a smile tugged my lips.

“That is simple enough to do,” Nuri commented. “But I’m thinking the rest of your requests will not be.”

“No.” I munched on the bread and contemplated her for several seconds. “I need the identity to be based on Third Street—at the very least—and I need enough credits to go with such an identity.”

She leaned back in the chair. “As I suspected, a tall order. Why?”

“Because Nadel Keller is dead, and I’ve found a new target.”

“Did you kill Keller?” Jonas asked.

I glanced at him. “No. He was poisoned. He dropped dead on Seventh before I got anywhere near him.”

“Meaning Sal’s partners are tying up loose ends.”

“So it would seem.”

“Who is your new target?” Nuri asked.

“Charles Fontaine. He’s the—”

“Financial director at Winter Halo,” Nuri finished for me. “And the perfect subject for information gathering.”

I frowned a little at the odd emphasis she seemed to place on information—it was almost as if Charles had more information to give than just about Winter Halo. And maybe he did—it wasn’t like I knew all that much about him at the moment. “My selecting him was more good luck than good judgment.”

Nuri smiled. “Perhaps. And perhaps the goddess is favoring our quest.”

“Maybe. None of us are dead yet, after all.”

Her smile grew. “What did you tell Fontaine about yourself?”

“Not a lot. I’m currently between jobs and enjoying the free time.” I hesitated. “I’m also going to need more clothes. I cannot keep meeting him in the same tunic.”

“Especially given that the seams on the current one would appear ready to give way,” Jonas commented.

“Nice of you to be worried about such an event happening, Ranger.”

His smile flashed. “Oh, I’m not. Trust me on that.”

An answering smile tugged at my lips, though I didn’t reply.

“Everything you’ve asked for we can achieve,” Nuri said. “Even if it will take some time to do so. It does create another problem, however.”

“Just the one?” I said, amused. I tore off some more bread and dunked it into my stew. “And what might that be?”

“The Winter Halo security position. While they might not question Fontaine gaining a new lover, they most certainly will if said lover also applied for a position at Winter Halo.”

“I couldn’t apply as Cat—wrong hair color for a start.”

“Which isn’t a problem, given you can change it at will,” Jonas said.

“Yes, but then my looks won’t match my RFID chip, and that is a problem.”

“That it is,” Nuri said. “Perhaps what we need is not only someone already working at Winter Halo with the same blood group as you, but someone who happens to be left-handed.”

I frowned at her. “How is that going to help the situation?”

“RFID chips are always inserted into the dominant hand,” Jonas said.

“Meaning I could wear two separate chips, and no one would be the wiser?”

“As long as you kept aware of which hand you were using in each identity, then no, they shouldn’t,” Nuri said.

“How much more difficult will it be to find a left-hander?”

She shrugged. “We have some access to their personnel profiles.”

I refrained from asking how. Right now I really didn’t want to know just how close their links with the government were—and I just hoped Nuri meant it when she said both my ghosts and I would be left alone when all this was over. “And these profiles list whether you’re right- and left-handed?”

“RFID chips do. Even sexual preferences are listed on the things.”

“Is nothing sacred?” I asked, somewhat bemused by this news.

“Not since the war. What blood group are you?”

“O-positive.”

“Good. Having the most common blood group makes our task a little easier.” Nuri pushed upright and walked over to the old bench. When she returned, she handed me a small piece of paper. On it was a name—Kendra James. “She’s a former employee of Winter Halo who is willing to talk. I’ve set up a meeting with her for ten this morning.”

I glanced at the old timepiece on the wall. It was now after nine, so she wasn’t giving me a whole lot of time to get back into Central. “Where? And what does she look like?”

“Place called Farmers on Twelfth, about a block up from the market. And aside from the orange hair, she has a nose ring.”

Which was unusual, as most shifters tended to avoid piercings. “And there’s enough credits on the current chip to at least buy her a drink?”

Nuri nodded. “We put five hundred on it, so more than enough.”

Meaning I could have had more of those macarons. I finished my stew, then pushed the bowl away and rose. “How long will it take to set up the new ID?”

“When is your next meeting with Fontaine?” Nuri countered.

“Tomorrow night.”

“Good. We should have it mostly set up by then.” She hesitated. “Be wary if you head into Carleen over the next couple of days—there have been some very bad vibrations coming from that place recently.”

I frowned. “Bad in what way?”

“There is a dark magic growing in there now—a magic far blacker than the stuff that guards the false rifts. It stains the earth and fouls the air; I can feel the force of it from here.”

“That’s probably the huge wall that has been raised around the main plaza. It protects the false rift that was shifted there recently.” I grimaced. “The ghosts were complaining that it blights their bones with its malevolence.”

She frowned. “Can you describe it?”

I hesitated. “There’s no sign or indication that it exists when you approach it. There’s not even any sort of energy overflow. But it is, according to little Cat, two trees high, and when you get within arm’s reach, a thin strap of green light snaps up from the ground and attempts to snare you. Its feel is foul, and it’s unlike anything I’ve come across before.”

“That sounds like the energy of the earth itself has been corrupted,” Nuri murmured. “And if that is the case, we are truly dealing with a witch of some power.”

Of that I had no doubt. “Can you counter such a barrier?”

She hesitated. “It takes time to dismantle spells from unknown origins, and I fear that is something we do not have enough of.”

My frowned deepened. “Meaning time is running out for those kids?”

“Yes.” She rubbed a hand across her eyes, and for the first since I’d met her, I sensed fear. “But my main worry is what these people intend. If they’re anywhere near finding a form of immunity for either the vampires or the wraiths, we are all in deep trouble.”

A chill ran through me—a chill caused not so much by her statement, but rather by a sinking feeling that the vampires would attack en masse sometime in the very near future.

I shivered and rubbed my arms. “When I asked Sal why he and his partners had separated the five children we rescued from the others, he said it was because they had outlasted their usefulness.”

Jonas frowned. “Did you ask why?”

I nodded. “Yes, but he didn’t really say. He just said that all the children in the program were either survivors of the rift doorways or the children of said survivors.”

I hadn’t actually been aware that there were two types of rifts at the time, but, according to Sal, while most did kill, the small minority that were doorways bled not only magic into this world, but also the matter—the very atoms of creation—from the other side. And this meant that those who survived such doorways were neither of this world nor of the other, but a creation of both.

Nuri and Jonas shared a long glance. In that moment, I remembered all the times I’d not only glimpsed the darkness in Penny’s eyes, but also seen it in theirs.

It was a darkness I’d also glimpsed in Sal’s eyes, and one I now knew to be the darkness of a rift.

Both Jonas and Nuri were rift survivors.