City of Light

  I rose and stepped away from the light. The room was large and square and contained nothing more than forest and concrete debris. There were no furniture remnants, no evidence that there had ever been power or light in this room, and only one door—a big sturdy metal thing that had been torn away from its hinges and now lay on its side to the left of the doorway.

  It wasn’t a room I was familiar with. But then, as a déchet, I’d been escorted into this place via the tunnel in the woods, and kept to the lower service and medical areas.

  “Where are we?” I unslung my rifle and held it ready.

  “The gas chamber.” His voice was soft, but it held a note that chilled me to the core.

  “The gas chamber?”

  “That’s what we called it.” He glanced at me. His expression was set—cold—but his eyes gleamed with a rage as old as the scent that surrounded us. “We lost a lot of people in this place the first time we breached it.”

  I frowned. That had almost sounded as if he’d been here . . . and yet, he wasn’t that old. He couldn’t be that old. It would make him easily more than one hundred years old, and even shifters didn’t hold their age that well. “We?”

  He waved a hand dismissively and moved to the doorway. “It was a historical ‘we,’ not me personally.”

  That made sense, but I had a feeling it wasn’t exactly the truth. That he’d actually meant what he’d said, impossible or not.

  “So why was it called the gas chamber?” I followed him across the room and peered over his shoulder. His rich scent filled my nostrils and provided brief relief to the foulness otherwise filling my lungs.

  The hall beyond was about four feet wide and seemed to roll on endlessly, with no other exits evident. It was a perfect place to trap someone if ever I saw one.

  “Because that’s what they did, both in this place and in that hall.” He moved forward cautiously.

  I went with him, watching every step, being careful not to stand on or kick any debris that might give away our position if there was someone hiding within the bowels of this place.

  “Gas only works once,” I said. “Wearing masks the second time would surely have fixed that problem.”

  “Except they used Draccid, and we had no protective gear against that drug at the time.”

  Draccid. I shuddered and briefly closed my eyes. Tears stung my eyes as the screams of the little ones once again echoed through my memories, and I clenched my fists against the urge to lash out at the man moving so silently in front of me. He wasn’t responsible for that destruction, even if he belonged to the race that was.

  But at least I now knew how the shifters had gotten hold of that gas—when they’d finally defeated this place, they’d obviously found stores of it.

  “How was base taken, then, if not through this breach?”

  “We found the secondary tunnel. It was protected with more traditional methods, but a few well-placed mortars soon fixed that.”

  “I’m guessing by then, the humans had evacced.”

  “The humans had, but not the déchet.”

  Of course, I thought bitterly. Rifle fodder was what déchet had been designed for, after all.

  “There’s another door up ahead,” he continued, “and an exit into the main bunker not far beyond it.”

  “If this is the bunker I discovered, then the vamps will be in the lower service levels, where the labs and regimental bunks are.”

  He briefly glanced over his shoulder. “You know this how?”

  I gave him a thin smile. “I live in a human military bunker, remember? I have no doubt they were all built along similar guidelines.”

  He grunted but didn’t look convinced by my answer. No surprise there, given he generally didn’t believe anything I said.

  We finally reached the door at the far end of the long corridor. Like the one behind us, it had been torn off the hinges and now lay several yards away in the next corridor—but this time the damage looked new rather than a product of a war long past.

  Jonas ran a finger across the frame that held the string-like remnants of what once had been thick industrial hinges.

  “Are vampires strong enough to do something like that?” I asked, frowning.

  “No, but some of the Others can.”

  “Then I can only pray to Rhea that I never come across one of those creatures.”

  “You wouldn’t know much about it if you did.” He rubbed his fingers together, and a look of distaste crossed his features. “Thankfully, the thing that did this is probably dead.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “There’s blood on the hinges and sprayed across the wall to our right. Their blood, like a vampire’s, has acid-like qualities; you can see the path of its spray by the stained pitting in the concrete.”

  “The Others would only enter this place if there was something to hunt. That might be all the proof we need that this is the base at the end of that false rift.”

  “Hardly, given there’s more than one old military base in the country.”

  “But it wasn’t mine, and the only other base within reasonable distance to Central—”

  “We go nowhere,” he cut in, voice flat and edged with finality, “until we’re sure this is the bunker you discovered.”

  We did things his way, or else, it seemed. “And if it is?”

  “Then we arrange a little cleansing party.”

  There was a note of . . . not anticipation, but something close to it, in his voice, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “I’m not going to be a member of that party. I’m not a soldier, Jonas, and I want no part of that sort of action.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Even if it helps free the missing children?”

  “The children weren’t at the base I discovered.”

  “You can’t be sure of that, given you only saw a small section of it before you set off the alarm and the vamps attacked.”

  “The Carleen ghosts said the children had been moved. Besides, the only scent in the air was that of the vampires, and that wouldn’t have been the case if the children had been there recently.”

  “Maybe they’re being held on another level. The ventilation system isn’t active, remember, and even I couldn’t smell the scent of humanity through the thick layers of concrete in this place.”

  The ventilation system might not be working, but there was fresh air getting to the lower levels. Even vampires couldn’t survive forever on foul air.

  But I didn’t bother pointing it out. Jonas had moved on, anyway.

  We walked silently through the network of corridors and stairwells. Four levels down, we began to find the bodies. Or rather, the battered remnants of what once had been bodies. The ghosts of those who’d died here flitted across the edges of my vision, and though they made no move to stop us, their fury and bitterness grew, until it became a physical weight that made both my body and heart ache.

  We mean you no harm, I said, in an effort to ease the force of their emotions. We merely seek information about the children who were recently stationed in this place.

  Images flooded my mind—images of death and destruction, of the blood that had soaked the walls of this place and flooded the floors. Images of the fallen who, even after death, had been given no peace, no final resting place, but rather had their bodies hacked to pieces and their parts scattered, simply because the shifters had falsely believed that déchet could rise even after death.

  My stomach rose and I stumbled several steps, scattering leg bones as I battled not to lose everything I’d eaten for breakfast.

  Jonas immediately swung around. “What’s wrong?”

  “The ghosts,” I somehow said, in between huge gulps of air. It didn’t ease the need to be violently ill, given the air was as foul as the images flooding my mind.

  He frowned. “Are they projecting?”

  “And how.” I pressed a hand against the wall, but it was slick and cold, despite the blood that oozed warmly across my fingertips . . . br />
  It was all I could do not to jerk my hand away. It wasn’t real, it was memory. Their memory, not mine. And memories couldn’t hurt me.

  But the ghosts could. If their anger got strong enough, if the energy they were creating got fierce enough, they could very easily tear me—tear us both—apart.

  “You need to get out of here,” I said abruptly.

  “Not until we’re sure—”

  “Now,” I said, cutting him off. “Before they decide to do more than simply flood my mind with images.”

  “But why would the ghosts . . .” He stopped, and understanding dawned in his eyes. “We did this to them.”

  “Yes,” I said. “You did. And your presence in this place, where what is left of them rests, is very unwelcome. Retreat while you can, shifter; I’ll continue on alone.”

  “That may not be wise—”

  “What other choice have we got?” Another wave of anger and imagery flooded my mind and made me shudder. “Contact Nuri once you get back to the surface. If this is the bunker I found, then she will have to appease these ghosts before any of you are able to deal with the vampires.”

  He hesitated, then nodded and resolutely moved toward the stairwell. I waited to see if the ghosts followed, but they seemed content to remain here, where death had found them.

  I am not shifter, I said. I am what you were—déchet. I’m sorry you were murdered in a manner such as this, but I do not deserve to bear the brunt of your bitterness.

  Their anger, if anything, increased. My surviving when they hadn’t was not a point in my favor, apparently.

  I swore softly and called to the shadows within me, letting them wrap around my body and make me one with the darkness rather than flesh. It didn’t ease the force of their empathic attack, but it at least allowed me to move with greater speed through the place.

  I flowed down through the levels quickly and silently, finding no hint of vampires or, indeed, anything or anyone else. Just a lot more bones and ghosts. Thousands had to have died there in an effort to hold that place; no wonder the war had gone ill for humanity after its fall.

  Two more levels down, I found the vampires.

  There were only eight of them in this section, and they were curled up on the floor in what looked like an old storeroom. Scattered around their sleeping bodies was not only the debris of the dead, but boxes and furniture remnants from the base itself.

  I didn’t stop; I didn’t dare. Not when doing so risked one of them sensing my presence and raising the alarm. Besides, I needed to discover whether this was the place the false rift had deposited me.

  Nuri and Jonas could uncover whatever else might be here. If this was the base of operations for whatever they were doing to the children—and the newness of the lab I’d found certainly seemed to indicate that was the case—then surely there’d be files to find, at the very least.

  I moved down to the next level and quickly explored it. The metal walls of the corridor and rooms became slick and rusty, reminding me of the ones I’d seen beyond the room that had held the false rift. My heart began to race a little faster; this might be it.

  I moved cautiously through another doorway, and encountered a sea of unmoving flesh. Vampires, at least two score of them. I hesitated, but really had no choice but to keep exploring. Just because there were more vampires here didn’t mean I was in the right place.

  But the next level down, I found both the corridor and laboratory I’d seen earlier. Relief spun through me, but it was mixed with trepidation. I’d already had to fight for my life in this place once; I had no desire for a repeat session.

  Even so, I hesitated at the T intersection, looking toward the room that held the false rift, tempted to go check if it was still there. But there’d been far too many vampires clustered in the rooms leading off the corridor, and the thick sensation of them certainly hadn’t eased any since then.

  In the end, caution won out. I spun and retreated, as fast as I could. My task here was done. Everything else was now up to Nuri and Jonas.

  When I’d reached the upper levels and had finally moved beyond the fury of the ghosts, I regained flesh form and ran up the final few flights of stairs until I reached the fissured room. Jonas wasn’t here, but I could hear him moving around above. I slung my rifle over my shoulder, then leapt up and gripped the edges of the fissure. A heartbeat later, hands grabbed mine and I was swung up onto the roof.

  “Well?” he immediately said. “Is this the place or not?”

  “It is.” I pulled my hands free from his, but the warmth of his touch seemed to linger as I stepped back. “But there’s at least fifty vampires between this point and those labs.”

  He grimaced. “That is not so good.”

  “No.” I glanced at the sky. Given the position of the sun, it was already well after two in the afternoon. And it was going to take us several hours, at least, to get back to Central. “You’re not going to have the time to do anything this afternoon, anyway.”

  “No. Nuri’s ordered us back to Chaos, anyway. She’s gathering reinforcements and equipment for a raid tomorrow morning.”

  “As I’ve already said, I’m not taking part in that raid.”

  “Because you’re not a soldier?” He snorted and shook his head. “I’ve seen you fight, so forgive me for not believing that. I doubt there’s many a trained soldier as good as you.”

  That’s because I had been trained to fight—it just wasn’t my primary purpose. But I couldn’t exactly admit that. “Just because I’ve grown adept at fighting vampires doesn’t mean I’ve had any meaningful training.”

  “Agreed, but it’s vampires and ghosts we face here, and you’re very good against one, and can sense—if not reason with—the other. Both of those skill sets are bonuses on this sort of mission.”

  “I’m not coming back here with you, Jonas—end of story.”

  “I could leave you here.”

  “You could, but even then you can’t force me inside. Not if you want to avoid alerting the vampires.” I hesitated, then added, “Besides, I need to keep close to Sal, given there’s a damn good chance he’s involved in all this.”

  Jonas didn’t immediately comment, and his expression, as usual, gave little away. I had an odd feeling he was once again conversing with Nuri—and that meant their connection was very strong indeed. Telepathy usually had distance limits, which was why, during the war, lures had been assigned “monitors” who relayed the information back to base. Eventually he said, “That is a logical step, I suppose.”

  “You don’t know how glad I am that you and Nuri agree with me,” I said, rather sarcastically.

  Amusement flirted with his lips, and it briefly lifted the unforgiving shadows that seemed so prevalent in his bright eyes. It made me wish, once again, that he’d smile for real, and more often.

  But maybe it was a good thing he didn’t. I was attracted enough to the damn man now, despite the layers of distrust he aimed my way. I didn’t need the ice between us melting, not in any way, shape, or form.

  “Given we plan a raid tomorrow, it ultimately makes sense we keep an eye on the players. Or at least the one we’re aware of at this point.” He spun his heels and headed for the end of the building.

  “Which is why I asked the little ones to keep an eye on him today,” I said, following him. “They’ll report back to me at dusk.”

  “Good idea,” he said, “but why not keep them on him twenty-four/seven?”

  “Because while they may be ghosts, they aren’t adults. Bear was right on puberty at death, and Cat was only seven. Ghosts don’t grow and they don’t age, they just remain as they were when they died. I don’t know how shifters bring up children, but I don’t let my little ones roam around after dark, especially given the vampires’ recent attacks on our home.”

  “Neither do we.” He paused at the edge of the building and glanced at me. “Do you need a hand down?”

  I shook my head, turned around, and—ignoring the butte
rflies taking flight in my stomach—slowly lowered myself over the edge. Once I was at full arm stretch, I let go and dropped the rest of the way, landing lightly. Jonas just leapt down, his fingers barely brushing the soil as he quickly balanced and moved on.

  “But,” he added, “your little ones are ghosts. There’s not much that can hurt them.”

  “Maybe, but they are still little, even if Bear likes to think himself more of an adult than barely a teenager. And like all kids, they get scared.”

  “It’s hard to imagine ghosts capable of emotions and fear,” he said, “especially when those ghosts were déchet.”

  “Then maybe déchet aren’t what the rumors and fairy tales would have you believe.”

  He snorted. “Oh, they are, and that’s coming from experience rather than reading material.”

  “Meaning you were in the war? You may look a little battered around the edges, shifter, but I doubt you’re that old.”

  “My father was in the war, as was my uncle, and both encountered déchet more than a few times. It scarred them more than just physically.”

  There was a note in his voice—a hint of ice and utter hate—that sent chills across my skin. If he ever confirmed his suspicion that Penny was right, that I was déchet . . . I shivered and thrust the thought away. He wouldn’t find out.

  But Nuri, as an earth witch and seeker, certainly could if I wasn’t very careful in her presence.

  “The humans didn’t actually start the war, shifter. Your people did. Humans just made sure they had a reasonable chance of fighting back.”

  He snorted again. “So creating unfeeling monsters was a reasonable response, was it?”

  “There were monsters on both sides,” I snapped back. “Shifters were hardly saints themselves, even if history has been rewritten to state otherwise.”

  He cast me a look that could be described only as contemplative. “It almost sounds as if you were there.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Do I look that old to you?”