The big question was, though, would I even last long enough to escape?
Nuri might want to question me, but she’d made no mention of actually keeping me alive after that.
I flexed my fingers. I had to stop worrying over things I could do nothing about. It was time to focus on the things I could—like the storm of poison ripping through my body.
I crossed my legs and closed my eyes, focusing on my breathing, on every intake of air as it washed through my nostrils and down into my lungs, until a sense of calm began to descend. It was in this state that my body had been designed to fast-track healing, and, after a few heartbeats, the fire in my flesh began to ease, as did the ache in my head.
The cell door retracted. I didn’t open my eyes, concentrating on the repair, desperate to get as close to full working order as was possible. Even so, I knew the first person to step into the room was Nuri. Interestingly, she didn’t have any particular scent, although the smell of ale, soap, and water clung to her clothes. It wasn’t her, though.
She didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything. She just stood there, studying me. After several moments, I realized she was waiting for Jonas. He eventually arrived and filled the air with the scent of cat, wind, and evening rain—an odd but interesting combination. But there was also a darkness to his scent that had the hairs along the back of my neck rising. There was anger and barely controlled violence in that darkness, and it reminded me forcibly that whatever else this man was, he belonged to a breed of soldier that had single-mindedly mutilated and killed my kind.
Nuri finally walked around me, her steps light despite her large frame. My skin twitched at her closeness, crawled with the sense of her power.
The ghosts crowded closer, their little bodies pressed against mine, their fear and anger clawing at my inside. Calm, just stay calm, I whispered internally, not entirely certain who I was trying to reassure—them or me.
As Nuri’s fiery presence retreated toward the doorway, I finally opened my eyes.
Only to meet Jonas’s gaze.
Something within me tightened; it wasn’t fear, but something far more base. I’d been specifically designed to be like honey to a bee when it came to shifters, but a side effect was that I was inordinately attracted to them. And even though there was far more to me than the task for which I’d been bred, I couldn’t entirely deny my nature. Not even now, in a situation as uncertain as this.
If he felt even an inkling of attraction, it certainly wasn’t showing—not in his scent, and not in his expression or body language. In fact, not even the darkness I sensed within him showed in those vivid, cat-green depths. Indeed, given the casual way he leaned a shoulder against the door frame, it would have been easy to believe he wasn’t particularly interested in either me or whatever was about to happen.
At least he appeared to be over whatever it was that had assailed him—even if his sun-browned skin still seemed pale and his cheeks held a slight gauntness that made his sharp nose look even more aristocratic. Even with that nose—or maybe because of it—he could definitely be called handsome. But not classically so—there was a roughness to his features that made them far more interesting than beautiful.
“Why did you attack me?” My words came out stronger than I expected, and for that I was grateful. If I was to have any hope of convincing them I wasn’t déchet, then I couldn’t give any indication that the drug they’d administered had had any effect.
“Penny said you were déchet.” The back of Nuri’s skirts swished like some gigantic black curtain as she stopped near the doorway. “And she’s not a child inclined to untruths.”
“Penny also said that she’d never met you,” I replied evenly. “And that is patently untrue.”
“No, it isn’t, simply because we haven’t met in person. I know of her only through the dreams.”
“Meaning what? That you’re some kind of witch?”
“Some kind.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. Obviously I’d been right in guessing she was full human, because the silver curtain had no effect on the unprotected areas of her skin.
“So you take the word of a child you’ve never actually met, and attack the stranger responsible for saving both her and one of your own? Nice. Real nice.”
“Perhaps not, but our reaction is understandable if you are what Penny says you are.”
“I’m not. You should be able to see that just by looking at me.”
“Unlikely,” Jonas growled. His voice was deep, rich, and oddly melodious, despite the anger within it. I doubted he’d originated from anywhere around here, as those from both Central and Chaos seemed to have a more guttural edge. “There were many rumors during the war about déchet who bore neither the marks nor the scent of their kind.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And there were just as many rumors stating they could fly and walk through walls. Neither of those were true, from what I’ve read. Besides, didn’t your lot ensure all remaining déchet were obliterated after the war?”
“And yet you apparently live in the remains of one of their major bases,” Nuri noted. “And wear the military uniform of the déchet.”
“I live in a couple of rooms, one of which is a storeroom containing—among other things—tons of uniforms,” I corrected. “Last I heard, that wasn’t a crime.”
“It is when you’re carrying weapons not seen since the war,” Jonas growled. “And you’re using tunnels that were supposed to be blocked.”
“The main entrances are blocked,” I replied, with a calm I certainly wasn’t feeling. Despite his nonchalance, it was obvious he wanted to fight—wanted to attack—and the strength of that desire was so strong it rolled across my skin like a heated caress. And there was a tiny, insane part of me that wished—longed—for that caress to be real rather than mere emotion. “As I said, there are only a couple of usable areas.”
“Not according to Penny,” he said.
“Penny’s a child. I wouldn’t take everything she says as gospel.”
“Penny’s not what—”
“Jonas, enough,” Nuri cut in softly, making me wonder just what the shifter had been about to reveal.
I shifted my gaze to her. “I’m not a déchet, but whether you choose to believe that is entirely up to you.”
“Perhaps,” she said. “Wipe your cheek.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You could have checked my cheek when I was unconscious.”
“We tried.” Levity briefly touched her voice. “But I’m afraid your ghosts were rather reluctant to let us close to you.”
Then how in hell had they gotten me into the cell? Magic? I eyed Nuri for a moment, suspecting that might well be possible.
Thank you for trying, little ones, I said, then scraped the end of my sleeve across my cheek as ordered. There was no identifying bar code hidden by face paint, nothing inked into my skin or under it. Our creators had been well aware that their seducers and assassins needed to be totally unidentifiable by normal déchet means.
Nuri frowned. “Nothing. And yet—”
“Nothing obvious,” the shifter cut in, “but that doesn’t prove anything. Penny isn’t often wrong.”
He uncrossed his arms and revealed a small silver cylinder. I couldn’t help a mental snort. It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had access to wartime technology. That cylinder produced a spectrum of light similar to ultraviolet, and it was the only light that could reveal the tattoo inked into the cheekbones of soldier déchet.
He flicked it on. The light hit my cheek, caressing my skin with its cold heat. Had I possessed any more vampire than I did, it would have burned.
Something flickered in the shifter’s eyes—disappointment mixed with frustration, perhaps.
“So,” Nuri said, snapping my attention away from Jonas. “It would seem you aren’t a déchet.”
“As I believe I’ve already said,” I replied. “But I’m guessing the revelation of that fact doesn’t mean you’ll actually let me go.”
r /> Amusement briefly crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Well, not yet, but only because I believe you might be able to help us.”
“I’ve helped you already, and look where it’s gotten me.” My gaze flicked back to Jonas. “I should have let the vampires tear you apart, shifter.”
His expression hardened, and I hadn’t thought that was possible. “So why didn’t you?”
“Because I promised Penny I wouldn’t.”
“As you so aptly pointed out not so long ago, Penny’s a child. You could have easily taken her and left me to die.”
“No, I couldn’t—”
“Because of that promise,” Nuri said softly, “and because you could not bear to see another child die.”
A chill went through me. I glanced sharply at her, but her gaze was unfocused, distant. Mind reader, I thought. Or, perhaps, a mind seeker. Unlike telepaths, seekers couldn’t directly read thoughts. Instead, they picked up a mix of emotion and mental images, and made judgments from those. In some ways, I was a seeker myself. Catching the emotive output of our targets was part of the reason why lures had been such successful spies. Either way, it meant I’d have to watch what I thought and imagined around her.
“My reasons for rescuing them are really not important.” I said it louder than necessary in an effort to snap the other woman from her dream. “So why don’t we get back to discussing whatever it is you actually want from me?”
Nuri blinked and her gaze refocused. But something decidedly dangerous glimmered briefly in her eyes. It oddly reminded me of the darkness I’d seen stirring in Penny’s, and it made me uneasy. Something was going on with these people. Something more than just kidnapping a stranger who’d rescued two of their own.
The ghosts stirred, and their energy stung the air, a gentle reminder of the hell they could release if I gave the word.
But I couldn’t do that yet. The simple fact was, even if I could get past these two, there were still the woman and the lion shifter. And if I managed to overpower them, the rest of Chaos stood between us and the safety of our bunker.
If it became clear they intended to kill me, however, then I’d unleash hell and take my chances. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. Not ever again.
Nuri said, “As I said, all we really want is your help.”
I laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “So instead of merely asking, you attempt to poison me and then you lock me up. Great way to gain my trust, I must say.”
“Why in hell would you expect trust, given Penny’s declaration?” Jonas retorted. “You’re a trained killer—”
“If I were a déchet, then yeah, your reaction might have been understandable,” I snapped back. “But I’m not. The mere fact I’m sitting here talking to you after being injected with Iruakandji proves that.”
“The Iruakandji also proves you are not full shifter, or else you would be far sicker,” Nuri commented, with another warning look at Jonas. “So what are you, precisely?”
“I’m the result of a shifter-and-human pairing.” The lie was automatic, and the only real way I could explain the fact I’d basically escaped the major effects of the drug. Humans were—for reasons I didn’t understand—immune to it. My gaze flicked to Jonas’s as I added, “And we all know what shifters feel about half-human bastards, even in this day and age, don’t we?”
He snorted. “There’s no human in you. I would smell it if there were.”
I raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying my mother—may Rhea be gentle with her soul—was lying?”
“Either she was, or you are.”
“Jonas, enough.” Nuri’s gaze was again intense, and her expression somewhat distracted. I kept still, both in body and thought. After a moment, she grunted and added, “What we need from you is simply your anonymity.”
My eyebrows rose. “Meaning what?”
“Meaning, we’ve done a quick record search, and there’s no one in Central’s system who matches your description. That will be a bonus when it comes to investigating what has happened to Penny.”
“I never said I was from Central.” And if they could access Central’s records, they were far more than mere mercenaries. So what were they doing here in Chaos?
“No, you did not.” Nuri hesitated. “According to Penny, you had no trouble seeing at night, and that might also be of benefit.”
My confusion deepened. “Why?”
“Because even before the war, all of us who live in the cities—both human and shifter—had grown too used to the lights. As a result, we are all but night blind.” Nuri studied me for a moment, then added, “As you would know if you grew up in this place. Or any other major city, in fact.”
I ignored the intent behind that statement, my gaze roaming from her to Jonas and back again. “You live in Chaos, not Central. This place is nothing but shadows.”
“Shadows are not night. There is a difference, trust me.”
I contemplated them. It certainly explained the light both in the bar and here. It also explained why the upper reaches of Chaos had a greater percentage of light per dwelling than the lower. More money meant more access, and more access meant greater safety.
And it meant that if I did get out of this room, I could very easily get free. I was at home in the darkness; they were not.
If they were telling the truth, that is.
“So every child born today suffers this problem?”
“Not all, certainly. There are always a few genetic throwbacks born in every generation. But Jonas is the only one in our unit who isn’t night blind.”
A chill went through me. Unit was an altogether too military-sounding word for my liking. And yet there was nothing about Nuri herself that spoke of military experience.
Her expression wasn’t giving anything away, and I couldn’t feel anything along the emotive lines. “Why are you investigating what happened to Penny and her parents? Why isn’t the corps doing so?” My gaze flickered to the ranger. “Or is this where you come into the story?”
“I’m not corps.” It was bluntly said, but there was an edge to his voice that hinted at anger. I briefly wondered if there was ever a time when he actually felt something other than anger.
“But you were.” My gaze went to the three slashes stretching down from his right temple. “Otherwise you would not bear their markings.”
“I was,” he agreed. “But I now work with Nuri.”
“As a mercenary?” It was, I believed, what they wanted everyone to think, but something about this whole situation—and them—didn’t sit right.
She nodded. “We are all mercenaries, of one sort or another.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning you sell your seeker skills to those who can afford you?”
“Interesting that you noticed my ability in that area,” she drawled. “There are few enough these days who have even heard of seekers, let alone are able to tell if they’re being read.”
“There are few about these days who can see ghosts,” I replied evenly. “But you and I can.”
“Suggesting you are also something of a reader.”
“Something,” I agreed, in much the same manner as she had earlier.
She smiled and tilted her head a little. “I like you.”
I raised my eyebrows again. “Which doesn’t mean you won’t set your dogs on me if it suits your purpose.”
She laughed, a startling, huge sound in the confined space of the cell. “It doesn’t indeed. Although they’re mostly cats rather than dogs.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “But to answer your question, yes, I do sell my skills, and there are plenty willing to pay. Central might hold itself up as a great and worthy city, but for many it has lost its shine.”
Meaning what, exactly? I had no idea, but I guessed that was no surprise given the only contact I had with Central was either raids for supplies or quests to ease more basic needs.
“So why aren’t the corps investigating the attack?” My gaze flicked to Jonas ag
ain. “And why were you two in the old park if Penny was attacked in Central?”
“Because Penny wasn’t in Central when I rescued her,” Jonas replied.
“And Central’s councillors are investigating the attack,” Nuri added. “But they can’t use the corps. They can’t afford to.”
I frowned. “Why not?”
“Because this attack is not the first, and they do not want the general population becoming aware that incursions by the wraiths are increasing in frequency.”
“How many are we talking about?”
“Fourteen over the past two years.”
Fourteen. By Rhea . . . “All from Central?”
“Ten from Central, four from Chaos. Ours were blamed on vampires, but the remainder were not.”
“Then what is the council doing to stop them? And how are they even getting into the city?”
“No one knows.” Nuri’s voice held a grim edge. “No rifts have appeared within Central, and the lights should have killed any wraith that breached the walls.”
Then how in the hell could the wraiths be snatching these children? They couldn’t. Someone—or something—else had to be at the heart of all this.
“So you two got involved when Penny’s family was attacked?” I paused, remembering Nuri’s comment. “Or are you the nonofficial investigators?”
If they were, I could not get mixed up in the situation. Not even if there were other children involved. I might be able to fool Nuri and Jonas, but the government had access to records and equipment these two would never have.
“We were not involved until Penny went missing.”
Which didn’t mean they weren’t on the government payroll now. “How long ago did the attack happen?”
“Four months ago. She was the fourteenth child taken.”
Fourteenth child. I closed my eyes again, fighting back the fury. I couldn’t get involved. I really couldn’t. But that didn’t stop my asking, “Why would wraiths kill the parents and snatch the children? That’s not the way they usually operate.”