Winter Halo

  “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.

  A
s 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.