by Ann Gimpel
“Password,” sounded in mind speech.
She gave it. The door rumbled open just far enough for her to squeeze through.
“Follow the light.” A voice with metallic undertones came from all around her.
What light? She gazed into the gloom, then dialed in her cat vision. A pale green LED blinked at floor level. She walked to it. Another lit a few feet ahead. As she followed the series of lights, she was pleased the underground was so cautious. If she hadn’t been a shifter, she wouldn’t even have heard the password request. Human vision couldn’t see the particular light frequency showing her the way. She wondered if they altered it for different shifter species.
“Stop.”
Kate glanced up. She’d been so focused on the floor, she’d nearly walked into a stainless steel door. It whooshed open. She stepped inside. It plummeted downward. An elevator. She rubbed her forehead to ease her headache. Something tight coiled deep inside her began to relax. Kate started to believe she might be safe, at least for tonight.
The door opened onto a well-lit corridor. A tall man with hazel eyes carrying an assault rifle barred her way. Red hair spilled down his shoulders. Faded Levis and a flannel shirt clung to an impressively muscled frame. Eyes narrowed, he radiated danger. “Shift,” he growled. “It is the last test. Then I will show you to your room.”
Kate dropped her bag. “Mind if I get out of these clothes? No point in ruining them.”
“Do what you have to. I am immune to seduction attempts, so don’t waste your energy.”
“I am mated. Don’t waste yours.” She tugged off her jacket and let it fall atop her bag. Her shirt followed. She kicked off her boots and slithered out of her jeans and panties. She heard a sharp intake of breath. Maybe rifle-boy wasn’t as immune as he liked to think he was.
Kate reached for her cat form and felt the transformation lengthen her torso and draw her legs under her. She padded around the man and snuffled him shamelessly.
He snorted. “Hussy.”
She purred. Despite everything, the sheer joy of her cat form filled her. Apparently the man sensed it. He bent to retrieve her things. “Follow me.”
Kate loped down the long corridor until it dead ended, then looked over one shoulder at him, whiskers twitching. “Which way?”
“Right. Second door.”
She stopped. He laid a palm on a pad next to the door. It opened onto a well-appointed bedroom, decorated in Holiday Inn modern. Comfy and functional. He dropped her things on the bed and pulled a robe off a hook in the closet. “I need you back in human form to program the lock. Also I need to show you where the cafeteria is.”
“May I have a few minutes with my cat? I promised her.”
“Sure. Be back for you in five.” He faded out the door and pulled it shut behind him.
By the time he knocked, she was ready, robe belted tightly around her. Her cat side didn’t have any further news about Devon other than his cat tried to access him without success. Maybe he was too scared to shift. Or in a place where he couldn’t. Or shackled. Cats hated iron. All shifter animal forms did. They’d resist the transformation if it meant the touch of it against their fur.
The man with red hair stuck out a hand. “I’m Ryan.”
She took his hand. “Kate.”
“Yes, I know. Max called us about you.”
She quirked a brow. “Even with that, you put me through my paces.”
He shrugged. “Can’t be too careful. Someone could have impersonated you through the vid feed to Max. It’s possible to manipulate images and voice patterns. Put your hand on the plate.”
He clicked buttons on a handheld console. “All set. Follow me. Are you hungry?”
“Not particularly.” She trailed after him. “But I probably should eat something.”
“Cafeteria’s here. Computer room is just across the hall.” He placed his palm on the same type of glass plate which sat next to her door. “Now you’ve been programmed into the system, you’ll have access to all the common areas. We’re set up for long term residency—”
“No.” She clutched his arm. “I have to free Devon.”
Ryan shook his head sharply. “We will move on our enemy using a coordinated approach. To do anything different jeopardizes us all.” He pried her fingers off his arm and propelled her into the dining room. A bank of glass fronted food dispensers lined one wall.
Kate gazed around the room. Half a dozen shifters hunched over plates and cups in a room large enough to accommodate fifty. Metal tables for four were scattered throughout the space. Large screens lined the upper part of the walls. A soccer game played on one, an older movie on another. She sank into a chair.
Ryan clucked over her like a mother hen, went to the glass wall, and returned with two cups of coffee. He dropped packets of powdered creamer and sugar in front of her along with a plastic spoon. “Want something to go with it?” His voice was gruff.
“Uh, soup maybe. And some bread.”
“What kind?”
“Surprise me.” She took a sip of coffee. Hot and fresh, it wasn’t bad. He placed a bowl in front of her and returned a few minutes later with a roll and butter. Kate sniffed the soup. It looked like some variant of chicken with vegetables and noodles floating in it. She spooned some into her mouth. Like the coffee, it tasted freshly made. Her stomach clenched and she realized she was hungry.
He unslung his rifle from his shoulder, laid it on one of the empty chairs, and sat across from her. “Good you’re eating. You’ll need fuel.”
“Why? What’s happening?”
“Max is worried. Seems the police department in Berkeley herded the entire Tracker task force into some sort of lockdown. They sounded the alarm, so other law enforcement agencies are following suit. Those men are too valuable to lose. We need them on our side.” A corner of his mouth twisted into a wry frown. “In many ways, this isn’t a bad turn of events. After being imprisoned, the cops won’t feel kindly disposed toward their bosses, and once we spring them—”
“—they won’t be nearly as conflicted about throwing their lot in with us.” She ginned up a wan smile. “Food helps. Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ve got to get moving. Back on patrol. Oh yes, your bike. Moved it inside after I left you in your room. Rear wheel was locked. Had to lift it. Ooph.”
“Thanks. I was worried someone would steal it.”
His chair made a squeaking sound when he pushed it back. “Get some sleep. Max will be here sometime tomorrow morning to talk with everyone. We’ll let you know when.”
“How many of us are here?”
“A few hundred.”
Her eyes widened. “No shit.”
Ryan laughed. “No shit. You’ll meet everyone, or most of us anyway, tomorrow.” He turned and walked from the room.
Kate finished her food. She got a refill on her coffee, found a gooey brownie in the food case, and took both back to her quarters. She juggled the brownie plate into the curve of one arm to free her right hand for the keypad. A gentle shove from her foot once she was inside, and the door snicked shut.
She set her food on a small desk and sank onto the bed. Devon. It felt wrong for her to be safe and comfortable when he was locked up. Pain shot through her so intense she curled into a ball. She thought about his arms around her and his lips on hers. Beautiful dark brown eyes brimming with love danced in her memory.
She grabbed a pillow and hugged it close to have something to hold. If the unspeakable happened and the bastards killed him, she’d stop at nothing to gain revenge.
“I’ll blow up the fucking world, if that’s what it takes,” she muttered through clenched teeth. Deep in her mind, her cat growled agreement.
Chapter 12
Devon leaned against the brick wall of the holding pen under the police station. He’d told Captain Aaron pretty much everything. The only things he’d glossed over were the depth of his feelings for Kate and the shifter underground. He hadn’t mentioned the
latter at all. The rest of the Tracker task force was locked in the underground room with him. Voices rose and fell; most of them buzzed with anger. Devon was good at fading out of sight. It was an old Native American art which urged people to look elsewhere.
He was worried sick about Kate. His boss knew she was a shifter. When Devon denied it after tracking her that day, all he’d done was cast suspicion on himself. Apparently the police had known about her for quite a while. They’d left her alone until she started harboring shifter fugitives. Devon didn’t ask, but the implication was more than one officer had availed himself of her services. He’d tried to warn her just before Captain Aaron ripped his wrist computer off his arm and pressed the two buttons which would wipe its drive. The odds of her looking at her screen at just that moment were slim.
His hands ached. He unclenched his fists. His gaze took in the crowd. He had to escape. Kate needed him. Maybe if he could get the other officers riled up enough, they could bludgeon their way out. Especially if they summoned their animal forms. He strode to the front of the room.
“There you are,” one man yelled. The crowd surged forward.
“Yeah, he’s why we got stuck in here,” someone else cried.
Devon held up both hands. “Give me five minutes. If you still want to pound me to a bloody pulp, I won’t fight you. But, first.” He heaved a chair at a blinking red LED which was probably a microphone. It shattered. “See any more of them?”
Breaking glass sounded from the back of the room. “Got it,” a voice with a strong Middle Eastern accent called out.
“Your five minutes just started, Heartshorn.” Someone elbowed him in the ribs, then jumped out of reach.
Devon detailed the effects of the serum on those with shifter blood. He recited the forty-two names from memory. Tanaka would have been the forty-third.
“My name ain’t on that list. How come I’m here?” a gaunt blond cop demanded.
Devon nodded. “That’s correct; there are seven of us without a drop of shifter blood. I have no idea why they chucked you in here with the rest of us.”
“How come you know all this stuff?” the blond officer asked.
“Because I shifted just like Tanaka and it scared the crap out of me. I started running down leads to find out more when the captain called me in. How about the rest of you? Anyone want to ’fess up? I only had twenty-five-percent shifter blood, but all it takes is ten to shove you over the edge once you’ve had that series of infusions.”
The crowd milled about, rearranging itself. The seven non-shifters gathered in a corner, heads bent together.
“Has anybody had any unusual experiences since they got the infusions?” Devon raised his hand to set an example. Around the room, hands edged up. Once the men saw they weren’t the only ones, more hands joined in. “I’d say that’s about three-quarters of us. Have all of you shifted, or is it just hypersensitive smell and hearing, and animal dreams?”
One of the non-shifters strode to Devon’s side. Medium height, with long brown hair and blue eyes, he stuck out a hand. “Robert Tabor.”
Devon shook it. “Nice to meet you.” He stiffened, unsure what the other man wanted.
“Before you go any further with this, we,—” he gestured to the small group in the back of the room, “—decided to help you. We’re mad as hell we got shanghaied. We also don’t think any of you should be punished. After all, it was their fucking drug that did this. We all had to agree to it in order to be on the task force. I’d say this is a brass problem. And a scientist problem. They caused it. They can fix it. What are they going to do with all of you? Take you out and shoot you? Dump you in prison? I say bullshit.”
A roar rose from the men. Fists pumped the air. Devon smiled grimly and waved his hands for silence. “I think we can get out of here. I asked before, how many of you have shifted?”
The tally was thirty, fairly evenly split between bears, wolves, coyotes, and mountain cats. Devon squared his shoulders and wished desperately he knew more. “This will be the blind leading the blind,” he began, “but I need you to practice shifting so you get more comfortable with how to go from your human form to your animal one. Shuck your clothes. No point in wrecking them. Let down your guard. Your animal will find you…”
An hour later, energy fairly buzzed through the room. “Damned shame about Tanaka,” another Asian cop murmured. “If he could have held on, he’d still be alive.”
“Yeah, his wife, too,” someone chimed in.
Guilt pierced Devon. He should have tried harder. Kate had wanted to, but he couldn’t get out of there fast enough once he heard Tanaka’s wife suggest seppuku. Not that they’d done the whole sword disembowelment thing, but still…
He faced the crowd. “If we can get out of here, we need a plan now you’ve got some ability to move from human to animal and back again.”
“You mentioned some sort of shifter underground,” someone said. “Maybe we could go there.”
“Yeah, if I knew where it was.” He thought about his conversation with Max. Maybe all wasn’t lost. “They may find us, but we’ll need a place to regroup. Ideas?”
A beefy middle-aged man with a bald head and warm brown eyes nodded. “Uh, got a cousin who’s part of the mob. They hate the law. They’d take us in, at least for a while.” He sketched out directions to a tenement in Oakland. “Looks like shit from the outside, but that’s just a front to discourage visitors.”
“They might let you in,” someone yelled, “but what about the rest of us?”
“Heh,” the bald man muttered. “Good point. I’d call, but they took my electronics. Guess you’ll have to wait for me at the corner. There’s an abandoned building just north of there.”
“No offense, Bolton, but what if you don’t make it? It ain’t like the brass are just gonna lean back and let the lot of us waltz out of here.”
No, they aren’t. Devon wondered how many of these men—he was starting to look at them as his men—would die. “If Bolton doesn’t show, you’ll meet there anyway. You’ll need clothes and shoes and black market cash. Anything you can pick up along the way will help. If you’ve worked undercover, you’ll have connections. Don’t be shy about using them. Don’t wait for me. The captain put out the call to pick up my girlfriend. I have to help her if I can.”
He inhaled sharply. “Listen up. Whoever said that about Bolton maybe not getting out alive made a good point. It’s dangerous to leave. No one has to. It’s up to you. If you want to make a break for it, the more of us there are, the better the odds, but no one will hold it against you if you opt out. That’s especially true for the ones without any shifter blood.”
“We’re all in,” Tabor growled. “We talked about it.”
“Yeah, and furthermore,” the gaunt blond cop stepped forward, “even if they let us out of this shithole, we were all going to quit anyway. Bastards. How can we work for arbitrary assholes like that?”
What an incredible group of men. Devon wished he had time to get to know them better. Maybe I still can. He examined the lock holding the metal door in place. “Does anyone know much about this holding tank?”
“Why?” The nearest officer walked over naked and barefoot, and bent to look closely at the lock. “Son of a bitch. I don’t think it’s electronic.”
“My take exactly. How about if one of you bears takes a crack at it.” He repeated himself in mind speech. A grizzly lumbered forward and drew his front leg back. “Wait.” Devon turned to the others. “Find your animal forms. You have a better chance in them because you can run faster and you’ll scare the shit out of whoever’s after you. You can shift back once you’re clear of the station.”
“We’ll be naked.”
“True enough.” Devon grinned. “This is Berkeley, home of the weird. No one will probably even notice.”
He nodded to the grizzly and claimed his cat form. A single paw stroke broke the lock. Men and animals surged forward.
“Halt or I’ll shoot.” T
wo officers jumped in front of them. Weapon fire reverberated in the hallway. The phut of lasers and the ping of live ammo made Devon’s skin crawl. His cat form liked bullets even less than he did. Shrieks, snarls, and hisses tore into Devon’s soul. He jumped a guard and batted him hard enough to knock him out. He wasn’t ready to kill—not yet. If Kate were injured or dead, though, all bets were off.
Something hot seared his side. He couldn’t stop to check his injury. A laser had grazed him, hopefully nothing worse. Devon raced through the door leading to the underground parking garage. Tabor had his hand on the electronic plate to keep it open. His chest bloomed red just as Devon leaped through the door.
It was foolhardy, but he wanted to go back. To shift and scoop Tabor up and see he got to a hospital, but his cat urged him on. He hit street level and ran fast enough to match the traffic. His side burned. He ignored it. Once he’d put a few blocks between him and the station, he ducked into an alley. A couple of winos screamed and bolted for the street. Bet they’ll think it’s the worst case of DTs they ever had.
He reached for his human form. Broken glass cut into his feet. He looked at his side. A long red welt oozed blood. More than oozed. It dripped in a steady stream. He culled through a trash bin, found a filthy robe and tied it around him. It stank of vomit. He walked gingerly out of the alley. Once he hit the city streets, he shambled into a jog. His house was only a mile or so away. The odds of the cops staking it out were thin what with all of them on the run. He needed clothing and money and first aid supplies to clean his wound. Once he had those, he’d buy another wrist computer and work on finding Kate.
Sirens blared. Devon ducked into another alley. Crap. Maybe this would be harder than he thought. He said a silent prayer most of them had made it and struck out again for home. It was nearly dark. He stuck to the shadows and used his Native American skills to blend into the darkness.