I made my way back down a short hallway and out to his underground throne room. He noticed me almost immediately.
“Drina,” he called to me. “There you are. It’s so good to see you again. Come, sit down and speak with me, now that you are able.”
I took a deep breath, my stomach tightening as I prepared to tell Shaitan why I was there. I paused, and he stopped beside me, gazing down with a quizzical expression.
As ever, his dark eyes seem to draw me in as if they held shadows that no amount of light could ever eliminate.
“What do you need?” he asked.
For a demon, that was a polite way of opening negotiations. But when it came down to it, I froze.
He’s staring down at me, waiting for a response.
To get what I really and truly wanted, I would have to tell him everything.
I found it humiliating. My father would be horrified
But he wasn’t here. So I stepped up to do what needed to be done. “I’m about to get caught by a bounty hunter,” I said, speaking clearly. “And if that happens, the best thing that will happen is going to prison.” I stared into those smoky, deep, dark eyes intently. “I do not want to get caught. I need help with that.”
“Then what?”
Then what? I couldn’t figure out what he meant. My heart raced as I tried to put together the pieces enough to form a coherent answer. But I couldn’t.
Luckily, he came to my rescue. Staring deeply into my eyes, he asked, “What do you really want, Drina?”
His question, combined with the force of personality behind those eyes, drew me in so completely that my head spun in that smoky darkness tinged in red.
Shaitan reached out and took my hand in his. His fingers were hot, almost burning.
“I want to start over,” I blurted. “I want to be someone else.”
“Yes? And what would you do with such a chance?”
His question, his eyes, compelled me to answer.
“I would walk away and never look back. I’d do it right this time.” If only I could figure out how.
I would never again be a thief.
Or a killer.
With a slight smile, Shaitan released me from the hold of his hands and eyes.
“That would be a shame,” he said, his voice dropping low, brushing against my skin like a caress. “I’d hate to think of never seeing you again.”
Dropping into his throne, throwing one long, lean leg over the arm, and leaning back languidly, he said, “Besides, what would I do for information if all the Movos were to disappear from my world?”
A woman—another demon, I thought, though I wasn’t sure—brought glasses of champagne, and he waved me to the chair next to him.
“But I suppose your capture would have the same effect,” he continued.
“Yes,” I murmured, affecting a mournful tone. “Refusing my request for help almost certainly would mean prison for me. And I probably would not be able to do any jobs for you then.”
Shaitan laughed aloud. “Anyway, all I ever give are options. Your choices must, in the end, be your own.”
“So what are my options?”
“The most straightforward one, of course, would be to turn yourself in.”
I simply raised one eyebrow at the demon.
“Mm. I thought not.” A grin twitched the corner of his mouth. “You could continue to run from the bounty hunter, as you have been doing.”
“We both know that’s unlikely to turn out well. He’s almost caught me twice already, after all.”
Shaitan waved dismissively as he took a drink. “And yet you escaped.”
“What’s my third option?”
He stared at me over the rim of his glass, chewing on his full bottom lip with even, white teeth. “I believe we should finish this conversation in private,” he finally said.
I blinked, startled. I’d never know Shaitan to conduct business in private. Nonetheless, I nodded.
Standing, he snapped his fingers. Everyone in the room stopped speaking instantly and began shuffling out of the subterranean throne room.
I didn’t want to know what he’d done to ensure that kind of immediate response from his people.
Setting down his empty champagne glass on a table at the back of the room, he moved to a drink cart. “Would you care for something else?”
I shook my head, ready to move on with the conversation. “You said I have a third option?”
His gaze turned thoughtful. “Just one.”
And that’s when he told me about his plan to hide me in the Complex.
I tried to imagine what it would be like to be locked away in a dome for two years, but I didn’t have enough information to form any kind of coherent picture.
I need to know more.
I was about to tell Shaitan I didn’t want to go—that I was turning down his offer.
I stared into the demon’s eyes, my lips parting slightly as I drew in a breath to say as much. Before I could get the words out though, Shaitan dragged his gaze down to my mouth, and the heat in his eyes sparked an answering fire deep inside me.
“You realize that all demon deals are sealed with a kiss, right?” His husky voice seemed to shiver against my skin.
My mouth dried, and my voice all but disappeared.
“What do you get in return?” I asked, pushing the question past my scratchy throat.
“One favor.” His voice was as ragged as mine. “When you leave the Complex, tell me everything you’ve learned inside.”
I blinked, trying to think of any way that could backfire.
Finally, I nodded. “Yes.”
With a muttered curse, Shaitan reached up behind me and tangled his fingers in my hair. Then he bent to claim my mouth with his own, searing away every thought until there was nothing left in me but a desperate need to match the passion of his kiss.
I’m distracted, thinking about that kiss as I make my way down into the tunnels below the Complex.
Mostly, I’ve avoided coming down here during my explorations. It’s not that I’m worried for my safety or anything—I’ve spent my entire life among people like the ones who congregate in places like the Complex sub-levels.
In fact, most Metas would do fine down here, despite the potentially confusing maze of pipes and tunnels. I’ve heard the Human mechanics sometimes have to carry maps, and more than a few of them have had to be pulled out by rescue teams.
It doesn’t make sense to me—even in my new feline form, I could follow my own trail and backtrack up to the first floor. The few times I worked on crews with Humans, I had to learn to take their terrible sense of direction, compounded by an even worse sense of smell, as just two of those Human things that I’ll never really get.
I’m considering how many Humans might end up lost down here permanently—when I start hearing voices echoing through the tunnels.
I move quietly in the direction I hear the voices coming from to get a look around a corner.
Peering out, I see three men, two fairly young—no more than mid-thirties in Human years—and one who looks somewhat older. At least, he would, if not for the strange aura around him. I shake my head, not sure what I’m looking at. With the
“You sure you saw one of those life-sucking vamps, Manny?” One of the younger men is practically spitting in his rage.
“A shtrigu,” Manny, the other young one, confirms.
“Too bad we can’t get one of those. Take away his power, show him a thing or two.” The third guy
Take away his power?
What the hell are they talking about?
I pull back around the corner where they can’t see me and press my back against the wall. I didn’t scent any of the shtrigu vampires on the way down, but that doesn’t mean anything—they could be talking about that guy in Uni Versal Noodles. And this place is a warren of pipes and corridors. No telling who’s hiding out down here.
Whatever they’re planning, I want no part of it.
&
nbsp; I’m certain the corridor they’re in leads down—it’s the easiest route I’ve seen, but I’m not willing to risk getting caught by these
I take one silent step backward, but the scrape of a shoe on the floor of the corridor behind me lets me know that someone else is coming.
I’m trapped.
I inhale quietly, preparing to shift into my leopard shape to make a run for it, if necessary.
Then from around the corner, I hear the third one speak. His voice is deep and certain. “We can’t let the monsters rule our lives. Humans first. Humans always.”
I freeze in sheer terror.
Chapter 5
Humans First.
The terrorist group that not only thinks we should never coexist, but is willing to set off bombs and kill innocents to make sure Humans and Metas can’t share a system, much less a planet.
I’ve heard of the group, but this is the first time I’ve seen them. There have been rumors that they’ve infiltrated the Complex.
I need to run.
I need to shift.
It should be easy. Since Shaitan activated this curse, I’ve been walking around more than a quarter shifted.
Some shifters use that kind of partial shifting as a fashion statement. For me, it’s a lack of control. I wear my leopard spots on my Human skin not because I think it looks pretty—though I certainly get enough compliments on it—but because I haven’t developed enough control over the shape to take a completely humanoid form.
I guess I’m lucky I can even control when and how I pop claws.
In my absolute terror of getting caught by the Humans First group, though, I can’t seem to control anything.
Luckily, though, as the person in the corridor behind me steps around the corner and into sight, I’m finally managing to change, melting into the animal self that I let Shaitan give me.
The new man who has entered my hallway lets out a shout. I guess he is with these other guys.
Crap. I’ve got to get away.
I take a running leap at the new man, figuring there is a better chance of getting away around one as opposed to three members of the most notorious terrorist group in the system.
I’m wrong.
He pulls a weapon and stuns me with it. Mid-leap, all my muscles seize up and I tumble to the ground, unable to catch myself and land on my feet. I land half on my side, my front half rolled over so I’m staring almost straight up.
All of this takes only a few seconds. The other three men are just now dashing into this hallway, their voices rising in a confused babble to my stunned shifter ears.
The men in the group are in a rage—I can smell it boiling off them in a cloud of testosterone and violent urges.
And now they’ve seen me.
Captured me.
One Meta, all alone.
Far away from help.
As if in answer to my thought, I hear one voice say, “We need to get out of here. What if it called the Intra?”
If they only knew that I’m as unwilling to call in Intra as they are.
Cops are bad for all of us, dude.
The older man’s voice cuts through the others’ chatter. He’s clearly in charge. “If it heard us, it will need to be put down.”
“It needs to be killed whether it’s heard us or not,” one of the younger men objects.
“Not if it’s young enough to put into our experiments,” another voice interjects.
Experiments?
This is getting worse and worse.
I hate being helpless.
I don’t know exactly what kind of weapon they’ve used on me, but if it’s anything like the Intras’, it was designed to take down Metas. It might kill a Human, it might not. But I’m totally numb right now, and when the shock wears off, I’m going to hurt like hell.
I can’t believe I was caught by accident. I should have turned around and gone the other way as soon as I heard voices. But I was too curious to leave it alone.
Nema would be ashamed.
“We need to make a call now,” the new arrival—the guy who shot me—says. “Either we kill it now and dump it, or we take it up to the holding cells and let the scientists have it.”
The other men murmur their agreement and the older man stares down at me, his expression thoughtful.
I fight to overcome the paralysis, but the best I can manage is a single twitch of one paw. When one of the men nudges my body with his boot, my head flops over so I can’t even see any of their faces anymore.
I only hear what happens next.
I can see nothing but the floor in front of my eyes and the feet of one of the men.
There’s a thump and a grunt, and those feet are turning, turning—and then they tilt at a funny angle and are gone from my sight.
“What the—” the older man’s voice cuts off mid-sentence.
Whatever’s happening, it’s not going terribly well for the Humans First guys.
I kind of wish I could watch.
Also, I hope they’re getting their asses handed to them by a Meta.
At just about that moment, my head spins, my eyesight blurs a little, and I realize that against my will, I’m shifting back into my mostly-humanoid shape.
Shifters usually aren’t terribly self-conscious about nudity—we’re forever leaving our clothes behind when we take off in our fur or feathers, so it’s silly to worry about showing a little skin—but it still adds an extra layer of vulnerability to lying on the floor, unable to move.
I hear a few more scrapes, and then silence.
I’m not sure I’m any less frightened than I was before something silenced my attackers.
But I know I’m even more terrified than ever when a pair of shoes stops in front of my face and the bounty hunter squats down, tilting his head to better look me in the eye.
“Hello, there,” he says. “You okay?”
It’s the bounty hunter, and he’s stopped here specifically to save me, I think. I’m sure he knows nothing about the shifting curse yet—that would help explain why it took him six months to work his way around to my section of the Complex.
He doesn’t realize he’s saving the same woman he’s hunting.
That might be the very definition of irony.
I don’t think I’d be laughing even if could, right now.
“Here. Let me help you.” The enormous man disappears from view for a second and returns with my clothes in hand.
He helps me sit up and leans me again the wall. I’m surprised by how gentle he is with me.
I’m beginning to get some feeling back in my fingers and toes, and I can almost hold my head up straight.
“That gun is carrying is a jury-rigged version,” the bounty hunter says. “It won’t last as long as an official stun. You should be up and moving soon enough.”
He turns his back on me, and I half expect him to leave. Instead, he begins pawing through the pockets of the men he’s just taken down. From where I am I can’t tell if he killed them or merely incapacitated them. Worse, I can’t tell whether I should feel thankful or like I’ve jumped out of one terrible situation and into a truly horrific one.
“Nothing,” he mutters, standing up and looking around at the bodies on the floor in disgust. “Any idea who these jokers are?”
“Humans First,” I manage to croak. Apparently he was right—the stun effect is wearing off.
“Figures.” He nods, his eyes narrowed. “Hateful bunch,” he mutters, a surprising sentiment coming from someone who chases down Metas for a living. I don’t say as much, though. Instead, I just grunt my agreement.
Within a few minutes, I’m able to move well enough to pull my shirt on over my head. The bounty hunter is polite and doesn’t look. I keep my pants in my lap, uncertain of my ability to stand up. I’m still too shaky for that.
“I’m Jaecar,” he offers.
If he doesn’t know about my new shape, he’s unlikely to know about my new name. Still, I don’t want to give him any eas
y ammunition.
“Lexi,” I offer. I don’t gamble by giving him my last name. Lexi is a common enough first name that I might be able to skate by even if he has heard of my new pseudonym.
“Well, Lexi, we should try to get out of here before these guys come around.”
So they are just incapacitated, not dead.
I find that oddly comforting.
Jaecar helps me up, holding me around my waist and keeping me steady as I tug on my pants and slip on my shoes. My back claws did a number on the pants when I leapt, and there are tears and holes throughout them. But I figure they’ll do the job well enough to get me home, anyway.
We begin staggering back up toward the surface. Jaecar doesn’t say much, and I’m too busy trying to figure out how to get out of this latest conundrum.
Luckily for me, the hunter is not much of a conversationalist when it doesn’t have to do directly with his job.
More than anything, I want to get away from him and find my way back down to Shaitan.
But it looks like in order to get away from the bounty hunter, I’m first going to have to escape the company of the bounty hunter.
This is turning into one seriously fucked up day.
So of course that’s when Shaitan finds me.
Chapter 6
I’ve never been so glad to see a demon before.
Actually, I hear him first. The sound of feet shuffling along a cross-corridor that we’re about to reach comes to me first. If I’d been in my leopard form, my ears would have twitched.
Cats might not hear as well as wolves—it’s one of the oddities I’ve been getting used to since I got to the Complex. But my hearing is still quite a bit better than any Human’s.
Shaitan knows that, and uses it to his advantage.
“Drina.”
My name whispers up the hallway toward me.
I twitch, but the bounty hunter I’m walking beside doesn’t notice.
“Drina. It’s Shaitan.”
I don’t know if he can see me, but I twitch one finger until it points straight out to one side.
“Don’t fight back. These are my people.”
My shoulders tense, and finally Jaecar notices something. “What is it?”
Demon's Bounty (The Complex Book 0) Page 3