by Keri Arthur
Jonas placed a hand against my spine and guided me toward the ATV and the two men. “Trust me, she won’t be able to force the information out of anyone, no matter who she targets.”
It took me a moment to grasp the importance of the statement. I glanced up at him sharply. “That’s why you won’t tell me—just in case I get caught. You think I’ll talk.”
“With the right drugs, anyone can be made to talk. It’s not personal, Tiger.”
“Do you know the location?” I bit back.
“I did initially, but with my deepening involvement and the suspicions it has probably raised, Nuri has relocated them without telling me where.”
“And you can’t pluck it from her mind?”
“Her mind is a steel trap when it comes to hiding information she wants no one to know.” His voice was dry. “And anyone who comes to arrest her would seriously be taking their lives in their hands at this point.”
Because she wasn’t only telepathic, but a powerful witch.
My annoyance died as swiftly as it had risen. “There surely can’t be too many secure installations that Dream and the House of Lords don’t know about.”
“That is undoubtedly true.”
Suggesting it wasn’t a military installation but rather somewhere else. But I didn’t ask the questions that continued to crowd my mind—he was right. I’d been caught twice now, and while I’d been able to escape each time, there was no guarantee my luck would hold if I were captured again.
In fact, I couldn’t help but think that the odds were swinging further against me with every new encounter.
“Thanks for the timely rescue, Gus.” Jonas held out his hand as the two men approached. “And sorry if we interrupted the games at the retirement home.”
The older man laughed—a booming sound that tugged a smile to my lips—and grasped Jonas’s hand. “They’d have to shoot me before they’d ever get me into one of those damn places. You’re looking fucking younger every time I see you.”
“No, you just keep getting older.”
“That is indeed true.” He gestured to the dark-skinned man standing beside him. “Do you know Keonne? He’s Rai’s kid.”
“Nice to meet you,” Jonas said. “Your dad was a good man.”
“Thanks.” Keonne’s gaze came to mine. “And who is your lovely partner? Or are you intending to keep that information all to yourself?”
I smiled and stuck out my hand. “I’m Tiger.”
“An unusual name for an unusual woman, I’m thinking,” Keonne said.
“Enough with the flirting, young man.” Gus sent a very amused smile my way, but it faded as he added, “Sherry will take you to as far as the Greenbelt refuel station. It’s just a short walk from there to the rail station.”
Jonas nodded. We’d both been at the refuel center fairly recently—it’s where we’d procured the truck we’d used to rescue the two children who’d been taken to Winter Halo for more “processing.”
“What are you going to do with the hauler?” I asked.
“Blow it up.” Keonne raised the rucksack he was carrying. “With any luck, they’ll think it went down with all aboard.”
“At least until they get forensics here, anyway,” Gus added. He slapped Jonas on the shoulder. “You two go. We’ll take care of things here.”
“Just be careful,” Jonas said. “It’s more than likely got a tracker fitted, so if someone isn’t already on their way, they soon will be.”
“Which is why we’ll be setting the explosives and skedaddling.” Gus nodded at me and moved on. Keonne gave me a half bow and a cheeky smile. “If you’re ever up Pikes Peak way—”
“Flirt on your own time,” Jonas said. “Right now, you have work to do.”
Keonne laughed and walked after Gus. Jonas touched my spine and pressed me forward.
“I like those two. Have you known them long?”
“Not too much, I hope,” he said, amused. “And half my life.”
I squinted up at him. “Are they kin or mercenaries?”
“The latter, although they work within the Broken Mountains, serving as intermediaries between the various tribes and the main merc centers in both Central and New Port.”
“Meaning they’re brokers of sorts?”
A major part of Nuri’s business, I’d discovered, was as a broker for the government. She negotiated deals and contracts—with a slice off the top for herself, of course—for goods and services that Central either could not find or would not contemplate for legal or safety reasons.
“Yes,” Jonas said. “But for a smaller cut.”
A dark-haired woman with wine-colored eyes glanced around as we entered the ATV. “Nice to see you again, Jonas. Now belt up so we can get this beast on the road.”
“Sherry, this is Tiger,” Jonas said, ushering me to a seat behind the other woman.
I was inordinately pleased that he sat beside me rather than move on to the co-driver seat.
“Nice to meet you, love.” Sherry punched various buttons. As the door closed and the ATV’s engines grumbled back to life, she added, “We’ve been told to get you onto the second-last string into Central, so we’re pushing for time. There are some protein bars in the rear storage if you’re hungry.”
I was and, over the course of the sometimes-rough journey, demolished all but three of them. Those I left for Jonas.
We reached the refuel station just as the first threads of dusk were beginning to stain the sky. I peered over Sherry’s shoulder and studied the sprawling complex. As the last refuel stop before Central City, this place had to cater not only to the many trucks and haulers heading in and out of Central, but also all those who were using the rail system. So there was not only a multitude of docking stations offering the different fuel options, but also a large eatery and what looked to be accommodation—something I hadn’t noticed last time I was here. Nor had I noticed the brothel at the far end. I guess it wasn’t all that surprising given the sex trade had been a respectable business for decades now and that for many, sex equaled relaxation. Of course, anyone setting up such a business had to follow strict guidelines regarding health and safety, and also had to pay their taxes in a timely manner.
It was odd, however, to find one outside the well-protected confines of a main city. But maybe the risk was factored into both the price charged and the money earned by those who worked there.
Sherry skirted the closest parking area and squeezed the ATV between two larger haulers. “Right,” she said, as she shut everything down and opened the door. “I’m off for coffee. You two wait five minutes and then head over to the rail station. There’s a camera behind the truck on our right, so keep your back to that and you’ll be fine. Oh, and there’s a change of clothing for you both in the side locker. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Jonas said, but he was talking to her retreating back. He twisted around in the seat and flipped open the storage container. “There’re a couple of coveralls, a kaftan, and a tunic in here—which one do you want?”
“Unless you’ve taken a sudden fancy for women’s clothing, I’ll take the tunic.”
He handed it over then dragged out one of the coveralls for himself. The tunic was a pale pink rather than the silver gray of my other one, but it was similar in style—full-length and split to the thigh along one side to allow easier movement. The soft wool of the material enhanced rather than hid curves, and I knew from the many times I’d worn the same type of garment in the various camps I'd been assigned to during the war that they were not only extremely comfortable, but also sexy.
I once again made Jonas turn around and did a quick changeover. I also altered my features and changed my hair color to red so that anyone who’d seen me at the warehouse wouldn’t recognize me. That I did it so quickly without experiencing undue dizziness or weakness was surprising. Or maybe it really wasn’t, given these changes—or rather, improvements in my own natural abilities—were more than likely the result of being caught in
that damn rift. There was no other logical reason for it to be happening. Not when I’d experienced neither physical nor psychic changes or enhancements in all my years of existence before then.
“Right,” I said, “You may turn around now.”
“I don’t know why someone who was designed to seduce should be so damn modest when there’s no one else here but us.” His gaze skimmed me. “You need to wear those tunics more often. They do suit you.”
My cheeks dimpled. “Thanks.”
He glanced at the timer in the ATV’s control panel. “The train will be here in ten minutes, so we’d best move. You go first. I’ll follow a few seconds later.”
I nodded and headed out. After a brief pause in the shadows of the large hauler, I headed for the rear of the ATV and turned left. The long rail platform was already filling with people, all of them waiting for the glowing, caterpillar-like pods that would transport them back to Central after a long day of working in the various production zones that provided the city with the necessities of life.
I walked to the station without incident, and made my way to the midpoint section of the platform, where the crowd was the thickest. Jonas joined me a few minutes later and, as the string of pods silently pulled into the station, slipped his fingers through mine. I didn’t know if it was to ensure we didn’t get separated, and I didn’t really care. I just enjoyed the warmth of his touch.
We made our way to the rear of the pod and sat down. A bell chimed and the doors closed. Within seconds we were leaving, the countryside blurring as the train picked up speed. Neither of us said anything, but the ghosts had fun, looking over everyone’s shoulders and reporting back on what they were reading or eating. It was a somewhat amusing way to spend the hour it took us to get back to Central.
As the pod pulled into Central’s station, I glanced at Jonas. “Are you heading back home?”
“Home” being the bunker we were currently sharing, not Chaos, where he lived with Nuri and two of her other mercs, Branna and Ela.
He nodded. “I’m supposed to be monitoring all the equipment there, remember.”
The bunker had—up until very recently—been the site of a museum dedicated to not only preserving the last few bits of the day-to-day operational center of the Human Development Project, but also to emphasizing the evilness of gene manipulation and creating humanoids.
But Dream and her cohorts had blown much of it up in an effort to stop me accessing the place. In the process, the tunnels that were my main way in and out had collapsed, and one of them had taken half the hill with it. Central’s engineers had consequently advised the Council to run a series of stability tests on the area before deciding on the viability of the museum. They were under the impression the southern exit had been part of an old sewer network that once ran under the area, and were worried that further collapses could endanger the whole hillside.
Nuri had been handed the task of finding someone willing to monitor the equipment twenty-four seven, and Jonas had stepped into the position not only to provide a quick and easy means of communication between me and Nuri, but to keep me out of Chaos and away from Branna.
If he comes after you again, Bear said, I will hit first and ask questions later.
A smile twitched my lips. I didn’t normally approve of attacking someone without provocation, but in Branna’s case, I was more than happy to make an exception.
I pushed up from the seat as the doors opened and people began to file out of the pod. “I’ll return in the morning then.”
Jonas nodded. “Just be careful, and remember what I said. Fontaine is first and foremost a government man, so don’t give him any reason to suspect you.”
“He’s also a man in lust, and that often leads to a certain amount of blindness.”
Jonas snorted softly. “That is a blanket statement and does not apply to us all.”
“My experience suggests otherwise.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He simply pressed a hand against my spine and guided me out onto the platform. “I’ll leave you here and head into the park. I don't want to be seen heading directly into the bunker, just in case it’s still being watched.”
I nodded. “Cat and Bear can keep you company.”
“Oh good,” he said, voice dry.
Is he being sarcastic? Cat asked. Because it sounds like he is.
Maybe just a little, I said. Take care of him for me, and let me know if there’s a problem.
Will do, they said together.
I glanced at Jonas. “Don’t let the vampires bite, Ranger.”
He grinned. “Oh, they’re quite welcome to try. I have a few new guns that need testing out.”
I hesitated, tempted to step closer and kiss him goodbye. But that could lead to a whole lot more, and it was neither the time nor the place for such explorations. So I simply spun around and walked away—aware the whole time that he watched me.
Central City had two main defenses—the vast metal curtain wall that ran in a D-shape around the entire city, and the UV light towers that topped both the wall and every roof of every building within the city, providing its inhabitants with endless daylight. There were also only two ways to get in and out of the city—via the vast gatehouse here, and a matching gateway on the opposite side.
I was soon striding across the metal drawbridge that would be drawn up once the final string of pods arrived at the station. By the time full night arrived, the city would be locked down and no one would be able to enter or exit before the sun had fully risen again. The city might be bathed in eternal brightness, but if the lights failed, then the wall and the drawbridges were the city’s only protection against the might of the vampires. Which, in reality, didn’t mean much. Not when vampires could shadow and simply rise above the wall. It did, however, stop the Others, which meant that if the lights ever did go out, then at least there was one less horror to worry about.
The ends of the silver curtain that Central used in place of the more conventional portcullis gleamed brightly in the deepening gold of dusk, but the sensors fitted into the thick metal walls didn't react to my presence, though they would have had I been full vampire. It had taken ten years to completely rebuild Central after the war, and by then not only had all the HDP bases been destroyed, so had the entirety of the déchet population—aside from myself and Sal, as far as I was aware. As a result, they’d never built the possibility of DNA-mixed beings such as the déchet into their security systems, and I was extremely grateful for that. Feeding myself would have been far more problematic had I not been able to make regular raids into Central.
Central's internal layout consisted of a dozen roads; the outer roads were D-shaped like the wall itself, but the inner ones were full circles. Victory Street—the only street that ran from gatehouse to gatehouse through the heart of the city—intersected each of these roads, 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.
I followed Victory Street—which was a spacious avenue that, despite the tall buildings lining either side of it, was still wide enough to allow real sunshine to bathe the street rather than just the UV light—until I came to one of the many pedestrian cross streets that ran between each of the main streets. They were little more than three-meter-wide canyons between the high-rise buildings, but like everything else in this city, they were bathed in eternal light. This one was empty, so I quickly drew a shield around my body and did a subtle shape shift, changing back to my natural silvery-white hair color but without the black stripes, and increasing both my height and breast size. The latter stretched the soft wool of the dress to its limits and probably revealed more than was decorous given I wasn’t wearing either a bra or the clear under-breast shape-tapes—which were not only more co
mfortable than old-fashioned bras, but far more supportive without in any way restricting movement. But I doubted there’d be many men who’d actually complain about what might be on show. I knew Charles certainly wouldn’t.
With the alterations made, I continued toward the apartment on Third Street that Nuri had procured for me as part of my Catherine—or Cat—persona. While apartments closer to the park were more prized—and therefore more expensive—even an apartment as close to the wall and drawbridge as this one was worth more than most of those living on Twelfth could ever hope to earn in their lifetime.
The building came into view. It was twenty floors high, but was sandwiched between two buildings and had little width. I ran my RFID chip across the scanner; after a moment, a green light flashed and the door opened.
The foyer beyond, like the building itself, was tiny but it was plushly decorated in gold and plum tones. I walked across to the elevator and, as I entered, a metallic voice asked for my floor number.
“Seven, please.”
The doors closed and the elevator zoomed me up to my destination. I stepped out into the carpeted corridor. There were only two apartments here—one at the front of the building, and one at the back—which I guess wasn’t surprising given the width of the place. The one I was using lay at the front.
I repeated the entry process and, when the door slid open, walked inside. The room beyond was a combination living and kitchen area. Despite the narrowness of the building, the entire place was bright and spacious—a feeling undoubtedly helped by the mezzanine level stopping well short of the double-height windows, which enabled light to flood the room. The entire space was white—a color that seemed to be favored amongst Central’s elite—but there were some splashes of bright color in both the cushions that lined the L-shaped sofa and the sunset pictures that lined the wall.
I walked across to the circular chrome-and-glass stair tucked into the corner on my right and went up. There were two small bedrooms on the mezzanine level, as well as a small bathroom that somehow managed to fit a shower, basin, toilet, and a hipbath, the latter definitely a luxury only the elite could afford. I quickly stripped off and stepped under the spray, letting the water roll over my body to ease the lingering spots of soreness. The needle-fine jets were so hot the room would have steamed up if not for the efficient exhaust system that vented it up to the rooftop.