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  My pace slowed as I neared the entrance. “Are you sure Nuri’s in Run Turk Alley on the fifth level?”

  “Yes.”

  Her gaze was on the ranger rather than me, and with good reason. Given the way I was carrying him, I couldn’t actually see his features, but I could feel the heat in his skin, the sweat that stained his clothes, and the tremors that raked his body. Whatever he’d been given, it continued to take a toll on his body, despite his natural healing abilities.

  I resolutely strode into Chaos. The shadows closed in immediately, and the fear of being caged—of having no room and no air—swiftly followed. It was a fear that had been born in the stinking, bug-filled cesspit I’d once been thrown into after the shifter general I’d been assigned to had begun to suspect I might be a traitor. That pit would have been my tomb had it not been for Sal—a déchet assassin, and one of the few friends I’d had apart from the children. How he’d found me I have no idea, but he’d undoubtedly saved my life.

  Of course, it was a debt I’d never get the chance to repay. As far as I knew, no other déchet had survived the shifters’ determined destruction of everyone and everything related to the HDP.

  I swallowed heavily and forced my feet on, my gaze on the grimy, wet, and littered ground rather than the too-close graffiti-strewn metal walls and doors that lined the roadway. No cars or motorbikes ever came into Chaos—there simply wasn’t the room, especially when the traders all opened their doors and their operations spilled into the street itself.

  Our footsteps echoed in the thick silence, and above us, life stirred. I glanced up, even though there was nothing to see except the crusted metal ceiling that seemed far too close. But I knew what was up there—layer upon layer of crammed apartments that weren’t much larger than the shipping containers they all rested on. I also knew that those who controlled this place would now be aware of our presence. Who those people actually were, I had no idea. Nor did I wish to ever find out.

  We pressed on, splashing through water that was thick and oily while trying to avoid the muck that dripped steadily from the ceiling. Rubbish lay in gathering drifts, emitting a stench that was a putrid mix of rotting fish and human waste. While Central grudgingly provided some necessities—basic water and sanitation facilities (though not garbage pickup, as evidenced by the waste), some medical facilities, and irregular postal services—black-market trading was common, and what wasn’t stolen was either hunted for in the park near my bunker, or fished from the rerouted Barra, a good kilometer away from here.

  We found an unlocked staircase and moved up. The entrance to the next level was sealed, so I drew one of the guns and shot the lock off. The sharp sound echoed. If the powers that be actually hadn’t been aware of our presence, then they certainly were now. But it wasn’t like I had much other choice. Jonas seemed to be getting heavier, and I wasn’t entirely sure how much longer I could keep carrying him.

  We moved swiftly through the next two levels, but by the time we’d reach the fourth, we were no longer alone. No one approached us, but they watched, and they followed, and the air was thick with hostility.

  “We’re almost there.” I was trying to reassure Penny as much as myself, but if her expression was anything to go by, she was once again oblivious to the danger surrounding us.

  We reached the fifth level. I paused at the top of the stairs, looking left and right, and—after mentally flipping a coin—headed left. If this Nuri was a healer of some distinction—and I suspected she might be—then she was likely housed toward the middle of the complex, which would provide more protection from vampire attacks than the outer reaches.

  I scanned the haphazard signage as we passed each offshoot lane or walkway, and eventually found the one we wanted. It was little more than a three-feet-wide path that wove through a mess of houses—each one little more than a ten-feet-wide collection of scavenged wood, steel, and plastic—and whose owners lounged against the outer wall, smoking and drinking. Every one of them was armed. Run Turk Alley was, as I’d heard, mercenary central.

  I shifted my grip on Jonas, freeing a hand without making it too obvious I was ready to reach for a weapon. We headed down, weaving our way through a sea of rubbish, stares, and outstretched feet. No one stopped us or said anything, but they didn’t move out of our way, either. I stumbled more than once, wrenching my already screaming back and leg muscles as I struggled to remain upright.

  Eventually, I saw a small sign that simply read NURI’S. While it was just another wood-and-metal building coated with years of grime, graffiti, and advertising posters, it was three times the size of the others in this street. It also had several windows, all of which were barred—a necessity in this area, no doubt.

  Penny squeezed past me and ran ahead to open the door. I followed her into the brightly lit confines and was almost immediately hit by the stink of alcohol. But a more surprising—and dangerous—scent closely followed. There were shifters in this place.

  While it was highly unlikely any of them realized what I was, I couldn’t help the instinctive need to retreat. I could fight—all déchet could, even those of us who had been trained in the art of seduction. But the war had been a long time ago, and fighting had never been my main skill set. There were far too many shifters in this bar for me to have a chance of survival should they decide to attack.

  I stopped several feet in from the door and transferred Jonas to a sturdy-looking table. Then I scanned the room. The woman standing behind the bar was human, and the shifters were all seated at one of the tables crowding the far end of the small room. There were a half dozen of them—four men and two women—and all looked to be in fighting condition. It was an impression amplified by the many weapons strapped to their bodies.

  Relax, I told myself silently. Breathe.

  But my heart still raced, and my fingers itched with the need to reach for a weapon. I resisted the urge and remained where I was, emoting a calm I certainly didn’t feel. Cat and Bear crowded close, their energy stinging my skin, making it twitch.

  “Jesus H. Christ!” the woman at the bar said, her abrupt comment cutting through the thick silence and making me jump. “What the hell happened to Jonas?”

  She strode out of the gloom, a tea towel that had seen better days slung over one shoulder. She was short and fat, with rosy cheeks and wiry, steel gray hair that ballooned around her head like a sea of slender, twisting snakes.

  She didn’t look the least bit menacing and, for that reason alone, I very much suspected she was the most dangerous person in the room. In fact, the force of her energy electrified the air, so that she appeared surrounded by a halo of flickering, fiery blue.

  “According to Penny, Jonas has been poisoned,” I said, when it became obvious Penny wasn’t going to answer. “I was advised to bring him here.”

  Her gaze pinned mine and, in the brown depths, I saw sharp intellect and great power. This was Nuri; of that I had no doubt.

  “And who the hell are you?” While her voice was still brusque, her touch was gentle as she gripped Jonas’s cheeks and studied him intently.

  “No one important.”

  “Well, no one important,” she said, her gaze still on the ranger though I had no doubt she was very aware of my every move. “Would you like to tell us how you came to be in a position to help these two? I suspect there’s a bit of a story behind it.”

  I shrugged, my gaze flicking to the watching shifters. Their attention hadn’t wavered, and their hands were resting a little closer to their guns. My tension ramped another notch, as did the caress of power from my two ghostly guards.

  We needed to get out of here before this situation became nasty. These people were too alert, too ready for action. It was almost as if they’d been expecting us.

  “She rescued us,” Penny piped up. “From the vampires.”

  The woman looked up at that. Her gaze swept down my length, then came up to rest on my face again. It felt like she was clawing away the layers of skin and seei
ng exactly what I was.

  “And just how many vampires are we talking about?”

  “Not many,” I said, at the same time that Penny said, “At least a score.”

  “It might have seemed that way, but honestly, it wasn’t.” I forced a smile. “And now that these two are safe, I really have to go.”

  The ghosts flung themselves around me, urging me to hurry, needing, wanting to leave as much as I did. I took a step back. No one moved to stop me. The old woman continued to study me, seeing too much, suspecting too much.

  “At least tell us your name,” she said, “so that we may say a prayer for you over dinner tonight.”

  “Her name is Tiger,” Penny said, and, with all the innocence of a child, added, “She’s a déchet.”

  My gaze snapped to her. How the hell . . . ? But the rest of the thought was snatched away as energy exploded around me. It came from the woman, from the shifters, and, more dangerously, from my little guards.

  “No,” I said, and flung out a hand, snatching back the power Cat had already begun to discharge. Then something pricked the side of my neck and the world went dark.

  Chapter 3

  Waking was painful.

  My head felt like it was full of roaches trying to claw their way out, and my body was on fire. Sweat poured from my forehead and down my spine, and the T-shirt I wore under my jacket was soaked.

  But none of that mattered. Understanding the situation did. And that meant concentrating every bit of awareness on my surroundings and what was going on.

  I guess the most obvious fact was that I still lived, which surprised me. Given everyone’s reactions, I’d expected the opposite.

  I lay sprawled against cold metal, and the air was not only heated and still, but also ripe with the scent of urine and rubbish. There was no one close—no one I could smell or hear, anyway. I was fully clothed, and—despite the ache in my head and the fire in my body—unhurt. But the weight of my weapons was gone; no surprise there, especially if they’d believed Penny—and the question of how she’d known my true name let alone even suspect I was déchet was a point I could worry about once I’d escaped. If I escaped.

  I opened my eyes, only to be greeted by a light so harsh I blinked back tears. Vampire lights. They were using vampire lights on me. I would have laughed had I not felt so shitty.

  While I couldn’t actually become light—as I could become shadow—I could certainly make it appear as if I had. It was a skill that had allowed me to get out of situations like this in the past. If a cell appeared empty—if it appeared the prisoner had already escaped—there was little reason to lock said cell back up.

  Of course, it wasn’t a skill that all déchet had, just those of us designed to be lures and assassins—and we’d been few enough in number.

  Little fingers patted my face. It was a reassuring touch, but both Cat and Bear were confused and angry, and their emotions stung the air. I opened my hand and briefly wrapped my fingers around the energy of theirs.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said softly. “We’ll be okay.”

  They hummed, happy that I was awake but not really reassured. I pushed upright, but far too fast. Pain hit like a sledgehammer, so sharp it felt like my head was about to split apart. I hissed and hugged my knees to my chest, breathing slowly and deeply until the sensation faded. Once it did, I studied my surroundings. The room was little more than a ten-feet-square metal box—which was huge in a place where space was at a premium—and had obviously been, at one point in its life, a storage container, as there were no windows and the walls were pockmarked with welded-over drill holes that must have once held shelving in place. Silver mesh covered all four walls and the ceiling. This was a room designed to hold shifters and vampires, meaning Nuri’s place was more than just a bar. And though this prison should have set off my fear of enclosed spaces, it didn’t. Maybe it was the light. Or maybe the fear of not knowing what these people wanted or intended was drowning out everything else.

  I glanced at the door. It, too, was silver-coated and made of thickened steel, with only a minute space between the bottom of the door and the floor. Even so, I might be able to get out that way, but not until the weakness that assailed my body eased. Shadowing in light was extremely hard and not always successful; to have any hope of escaping that way, I needed full strength.

  I studied the ceiling again, squinting against the harshness of the lights. I couldn’t see anything to indicate I was being monitored, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t.

  Bear, I thought. Explore.

  He hummed with pleasure and whipped through me, connecting us on a level far deeper than what we’d achieved in the park, because this time, the connection lingered once he pulled free.

  I closed my eyes and saw through his.

  There was a dark lane little more than a foot and a half wide just beyond my cell, and the air stirred sluggishly, suggesting there was a vent of some sort nearby. Bear spun around, but there were no other buildings behind my cell—nothing but a glimpse of stained silver that was Central’s curtain wall. Unbidden, he turned again and moved down the little lane, checking the small rooms to the left and right, finding nothing but wet, musty darkness. But as he drifted toward a short flight of stairs, voices began to edge across the silence—thick, angry voices. Bear followed the sound into a room slightly larger than mine. A half dozen chairs that had seen better days encircled a small electric stove on which several blackened pots sat. One held little more than water, and the other some sort of meat and vegetable mix.

  The voices were coming from the next room. Bear whisked through the wooden door, then stopped. We were back in the bar. One of the shifters—a female—leaned against the bar while Nuri stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips as she glared at the second of the shifters. He was a thickset man with a mass of golden hair and yellow eyes. Lion, I thought, as Bear drifted closer.

  “Fuck it to hell, Branna,” Nuri all but exploded. “Did you have to use the Iruakandji on her?”

  Iruakandji. No wonder it felt like I was knocking on death’s door. That particular drug had been developed in the latter part of war by the HDP, but rarely used. While it did kill shifters with great alacrity, it had proven unviable as a weapon not only because it was extremely costly to make, but because it was just as deadly to déchet, no matter how little shifter blood they had in them.

  What was even more interesting, though, was the fact this lot not only had access to it, but kept it close enough to use.

  “If there’s even the slightest possibility she’s a fucking déchet,” Branna said, flinging his arms out wide to emphasize his point, “then what does it matter? They’re supposed to be dead, and now she is.”

  “Most of us are supposed to be dead, Branna. Does that mean you’re going to use the poison on Jonas? Or Ela?”

  “He’d better not try,” the brown-haired woman said without looking up, “or he’ll find his balls shoved in the back of his fucking throat.”

  Branna grimaced. “Look, that’s totally different, and you know it.”

  “What I know,” Nuri said, “is that the déchet were designed to kill all shifters on sight. And yet this woman—if she was a déchet, and we have no real proof that she was—saved not only Penny, but a ranger. I wanted to know why.”

  “Well, it’s one of life’s little questions that’s going to have to remain a mystery, isn’t it, because I can’t fucking undo what I did.”

  And he didn’t want to, if his expression was anything to go by. Although if they were expecting me to be dead, then they were going to be pretty disappointed. When the HDP made those who were destined to become lures, they’d ensured we were immune to all known toxins and poisons. They had to, because that’s generally how lures killed when tasked to do so. Which didn’t mean we suffered no ill effects—we did. We just didn’t die from them—though I’d certainly prayed to Rhea to swiftly take both the little ones and me when they’d filled our bunker with Draccid.

/>   But then, Draccid was a particularly insidious gas that entered the body through breath or via exposed flesh, and melted you from the inside out. It was a hideous way to die—something I knew because I’d come very close to death myself. In fact, the strong psychic connection I had with Cat and Bear was undoubtedly due to the fact that they’d not only died in my arms, but that some of our DNA had mingled on that dreadful day.

  But being immune didn’t make me immortal. Far from it. Any regular weapon that would kill a vampire could kill me, with the exception of light.

  “I just wish you’d fucking think before you react for a change!” Nuri swung around and headed for the door. “I dreamed of her coming for a reason, Branna, and—”

  She stopped abruptly and stared at the empty space where Bear hovered. And given the slight narrowing of her gaze, I had no doubt she was aware not only of him, but of my link with him.

  “Well, well, well,” she added. “Maybe all is not as lost as we thought. Branna, go see if Jonas is awake and aware, and get him to meet me down in the cell if he is.”

  He muttered something under his breath, but turned on his heel and disappeared through another doorway.

  Nuri took a step in our direction. “So, little ghost—”

  Bear turned and fled before she could finish, and I can’t say I blamed him. He wasn’t used to confronting someone like her—hell, I wasn’t used to confronting someone like her, but obviously, I soon would be.

  Bear whisked into the cell, and I held out my hand. He came to rest on my palm, and I flooded our connection with soothing energy. After a while, he calmed down enough to sever the link, then drift upward, hovering near the ceiling. Cat remained near my left shoulder, her energy dancing across my skin like tiny fireflies.

  I took a deep breath and released it slowly, but it didn’t do much to ease the tension that ripped through my burning limbs. Damn it, I needed to get out of here! I might often hunger for company that was solid rather than ghostly, but I’d rather spend another hundred years alone with my ghosts than endure five minutes in the company of people like these.