Read City of Light Page 26


  “If this place is attacked, it will not be from anything we have said or done.”

  An assurance that didn’t sit well, especially given she hadn’t answered the actual question. And, I judged, had no intention of doing so.

  “Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll try. But you do realize that if Jonas is still alive, it’s because they have plans for him. Or because they are using him as bait.”

  “I’m aware of those factors, and that is why you must leave now. They will not be expecting a response so quickly.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. “And just how do you expect me to get up there? No matter what the rumors are about vampires, they can’t fly, and neither can I.” Or, at least, not when there was any light about.

  “Our ATV is parked behind the museum. Use it.” She tossed me a control disk. “Bring him back to us alive, Tiger. It’s just as important to you as to us that this happens.”

  I frowned. “Meaning what?”

  She waved the question away. “Go. Your ghosts will come to no harm.”

  “When it comes to the ghosts, it’s probably you who should be worried, not me. They will fight you if you attempt anything untoward.”

  “I won’t, not as long as you uphold your end of the deal.” She half shrugged. “And Branna has neither the skill nor the knowledge to harm them. He is fury and bluster, nothing more.”

  I seriously doubted that. None of these people were what they appeared on a surface level—they all had deeper depths, and certainly deeper secrets. I hesitated a moment longer, but my innate awareness of night and day told me the sun was on the march through the afternoon sky. If I was to have any hope of pulling this rescue off, then it had to be done before dusk set in and the vampires woke.

  Cat, Bear, stay here and keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t release Branna. Warriors, stand down. Do not attack them. With that, I spun on my heel and walked out.

  And prayed like hell that by trusting Nuri, I wasn’t making the biggest mistake of my long life.

  • • •

  I drove the ATV as close to the base as I dared, but made no effort to conceal its presence nor pull off the road. I simply turned it around so that we could jump straight into it and flee—presuming we actually made it out of the base alive, that is.

  Besides, if there were watchers about, they’d spot the vehicle sooner rather than later. The canopy high above might be thick enough to reduce the fading daylight to mere flickers—and therefore stop any guards on the wing from spotting me—but there was no such protection here at ground level. The undergrowth was thick and crawling with shadows, neither of which was a deterrent when it came to vampires. And if they had set patrols around the perimeter of the base, they’d see past any attempt of concealment. The transport was too big—and chewed up the soil too badly—to escape detection. Which is why I was here, on the opposite side of the valley from where we’d entered last time. I was hoping against hope that Sal had forgotten about the déchet entrance into this place.

  I slipped the control disk into my pocket, then reached back to grab the large rucksack and climbed out. Though I’d packed enough weapons to cater for a small army, I still couldn’t escape the fear it wasn’t going to be enough. But then, given Nuri, Jonas, and Branna—and who knows how many others—had already failed to raid this place, it was a fear that was well-founded.

  I slung the rucksack over my back and scanned the nearby trees, trying to remember where exactly the path that led to the riverside entrance was. After a moment I spotted the marker rock, although the faint path that should have been evident just beyond it had long ago returned to its forest roots.

  I moved into the thick undergrowth. I couldn’t hurry in case I missed one of the markers, and yet I was all too aware that time—and the night—were pressing closer.

  It took twenty minutes to get to the river, and by that time I was sweating with effort and fear. I squatted at the base of a battered and fire-scarred old eucalyptus tree and scanned the clearing before me. It really hadn’t changed all that much in over a hundred years and—despite the forest’s obvious attempts to reclaim its land—the rock-strewn ground between here and the wide river remained relatively open. My gaze swept upstream toward the waterfall that masked the entrance. The river still thundered over the forty-feet drop and spray spun through the air, rainbow bright in the day’s last dance of light. I couldn’t see anything out of place and certainly couldn’t smell anything other than earth, water, and eucalyptus.

  If there were watchers here, they were well concealed.

  I rose and headed upstream, keeping to the shadows that were growing ever thicker along the tree line. I paused again as the old path dipped toward the waterfall, prickles of unease crawling across my skin. This place was too quiet—there wasn’t even birdsong. It was as if this part of the forest had been stripped of all life and sound. Which, considering vampires now controlled the base, was entirely possible. They had to be eating something, after all, and given the numbers I’d seen and the lack of fresh bodies and bones, they obviously weren’t dining on one another.

  I scanned the shoreline as well as the ridge above, but once again couldn’t see anyone—which didn’t mean they weren’t there. I eyed the faint path that disappeared behind the water, and wondered if the unease growing ever stronger within me stemmed from the certainty that this was a trap, or merely fear of what I was about to attempt.

  Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like I could turn around and walk away.

  I shifted the heavy bag to a slightly more comfortable position, then continued on. It would probably have been safer to call to darkness within and become one with the gathering night, but I really couldn’t afford to waste the energy—not when I was going to need every scrap I could muster if I was to have any hope of getting us both out of here.

  I carefully made my way down to the base of the waterfall. The air grew thick with spray that shimmered like a rainbow and clung to my clothes like silvery jewels. I kept close to the ridge wall and headed under the fall. The path was slick with moisture and thick moss, evidence enough that no one had been this way for some time. And despite Jonas’s statement that shifters had blasted the secondary tunnel into the base wide-open, there was little in the way of damage to be seen here. But then, this was the déchet entrance. They’d no doubt had a completely separate entrance for human personnel.

  I ran my hand along the wall, the rock cold and slimy under my fingertips, and eventually found the indentations I needed. After flicking open the false rock panel, I brushed away the cobwebs and bits of slime, then pulled the old lever down. The machinery that powered this particular door was water-driven, so there was a fair chance it was still operational. If it wasn’t, I could use the emergency exit on the top of the ridge, but that was another twenty minutes away and would erase any chance I had of getting in and out before the vamps woke.

  For several minutes, there was no response; then, with a sharp pop, a gap began to appear as the otherwise solid rock wall slid open. It ground to a halt again before the door was fully opened, but a three-feet gap provided more than enough room to get through.

  I dropped the rucksack close to the base of the wall and opened it up. After pulling out the last of the flares and shoving them into a smaller pack, I grabbed several modified rifles, some ammo, and a couple of pistols. Once I’d strapped on my knives, I slung the smaller pack over my shoulder and moved into the tunnel, leaving the bigger rucksack—and the bulk of the weapons—behind. I had no idea what shape Jonas was going to be in, and I couldn’t carry both him and the rucksack. Not in shadow form, anyway. Hell, I wasn’t even sure it was possible to carry him in that form. If I couldn’t, all the weapons in the world weren’t going to help. But if we did happen to make it back this far, we’d at least have a fresh supply of ammo and weapons to move on with.

  As the deeper darkness of the tunnel enveloped me, I called to the shadows within and became one with the night. I rose upward,
until my particles brushed the slick and slimy roofline, and then pressed on. The tunnel was long and angled steeply downward, but there was very little evidence of the desecration visible in the upper levels. Maybe there’d been no need to come down this far—or maybe there’d simply been no one left to rip apart by the time they’d gotten down here. At least it meant there were no ghosts here.

  I reached a cross-section and paused, looking right and left as I tried to get my bearings. The air was still, and I had no sense of life nearby. There were no vampires here; maybe they were all concentrated on the levels above, protecting the labs and whatever else was going on up there.

  After a moment, I went left. The tunnel narrowed and burrowed deeper into the earth. I knew from the few times I’d been here that the two levels below this were a mix of déchet quarters and containment cells. In some sections, the only thing that had separated us from our prisoners had been the thick, silver coated metal bars that made up each containment cell—and sometimes they’d been woefully inadequate. Though I’d never witnessed it, I’d heard tales of bear shifters bending the bars as easily as butter, then running amok through the déchet ranks, taking out a dozen or so before being gunned down by humans. Déchet warriors might have been bred to be as fast and strong as shifters, but they’d also been chemically castrated—not just physically, but mentally. Free thought wasn’t something the humans wanted—not when their creations were as deadly as the shifters they were designed to fight. As a result, most of those in these levels would have been in a sort of “holding pattern” and incapable of defending themselves. It was just another thing to hate about a war that had caused so much grief and destruction.

  I did a thorough search of both lower levels, but didn’t find Jonas in either. Not that I was surprised; breaking him out was hardly going to be that easy. I sped back up the tunnel until I reached the crossroads again, then scooted through the smashed remains of what once had been the main déchet-processing terminal for this bunker. I found the stairs and moved upward, checking the next two levels and still finding nothing. There was now only one more level before I reached the labs I’d discovered. If I’d had fingers and toes in this form, they all would have been crossed in the hope that I’d find Jonas on that level rather than on the floor above, where all the vamps were.

  Except they weren’t all there.

  The second I moved into the next level, I sensed them. Their presence stung my particles, as did the thick sense of hunger and fury. They wanted to slash and tear and feed, but were being restrained, even in sleep.

  I had to get Jonas out before that restraint broke—because it would break, if what I was sensing was any indication.

  I moved on carefully, away from the vampires rather than toward them. I had no doubt they were clustered around Jonas’s cell, but I couldn’t leave the remaining sections of this level unchecked.

  There was no one else here. I had no idea what this level had been used for when the base was active, but these days it seemed to be little more than a weird mix of rusting debris and more recent metal containers. Interestingly, those containers had government IDs. Someone had connections; either that, or Sal and his crew were in the pirate business as well as child experimentation.

  With the remainder of the level checked, I had no choice but to move toward the vampires. The closer I got to them, the thicker the air became with their rank scent, and the more my fear grew. It was lucky I was one with the night rather than flesh, because they would have picked up the thunder of my heart from a mile away.

  The first shimmers of white that indicated life appeared in the darkness; several vampires were sprawled over one another in a doorway. I rose higher, until every bit of me scraped across the cold steel of the roofline and slowly crept past them.

  The corridor beyond was a sea of white. There had to be at least a score of them here. Rhea help us both if they woke up before we got out . . .

  A shiver ran through me, which was always an odd sensation when in particle form. I crept along the roofline, all senses centered on the sea of death sprawled below me. About halfway down, several stirred. I paused, hoping they hadn’t sensed me. That it was just the natural stirrings of nocturnal creatures very close to waking up.

  They settled down again, but it didn’t ease my tension. Night was too close and time was running out. They would wake soon. I had to be out of here before that happened.

  The end of the corridor came into sight. The door that barred my way was heavy steel that bore blast marks. That it was still usable, let alone able to contain a shifter while stopping the vampires from getting in, was a testament to how strong they’d once made these things. I paused and scanned the frame that held it. There wasn’t enough of a gap between it and the door for even particles to get through at either the sides or the top of the door, but there was a good inch gap at the base. It would do.

  I’d barely squeezed inside when the awareness of danger hit. I jagged sideways, and the thick metal bar that would have cut through the middle of my particles and done Rhea only knows what damage merely skimmed my side. But such was the force behind the blow that it sent me spinning away.

  Another blow came at me. I cursed mentally and surged upward, out of reach, even as I called to my flesh form. As the second blow sailed underneath me, I regained form and dropped to the ground, hitting hard but feetfirst.

  The third blow I caught and held, though the force of it shuddered up my arm and hurt like hell.

  “If you want to get out of this place alive,” I said, voice little more than a harsh whisper, “you’d better stop trying to kill me.”

  His shock was so fierce it hit almost as strongly as a physical blow. I really had no idea why I could sense this shifter’s emotions so clearly—especially when I wasn’t actively trying to read him—but I wished it would stop. Especially now, when the distinct lack of emotion in his expression belied the strength of that emotive swirl.

  I swung the pack from my back and squatted down. “We have about five minutes before the vampires wake—”

  “I’ve only ever seen one race other than the vampires able to do what you just did,” he cut in, voice harsh. “I was right—you’re one of them. You’re a déchet.”

  I glanced up quickly. The fierce shock I’d felt only seconds ago had turned to anger. Anger and utter hatred. He hadn’t moved, but every ounce of him quivered like a bow too tightly strung. One wrong move, and we would both be dead.

  “But not a soldier, no matter what you think.” My voice was calm, despite the tension rising within me. Tension the vampires closest to the door would sense if they were anywhere near consciousness. “And, right now, I’m your only means of getting out of here.”

  He snorted, and I couldn’t help noticing his clenched fists. Even in the blackness, his knuckles glowed white, but somehow he was restraining the urge to lash out.

  For now.

  “Nuri would never—”

  “Nuri sent me,” I cut in. “There is no one else coming, Jonas, so you have a choice—me or death.”

  His expression very much suggested death might be a better option. I would have laughed if it hadn’t been so dangerous. It seemed there were some prejudices that could never be breached, no matter how much time had passed.

  Which made Nuri’s comment that I had to rescue him for my own sake even more baffling.

  I pushed upright, weapons in hand. “Choose, shifter.”

  “And if I choose death?”

  “Then you are a fool. But if that is your decision, then you can have the weapons. At least you can go down fighting.”

  I offered him the shotgun and pistol. It was a dangerous ploy given the emotional turmoil and his obvious desire to kill, but there was no other option. To get out of here, I had to trust him.

  And he had to trust me.

  His gaze flickered to the weapons, then met mine again. After a moment, he took the shotgun, flipped it around, and pointed both barrels straight at my face.

/>   “What if the death I choose is yours?”

  The tension boiling through me sharpened abruptly, but I didn’t let any of it show physically. It might have been a very long time since I’d used any of my seductress skills, but I could still control my emotional output if I really desired—although if he could read me as well as I seemed to be reading him, it was probably a pointless exercise.

  “If that is your choice, then so be it.” I shrugged. “But even if you somehow make it out of here alive, you will never find those children.”

  “Says who?”

  “Nuri.” I hesitated, then added, “And you might wish to know I have no more desire to be here than you have to be rescued by me. But Nuri threatened the lives of every ghost within my bunker. I cannot let my little ones die any more than you would choose to walk away from those still missing.”

  For several precious moments, neither of us moved. Outside the bunker, dusk was dying, and inside the vampires were beginning to stir. We had two minutes, if that, before all hell broke loose.

  “Choose, shifter. Now.”

  “Then I choose life.” He lowered the shotgun. “Yours and mine.”

  For now.

  Once again, he might not have said those last two words, but they nevertheless hovered in the gulf between us.

  “Fine,” I said, to both what had been said and what had not. I handed him a pistol, then reached back into the pack and retrieved the remaining weapons, clipping them to my belt before slinging several ammo clips over my shoulder. I shoved three flares into my leg pockets; the other two and the remaining ammo clips I gave to him.

  “How do you plan to get us out of here?”

  His voice was so cold it sent frost down my spine. It was stupid to care given this was the very reaction I’d been expecting if he ever confirmed I was déchet. But I did, and I couldn’t entirely blame my breeding—or rather, my innate attraction to shifters—because I’d never experienced this sort of reaction before.

  I took a deep breath and called to the shadows within. As the darkness surged and began to change me, I said, “The same way I got in.”