About ten minutes later, a white-suited, rather distinguished-looking gentleman with silvery hair exited the building and began walking toward me. Not only was he talking into the comm on his wrist and paying scant attention to where he was going, but he was also a shifter—a cat of some kind, if the scent I was picking up was anything to go by. It made him the perfect target.
I briefly closed my eyes and began to flood the air with pheromones. While for most this was an automatic attraction response, we lures had been designed to seduce. I could not only release pheromones at will, but also increase or decrease the potency of them, depending on how fiercely I needed my target to be attracted.
Of course, my control wasn’t so absolute that I could totally override instinct. My attraction to Jonas was evidence enough of that.
In this particular case, however, I just needed his interest at a level where he wouldn’t immediately question my actions, but not so much so that he could think of nothing more than bedding me.
I flexed my fingers in an attempt to ease the gathering tension, and when he was almost level with the doorway in which I stood, I stepped out and cannoned into him. I hit with enough force to send us both tumbling, but his arms automatically went around me, cushioning my fall even as we hit the pavement.
“Oh Rhea, I’m sorry,” I said, even as I wrapped my fingers around his arm and opened the floodgates on my seeker skills.
Seeking wasn’t telepathy—we couldn’t directly read thoughts; we simply picked up a mix of emotion and mental images and made judgments from those. My skills were more honed to bedroom use, but I could still snatch information from something as simple as a touch if I went into the process with one single question that needed answering rather than multiple.
In this case, that question was Nadel Keller—was he still in the building or had he left? Images began to flit through my mind—images that involved the stranger’s most recent actions and the people he’d talked to. Seeking answers through touch like this was often hit-and-miss, even if the information I was after was simple.
“It was entirely my fault,” he replied. “I was too busy booking my table for the evening to be watching where I was going.”
His voice was husky, his body responding to both my closeness and the pheromones I was outputting.
I rolled to one side but kept a light touch on his arm as he sat upright. His gaze skimmed my length, then settled on my legs—specifically, the amount of thigh the split in my tunic was revealing.
“I guess that means we’re both at fault,” I said. “As I wasn’t watching, either.”
The images kept on flowing, diving deeper into the day’s actions, continuing to provide glimpses of those he’d interacted with. So far, there was no sign of Keller.
“A gentleman should nevertheless do his utmost to avoid crashing into a lady. And I do apologize.”
He climbed to his feet. The abrupt disconnection had my mind reeling.
I made a show of trying to get up, then collapsed with a slight wince of pain and began rubbing my ankle.
Concern immediately touched his expression. “You’re hurt? Shall I call medical?”
“No, I’m sure I just landed weirdly. If you could just help me up . . .” I gave him a wide smile and held out my hand.
He gripped it. The minute our hands touched, my seeker skills flashed into overdrive. Images spun through me, but Keller’s profile was noticeably absent. Either this man didn’t know him or their paths hadn’t crossed that day.
And as much as I wanted to, I didn’t dare come out and ask. I had no idea how suspicious Sal’s partners were, or how close an eye they might be keeping on Winter Halo’s top employees, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
The stranger pulled me upright and slipped a hand under my elbow in support as I wobbled about on one leg. His grip was firm and warm, and perhaps a touch more intimate than required. Even so, I ramped up the strength of my pheromone output a little. I didn’t need him thinking too much right now.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” His gaze skimmed me, but it held a whole lot more appreciation than concern. “Because it wouldn’t take long—”
“I’m fine.” I put some weight on my foot to demonstrate and gave him another warm smile. “Thanks for the concern, though.”
“Do you need help to get anywhere?”
I hesitated. “I’m actually supposed to be meeting a friend at Seven Sins, but I don’t know this area very well. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, do you?”
“I do, thanks to the fact that the ladies in my office seem to talk about nothing else.” His smile flashed, and it lent warmth to his otherwise austere features. “It’s two blocks up, but over on Seventh. I can escort you there, if you’d like.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”
“Well, if you do happen to find yourself at a loose end later this evening, I’d love to buy you a drink to apologize for my clumsiness. I’ve booked a table at Zendigah’s on Second at eight.” He hesitated and gave me a crooked smile. “I’m Charles Fontaine, by the way.”
“Cat.” It was the first name that came to my mind, and my using it would undoubtedly amuse my little ghost immensely.
“Short for Catherine?”
“Yes, though no one but my mother ever called me that.”
“Then I certainly shan’t.” He gave me a nod. “I hope to see you tonight.”
“And perhaps you will.” I caught his arm and leaned forward to brush a kiss against his cheek. There was no suspicion in his thoughts, only a wish to continue the conversation.
With that, I left him. While his regret chased me, he remained where he was and simply watched me walk away. Which meant I’d judged the attraction levels just right, and that was somewhat gratifying. I might not have used the skills I’d been designed with much since the end of the war, but at least my control and judgment hadn’t lessened any in that time.
Once I’d entered the next walkway and was out of his sight, I ran toward Seventh. Few people paid me much attention; running might be frowned upon in the more genteel areas near Central’s heart, but it wasn’t so uncommon in the middle-class and poorer areas. I paused when I hit Seventh Street. I didn’t immediately spot anyone resembling Keller, so I hurried forward, studying each building as I passed it, looking for the Heldan Apartments.
I found them one block up and, at the same time, saw Keller coming out of a food collective a few doors farther on. He was a tall man with receding blond hair and a thin unpleasant face. As he turned toward his apartment, his gaze swept me, moved past, then snapped back.
Sal had told me Keller liked his women black skinned and big breasted, which was precisely why the form I was now wearing was the complete opposite in almost every way but one—my breasts. I was banking on the fact that a man whose preference ran to ladies with large breasts was always going to look even if said lady did not fit his ideals in other ways. Given Keller’s reaction, it would seem I was right. I sashayed toward him. He didn’t move; he simply watched.
But as I got close, something strange began to happen. His face lost color, blood began to trickle out of the corners of his eyes, and bubbles appeared at the corners of his mouth.
Then, with little sound or elegance, he fell backward to the pavement.
Dead.
Chapter 4
I stopped, a curse on my lips, and both surprise and frustration rippling through me. No one else seemed to notice what had happened, and for several seconds people simply walked around his prone form. Then a woman screamed and two men squatted next to fallen Keller, loosening his clothes and attempting to revive him.
But I knew those signs. Keller had been poisoned. There would be no revival.
Which was frustrating, to say the least.
I walked on, around his body and the gathering crowd, and spotted
Seven Sins on the opposite side of the street. After waiting for several airscooters to zip past, I walked across and grabbed a table next to the window. A waitress appeared almost immediately, and after I’d ordered a coffee and one of the macarons Jonas had mentioned, I crossed my arms and watched what was happening with Keller’s body. The two men were still attempting to bring him back, and there were several people using their wristcoms, calling either medical, the corps, or maybe even the news. Everyone else seemed content to simply watch. I skimmed their faces, looking for anyone who either snagged my instincts or looked familiar. Despite what I’d said to Jonas, I did have some idea what one of Sal’s partners looked like. The day after I’d used my seeker skills on Sal, I’d asked Cat and Bear to shadow him and report back on everything he did, and everyone he met. While he’d spent most of the day working at Hedone, a high-end brothel he’d owned, he did make one journey outside—to meet a tall, thin-faced man with shadowed skin, dark hair, and magnetic blue eyes, deep in the heart of Winter Halo. My little ghosts hadn’t liked the alien feel of that stranger, and I really had no doubt that he was one of the two people who’d been caught in that rift with Sal.
So why had they killed Keller? Was it simply a matter of tying up all loose ends? It wasn’t likely to be coincidence that Keller had been murdered not long after several bombs were set off at the bunker. Whether they’d meant to trap me in or out of it really didn’t matter; what did was the fact that they were covering their tracks and would undoubtedly be extra cautious from this point on—and that meant I’d have to do the same.
It was a good thing that the only alterations I’d made to my natural body shape were to erase the black stripes out of my silvery white hair, and increase both my height and breast size. Sal’s partners might know I could body-shift, but my short hair and the simple tunic I was wearing were currently very fashionable in Central’s expensive heart. Even if they had been watching Keller’s movements, it was doubtful they’d have picked me out of the crowd. Not when there were so many other tunic-clad, silvery-haired women and men on the streets right now.
The waitress brought over my coffee and macaron. Once I’d swiped my RFID chip over the scanner to transfer the appropriate number of credits, I picked up the macaron and cautiously bit into it. I might have ordered it for cover purposes, but, by Rhea, it was good—thin and crunchy on the outside, softer than a cloud on the inside, and the absolutely most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. If I’d known exactly how many more credits I had left, I would have ordered a couple more. And probably would have made myself utterly sick in the process, given that sweet things and I weren’t always compatible. My taste buds tended to lean more toward the bitter end of the scale—a result, no doubt, of the fact that there’d been nothing like this offered to déchet in the military bunkers, and sweets had certainly been scarce in the shifter camps I’d been sent to during the war.
I licked every tiny crumb off my fingers, then nursed my coffee and continued to watch events across the street. Both the corps and medical turned up, and an exclusion zone was quickly set up around Keller’s body. Corps interviewed the two men who’d attempted to save Keller, as well as the people who’d called in the death. There was little else they could do. Keller’s body was soon bundled into a bag and whisked away. The two corps officers moved down the street and disappeared into the Heldan Apartments. Obviously, they were going to inspect Keller’s residence. I wished I could do the same, but that would be entirely too dangerous. But it was, perhaps, an action Nuri or one of her team could undertake.
Which left me with Charles.
He might not have had anything to do with Keller either today or at any time, but I’d gotten the impression he was a fairly high-level employee within Winter Halo. If that was true, then he could at least provide me with information on either the company—and what they might be up to—or the mysterious man in charge.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already close to eight, but I doubted my being late would make much difference. Not if the evening ended in Charles taking me to bed—which was precisely my aim. My seeker skills were far more intense—and reliable—during sex.
I might have sworn after the war to only ever bed someone because I wanted to rather than had to, but there were lives at stake here. Young lives. I didn’t care what—or who—I had to do; not if the result was bringing those missing kids out from whatever hell they were currently in.
I finished my coffee and then walked out of the café and headed for Second Street. It took me close to twenty minutes to get there, then another ten to find Zendigah’s. It was a small three-story building situated on the corner of Second and a cross street into First, and its interior was as shadowed as any of these places ever got. A large—and very real—hearth dominated the small room. The fire belted out so much heat the air practically shimmered, and there were half a dozen leather sofas scattered about, most occupied by white-clad gentlemen either reading or drinking. Charles wasn’t among them.
A waiter made his way through the chairs and gave me a welcoming smile. “How may I help you this evening?” His voice was soft and plummy, and perfectly matched his plush surroundings.
“I believe Charles Fontaine might be expecting me.”
“Ah yes, he did mention there might be an additional guest this evening. Please, this way.”
I followed him through the small room and up a rather steep set of stairs. The second level held six well-spaced tables, all of which were occupied, but we moved on to the third—and final—level. This floor was almost entirely all glass, and it gave a view directly down the cross street and into Central’s one and only park. Charles’s table held the prime spot for that view, which had to mean he was not only high-level within Winter Halo, but also rather wealthy. A view like that certainly wouldn’t come cheap, no matter what the establishment.
He looked up as we approached, and a pleased smile creased his features as he rose.
“I do hope your invitation was sincere,” I said as the waiter pulled out the chair opposite. I subtly began releasing pheromones again. “Otherwise this could get a little awkward.”
“No, no, I’m pleased you accepted my invitation.” He waited until I was seated, then sat back down. “I’ve only just ordered—would you like something?”
“Whatever you’re having will be fine.” And undoubtedly far better than anything I would have had back at the bunker. “How are you feeling after our rather abrupt meeting this evening?”
“I think I’ve come away with nothing more than a bruised hip. Yourself?”
“Same.” I smiled up at the waiter as he poured me a wine, then picked up the glass and raised it. “To new friendships.”
Charles clicked his glass against mine, then took a drink, his gaze scanning me appreciatively over the top of the glass. “I have to admit some surprise that a lady as lovely as yourself was unattended.”
Which was a very subtle way of asking if there was anyone in my life. I smiled. “I could say the same about a gentleman such as yourself.”
“Ah well, I’m afraid I’m rather committed to my work. It makes relationships . . . difficult.”
“Just so.” I took a drink. “So, what work is it that you’re so committed to, if it’s not impolite to ask?”
“I’m the financial director at Winter Halo.” He grimaced. “It is a somewhat demanding position.”
Financial director? Intuition really had picked a ripe one when it had settled on this man; if he didn’t know where the skeletons were buried, few would.
“And one I suspect you do not wish to talk about.”
“Well, not really. What about yourself?”
“I’m currently between positions.” I shrugged. “And certainly not in a hurry to find anything right now. I’m enjoying the leisure time.”
He smiled and started talking about what he did on his days off. I listened attentively
, nodding and laughing wherever appropriate. Which isn’t to say I wasn’t enjoying myself—Charles was a nice if somewhat old-fashioned gentleman, and the food and the view were spectacular.
As the waiter brought us both a coffee, Charles leaned back in the chair, his expression warm but somewhat contemplative. “I’ve really enjoyed this evening.”
“Yes, it’s been lovely.” Which didn’t give him much in the way of a lead-in, but that was deliberate. Going back to his place had to be his idea, not mine.
“Yes.” His gaze briefly dropped to my breasts. Desire spun, sharper than before. Keller wasn’t the only one who was a breast man, obviously. After a small pause, Charles added, “If it’s not too forward of me, would you like to come back to my place for a nightcap?”
“Are we talking cognac?”
“We certainly are.”
“Then I would love to.”
He immediately called for the waiter and paid the bill. We walked outside in companionable silence, but the night air was crisp. I shivered and rubbed my arms; I needed to get some warmer clothes if this seduction went any further than one night.
Charles took off his coat and swung it around my shoulders. “My apartment isn’t too far away, though we’ll have to walk, as I don’t own a vehicle.”
He slid one hand down my spine to a point just above my tailbone. It was a point that would have informed him I was wearing no undergarments. The scent of desire grew sharper.
“A short walk will be pleasant after such a lovely meal.” I stepped a little closer so that my shoulder brushed his. His body trembled with expectation, which made me wonder just how long it had been since he’d lain with a woman.
His apartment was situated two blocks down from Zendigah’s, right behind the area on First Street that held most governmental buildings. Regulations restricted construction height to a maximum of twenty levels on both First and Second, and his building was one of the tallest. He scanned us in, then escorted me to the elevator. It, like the building itself, was glass fronted and, as we got higher, offered amazing views over the parkland. His apartment was situated on the twentieth level—a top position that was not only the most prestigious but also the most expensive.