by White, T. A.
Dangerous, Tate’s dragon said. Ghost.
“I wasn’t expecting you so soon,” the girl told Tate.
“Who are you?” Tate asked. She backed up half a step, unsettled that the stranger seemed to know her. “Do you know me?”
The girl tilted her head and looked quizzically at Tate. The effect fell flat, reminding Tate of a doll pretending at human emotion. “The better question is do you know me?”
“I don’t.”
The girl didn’t respond as her focus turned in on herself.
Night edged closer to Tate, his bulk brushing against her leg. He was seriously frightened of the girl for no reason Tate could discern. The stranger was creepy and odd but unarmed. It still remained to be seen how she got into the room without alerting either of them to her presence, but in a fight the two of them held the advantage.
“This variable has been provided for and while not optimal is not unexpected,” the girl said.
“I don’t understand,” Tate said, stepping forward. This stranger knew her. If she had answers, Tate wanted them.
“You will in time, Tatum Alegra Winters.”
“That name,” Tate whispered. It was hers or so similar to it that it resonated. Tears filled her eyes. A sense of recognition so deep welled up until she couldn’t believe she’d forgotten her name even for a moment. Other memories crowded round just out of reach. There but still hidden. She strained, trying to reach them only to have them float away as insubstantial and delicate as torn cobwebs.
Not all of it. Not my name, the dragon whispered. Not mine. The dragon moved restlessly, lashing its tail in agitation. Tate rested a hand on it, stilling its movement. Soon, she whispered to it. We’ll have the answers soon.
And they would. This was the start. The one piece of information that proved there was hope.
The girl walked closer, seeming to glide over the floor, her feet hardly touching it. She studied Tate closely.
“You are both less and more than I was led to expect,” the stranger said finally.
Tate licked her lips. There was so much to ask that she didn’t know where to begin. She practically quivered from the force of her curiosity.
“You seem to know who I am, but I’m afraid I’m at a lost as to you,” Tate finally said.
Once again the girl seemed to think of her answer, as if consulting some inner counselor. “I am Ai.” As if Tate held no more interest to her, Ai turned her attention to Night, who remained in his crouch throughout their conversation.
“1100 series,” she said thoughtfully. “You’re thriving better than projected. None of the previous abnormalities are evident, perhaps due to the effects of stasis.”
“Hey!” Tate shouted, stepping in front of Night. “I’ve come too far searching for answers, and you look like you know something about both of us. I want to know what you know. No more games. Out with it.”
Ai stared down at where Night would have been if Tate hadn’t moved in front of him. With an abrupt movement she met Tate’s eyes. Suddenly she was inches away from Tate, her ice blue eyes filling Tate’s vision.
Tate hadn’t seen Ai move. One moment she was a few feet away, the next standing close enough to touch if either breathed too deeply. Tate fought to keep from taking a step back. Perhaps it hadn’t been a great idea to antagonize the creepy lady.
“I have already told you. You will understand with time.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” Tate asked through numb lips.
Ai’s eyes were filled with an alien awareness, tiny pinpricks of light were visible if one looked deep enough. She smiled wistfully, the first totally human expression to cross her face since appearing before the two. “You do not like me,” Ai said instead of answering the question.
It threw Tate off balance, coming out of nowhere as it did. Whether the strange woman engendered feelings of like or dislike were a moot point to Tate, when what she wanted was information.
She was tempted to tell Ai that she did like, her, but something warned her that Ai would know if she lied. “I don’t know if I like you or not. I’ve really just met you,” Tate said haltingly. It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t entirely a lie either.
Ai’s face settled into the bland emptiness of before. “You are kind. Just like he said you would be. He said the lack of human expression would engender feelings of distrust and anxiety.”
“Who’s he?” Seeing that she didn’t intend to answer, Tate suggested, “Maybe all you need is practice.”
“Perhaps. May I practice with you?”
The question made Ai seem very innocent, and Tate had the sense she needed to tread carefully here. They were in a room and had so far not found any indication on how to escape. Their only chance at getting out might be the waiflike girl standing in front of her, and she got the feeling that, Ai, very like a child, wouldn’t care how much her request inconvenienced others. “Maybe some other time. Right now I have to help my friend.”
“You need to get to the Red Lady to rescue the cubs,” Ai said, her voice devoid of emotion.
How did you know that? Night shouted, aggression pouring off him.
“I watched. And listened, 1162.”
How can you hear me? He growled menacingly but didn’t move from his position.
Once again Ai gave her creepy smile. “How could I not? You are shouting very loudly.”
Tate gestured for him to stop. “How do you know Night?” she asked, taking a different tact hoping that Ai would answer the question.
“1100 series, bred for aggression and fighting skills. Originally intended as scouts or sentries. Talented climbers and better regeneration capabilities then the 1010 series. Previous genetic defects have seemingly disappeared, possibly as a result of prolonged exposure to chemical compound H3fc2. This may hold true for the others as well.”
“Others? What others?” Tate asked, only understanding about a third of what she’d said.
“The others are considered exponentially more dangerous with a factor of three on the Hadrian scale. I will not be able to keep them asleep much longer, Tatum Alegra Winters. The key must be found or the four will not stand.”
“Asleep? Do you mean to tell me that you’re the one who is responsible for taking our memories, our lives from us?” Tate shouted. “Is that it, Ai?”
“I cannot answer that question, Tatum Alegra Winters.”
Tate turned over what she had said in her head. “Tell me something, Ai?” she pleaded.
Ai tilted her head, once again having a private consult in her mind. “I woke 1162 and the ones you call the Tsuchigon as well as many others. I did not wake you nor know who did.”
Tate closed her eyes. It was something. Not much, but something. More than she’d had this morning. Or was it yesterday morning? It felt like they’d been wandering the tunnels for days.
She struggled to find gratitude for what scraps of information she had obtained but wanted more.
“You must go, Tatum Alegra Winters,” Ai said abruptly.
She’s right, Tate, my cubs need our help before it’s too late, Night urged.
“We can’t go yet,” Tate said desperately. “I haven’t found anything out yet.”
“Nevertheless, you must go.” Ai’s face was expressionless as she raised one hand, palm facing out to them. An unseen force smashed into Tate’s chest sending her flying back, Night following her. Instead of crashing into the wall, she sailed through it as if it didn’t exist.
“You must look below the surface for that which you seek,” Ai’s voice echoed softly throughout the room.
She landed in a pile on the tunnel floor, Night tumbling down inches from her. She bounded to her feet and raced to the now solid rock, pounding her fists against it.
“Let me in,” she screamed, her knuckles scraped and bleeding from attacking the stone. She didn’t let that stop her as she drove her body against it again, and again. “Let me in. We aren’t finished.”
Night latched onto
the cloth of her pants and dragged her back. Tate, we must go. Shh. Shh, now.
Tears rolled silently down her face as he dragged her further away.
“I will find the answers,” she whispered.
Chapter Ten
Tate had withdrawn into silence as she kept pace with Night’s ground eating stride. Not being able to find out more about her past had been a devastating blow. She needed those answers, wanted them, yearned for them. It was difficult to focus on what needed to be done, but she did. Because it was important.
Though it hurt, there was a positive side to all this. Now she knew that someone had the answers. Finding them could wait. For now.
Ai had deposited them right on the edge of the Red Lady’s territory away from any of Lucius’ men or the Tsuchigon. How Night knew their location was a mystery. To Tate, every tunnel was identical to the last. But he assured her he knew right where they were.
By the time Night signaled for a stop, Tate had worked through most of her disappointment. She regretted her loss of control about as much as she did the pain that now resonated from her knuckles, a deep, heavy throbbing that continuously reminded her of her tantrum.
Night stopped moving and reared up onto his hind legs. He put his paws on the wall and sniffed. He dropped back down.
We’ll have to be careful the closer we get. I’ve dealt with her guards before, and they can be difficult.
The narrow space in the tunnels would make it nearly impossible to sneak up on any guards.
“I hope you have a plan, then,” she told him.
He chuffed at her and flicked his tail. I do have a plan.
Tate folded her arms. “I can’t wait to hear it.”
You’re going to be bait. He bared his teeth in a feline smile.
Tate dropped her arms and straightened. “I beg your pardon.”
Relax, I won’t let you get captured. You’ll go first as a distraction, he explained. I’ll come up behind and disable any guards that we see.
If they were careful and the guards didn’t attack Tate on sight, it might work. It was chancy and required a lot of faith on her part that Night would be there when she needed him. Quite frankly, it was the only plan they had. After the trust issues with Umi and crew, Tate was really hoping Night had a sense of honor and loyalty.
They both agreed Tate would clear the way as Night followed from a distance. They made sure she was never more than a turn ahead. The whole plan hinged on his superior hearing. As long as he stayed close, he would hear when she encountered any guards. While she distracted them, he’d sneak up and disable them.
That was how Tate came to be walking down the endless labyrinth of corridors by herself. She jerked at a perceived noise and paused as she waited with baited breath. Nothing happened. She almost laughed at her own jumpiness but remembered why she was jumpy in the first place.
She stopped at the next turn in the tunnels and listened closely before peeking around the corner. It was empty, and she exhaled with relief. She stepped out and strolled down the hall.
Two men turned the corner up ahead. She froze in place, blinking rapidly at them. They hadn’t noticed her quite yet, absorbed as they were in their own conversation.
“Night,” she whispered as softly as she could. “We’ve got company. If I die I’m so coming back to haunt you.”
The guards noticed her standing there and stopped abruptly, their hands dropping to their weapons, as startled as she’d been earlier. She smiled and gave a little wave. No cause for concern here, just a harmless female lost in the tunnels.
They eyed her suspiciously before glancing around to assure themselves that she was alone. Once it was apparent that she was the only other person there, they straightened from their defensive crouch and walked up with a cocky bounce in their step. She didn’t let the smile fall from her face, but she felt the strain of keeping the pleasant expression when they eyed her like she was a piece of meat.
“What’re you doing here, female?” the shorter one asked gruffly.
Tate let a little relief filter into her expression. “Oh, thank the Saviors. People.” She sniffed loudly but couldn’t quite get tears in her eyes. “I’ve been down here for hours. I was so lost. I thought I’d die down here.”
They shared a look but didn’t seem too surprised. Evidently it was something they’d heard before.
“If you can just get me to the surface, I have family who could pay you for your trouble,” Tate said.
The tall one shook his head in resignation. “Sorry, love. You really have no luck. This is the Red Lady’s territory, and she keeps what she finds.”
He took her by the arm and marched her back the way they came. The other man followed behind.
“What?” Tate stammered. “You can’t do that.”
“Afraid so. The Emperor’s Justice doesn’t reach down to the catacombs. Down here lostlings, like you, are used in any manner the lady sees fit.” He gave her a once over. “You seem pretty enough. Maybe you’ll be lucky, and they’ll keep you as a pleasure girl. If not, you’ll be used as a bait or heavy labor. Both have short life spans. Isn’t that right, Quinn?”
Silence greeted his question. He pulled her to a stop and looked back over his shoulder. “Quinn?”
His companion was a gory mess on the ground. More terrifying was Night crouched over him with blood coating the fur around his mouth and front paws. Even Tate’s heart gave a painful thump.
The man’s mouth opened for a scream while he fumbled for the sword at his waist. Tate’s fist flew catching him in the throat, cutting the sound off before it could start.
“Guess you should have just shown me to the surface,” she muttered.
Night was a blur as he flew past her, landing on her captor and riding him to the ground. A quick chomp and fierce shake of Night’s head and the man would never scream again.
“This isn’t exactly what I thought you meant by disable.”
They were a threat. I eliminated them. Night looked up from the carcass and licked his lips. He padded to her side and rubbed his shoulder against her.
She patted him on the head. She didn’t really fault him for his logic, not after what the two had been planning for her. It was just unexpected. She ran her fingers through the fur at his ruff with a troubled expression on her face. It shouldn’t have been so surprising. He was a predator, after all, with a predator’s instincts.
They encountered guards once more before reaching the Red Lady’s keep. The second set of guards was handled in the same matter as the first. They, like the first, offered little trouble and almost no resistance. As soon as they got a look at the seemingly defenseless Tate, they stopped even looking for another threat.
The Red Lady’s keep was located in a maze of rooms that was extravagantly decorated in expensive silks, most of which was some variation of red, gold and bronzes. Even the ceiling was covered by panels of fabric that masked the black stone. Several gilded cages were showcased in prominent areas, their occupants sitting listlessly on the floor. Tate’s stomach clenched at some of the figures. While some were obviously animals, there were just as many who were a cross between human and animal. One was as human looking as Tate. Evidently the Red Lady was something of a collector in the rare and unusual.
“This is wrong,” Tate whispered.
Yes. Night said, crouched beside where she hid just out of view of the room. These are the less lethal items in her collection. She keeps the deadlier pieces in a hidden room.
“Are they all from the tunnels.”
I don’t think so. Night’s tail whipped furiously behind him. I think they collect them from all over the world.
Red seemed to be the dominant theme in the room, from red silk to red clothes.
“I see where she gets her name.” Tate nodded to some of the furnishings.
Night said, quiet loathing emanating from his still form. That’s not why she has that name.
Tate grimaced as his meaning sunk in. How lovel
y. Another sadistic, mentally unstable person she could anger. With her luck there wouldn’t be a Night Lord left in this whole city Tate hadn’t angered in her first week.
“Let’s get this over with before we’re discovered,” Tate said drawing back into the tunnel. “Where are your cubs?”
Night picked up one paw and then set it back down, repeating the action with the other one. I’m not entirely sure.
Tate’s jaw clenched. Not entirely sure. That translated to he didn’t know. What did he expect they’d do, wander around until they just happened upon his cubs.
“We’ve come all this way, and you’re just mentioning this now?” She swatted him on the back. “The whole reason we’re here is to rescue them, and we can’t very well do that if we can’t find them, now can we?”
Night bared a fang and glared at her. He said plaintively, I have a plan.
“Were you ever going to share this plan?”
“Yes, do tell,” a snide voice said from behind them. “We’re dying to hear.”
Tate closed her eyes and dropped her chin to her chest. Why, why, why couldn’t anything ever go her way in this city?
She shot Night an unfriendly look. His hearing was good enough that he should have heard them sneaking up. The fact that he didn’t meant this was part of the plan he refused to share with her. She narrowed her eyes at him. His whiskers twitched in response.
Tate spun around with a friendly smile. “Gentlemen, I’m so glad to see you.” She clapped her hands together and gestured at Night. “I found something I think might interest the Red Lady.”
They regarded her with flat eyes, ones deadened by the things they’ve seen and done. Tate suppressed a shiver. These were hard men, only interested in the coin in their pockets and what they had to do to put it there. Mercenaries through and through, they held little compassion for anyone or anything.
The taller of the two sported a broad, flat face with a beard shadowing his jaw and his hair pulled back from his face. The other was shorter by only an inch and still towered over Tate by a good half a foot. A scar ran from the corner of his eye to his ear ruining what would have been a moderately attractive face. Neither looked like they believed Tate.
