Winter Halo

by Keri Arthur

  “Only if I can’t find a way to get out unseen.” I hesitated, remembering my initial impressions of Kendra. “Could latent psychic skills be one of the things they’re after? Maybe the first attack is nothing more than an investigation, and if the target passes that, they’re then blood-tested.”

  It would also explain why some guards weren’t attacked a second time.

  Nuri frowned. “You can’t confirm the existence of psychic skills through blood.”

  “No, but maybe once they confirm the existence of psychic skills, they’re testing for something else in the blood work.”

  Nuri’s frown deepened. “It’s possible, but I can’t see what benefit it would be to them. It’s not as if you can inject psychic skills as you would a virus.”

  “No, but the cells responsible for their existence can be grown and enhanced in a tube. I’m evidence enough of that.” I pushed my empty plate away and leaned back in the chair. “What if they’re doing what the humans did during the war? What if they’re creating not just a means of providing a sunlight immunity for vampires and wraiths, but a whole new race—one whose DNA is not only psi-enhanced but is a combination of wraith, vampire, and shifter?”

  “Impossible,” Jonas said automatically.

  “Why? Again, I’m living proof that the impossible is very possible.”

  “Yes, but it took years of research and experimentation to successfully produce déchet. And that was all destroyed at the end of the war.”

  “Are you sure? Because there were shiny new intrauterine beds up in the Broken Mountains base.”

  “Which in itself doesn’t mean anything,” Nuri said. But her expression was troubled.

  “Sal and I survived the war. What if someone else did? Someone like a scientist well versed in the means and methods of creating and enhancing life in a tube?”

  And that was possible, given Sal had been caught in a rift with two humans, even though he’d professed a hatred of them. He’d had no reason to be anywhere near them after the war—unless, of course, he’d had no choice.

  What if his two companions weren’t randoms? What if they were instead fellow military survivors—ones who happened to be a scientist and maybe even a handler?

  The latter would certainly explain why Sal had followed orders he didn’t agree with—not if the anger I’d witnessed after one phone call was anything to go by. Not only had déchet been rendered incapable of killing humans, but we also could not go against orders issued by our military handlers. If Sal’s handler was one of his two partners, then there would always be that innate pressure to obey, even if the rift had muddied their DNA and basically made them separate parts of a whole.

  “I guess it’s possible,” Jonas said. “But that only makes it more imperative we get inside Winter Halo.”

  “If they are creating such creatures,” Nuri said, voice heavy, “it is doubtful they’d be doing so within Winter Halo itself. Any form of gene manipulation carries the penalty of death. They can’t possibly control everyone who works within that place, and would not take such a risk.”

  “Which goes back to the intrauterine pods we discovered in the Broken Mountains base.”

  “And,” Jonas said, expression grim, “raises the scary prospect that they’ve already succeeded in creating a wraith capable of withstanding sunlight.”

  “Even if that is true, we have time to stop them,” I said. “This program hasn’t been running all that long, and any new being to come from it would still be young. If there’s one thing the déchet program revealed, it’s that growth can only be manipulated so far.”

  Nuri frowned. “Everything I’ve read suggests accelerant was used on déchet.”

  “It was. But development could only be increased to a certain point before death or madness stepped in—especially given that the mind doesn’t always grow at the same speed as the body.”

  “They might not care about that.” Jonas’s voice was grim. “Not if all they want is the eradication of life on this world.”

  “If they wanted total annihilation, why wouldn’t they just develop the rifts as a weapon? We still don’t understand them, even one hundred years down the track.” And we really had no protection against them, even if the huge metal curtain walls that protected all major cities from vampires also seemed to provide some sort of barrier against the rifts. “And the false rifts prove their existence here may not be as random as we first thought.”

  “The initial rifts were a consequence of the war and the bombs,” Nuri said. “Doorways were opened that never should have been, and the Others quickly took advantage of a whole new killing field.”

  “Then I guess we should just be thankful it has taken as long as it has to bring their plans to some sort of fruition.” I hesitated and scrubbed my hands through my hair. The steak had stopped the trembling weakness, but a dull ache remained behind the backs of my eyes. “I need to get moving if I’m to take Sharran’s place tonight.”

  Jonas rose. “I’ll get the scanner.”

  Nuri took a piece of paper from her pocket and pushed it toward me. “Here’s some basic background details you might not have gotten from Sharran’s mind.”

  I quickly scanned the list. It was indeed basic stuff, like where she’d been born, who her parents were, where her siblings where living and what they did, as well as where she currently lived and who her neighbors were. Everyday stuff that I hadn’t gotten from her mind, and which might well trip me up if I wasn’t very careful.

  Once I’d committed the information to memory, I crumpled the paper and tossed it lightly in the air. The ghosts caught it and began playing with it, their giggles of delight filling the air and making me smile.

  Once Jonas had returned and the new RFID chip inserted into my left wrist, I said, “How am I going to get information to you? Come here?”

  Jonas hesitated. “It’s probably the best option. If they’re watching Chaos, then they’re also probably keeping an eye on anyone we deal with on a regular basis—”

  “Won’t that put Ela’s position at Deseo in jeopardy?” I cut in.

  “She’s not actually in there as herself,” Nuri said. “It’s not too hard to alter someone’s appearance with a little bit of makeup and contacts.”

  A little bit of magic didn’t hurt matters, either, I’d wager. I pushed up from the table. “I’d better get into Central and get ready for tonight.”

  “Turn off the lights near the door,” Nuri said, with a glance at Jonas. “We can’t risk someone seeing the light spill when it opens.”

  Jonas nodded and walked over to the door. Nuri grabbed my hand, preventing me from following. Energy surged, running up my arm like an electric charge. But it didn’t feel like she was attempting to read me, nor did it appear she was using magic on me, as she had done with Sharran. It was more an injection, one that made my body hum with renewed vigor. And one that, if the sudden pallor of her skin was anything to go by, left her feeling a whole lot poorer.

  “Do not waste time if you get into Winter Halo’s inner sanctum.” Her voice was soft. Distant. “Your time there will be short.”

  A chill ran through me, but before I could say anything, she blinked and released me. “But time is short all round when it comes to saving those children. Go.”

  I hesitated, then left. Jonas switched off the lights as I neared the door and then forced it open just enough for me to squeeze through.

  “Be careful,” he said. “And watch your back. Especially around Charles.”

  I paused and glanced back at him. “Why?”

  “Because his allegiances, like most of the gentry, lie with the government, and he will report any suspicions he might have about you to those in charge.”

  “If he had any suspicions, I would have sensed them.”

  “Perhaps, but as you said yourself, seeking isn’t an exact science,
even for one such as you.”

  A smile tugged my lips. “There’s nothing quite like having your own words used against you. But I’ll be careful.” I hesitated, then added, “Thanks.”

  He nodded and closed the door. I turned and hurried toward Central. I still had two hours before I needed to report to Winter Halo, but I wanted to get to Sharran’s place on Twelfth and familiarize myself with her surroundings first.

  Cat and Bear came with me. While I was generally reluctant to put them in the way of danger, they could go places in Winter Halo that I could not. And if Nuri was right—if my time there was going to be fleeting, for whatever reason—then maybe my two little ghosts could uncover the truth about the place. And that just might be the difference between rescuing the missing children and not.

  Once I reached the wall, I shifted shape to take on Sharran’s appearance and scent, then reclaimed my vampire form and surged up the wall. When the light spilling over the wall from the nearby towers began to chase the shadows away, Bear grabbed me and boosted me up the final few meters. I landed on the wall in a half crouch and quickly concealed my presence with a light shield.

  This time I headed right, closer to the drawbridge rather than away from it. Sharran’s place was a small, three-story concrete structure that would have sat in the deep shadows of the gate if this place had such things. I jumped down to its rooftop, then lowered myself over the edge and—after a deep breath to calm the irrational fears that immediately resurfaced at the thought of a three-story drop—let go. I landed in the small walkway between Sharran’s building and the next, my fingers brushing the pavement to steady myself. I quickly checked for cameras—although it was unlikely anyone would place them in a back alley like this; hell, I’d never even seen them in the main street in all the years I’d been coming to Twelfth.

  There were a couple of windows on the building to my right, but Cat and Bear—anticipating my needs—checked them. No one was watching, in either of the nearby buildings or the one directly across the street.

  I released the sun shield and strode toward Twelfth Street. Though there were plenty of people still out on the street, no one paid any attention to me. I ran up the three steps to Sharran’s apartment building, swiped my left wrist across the scanner, and then pushed the door open. The foyer inside was basic, and smelled faintly of age and mold. The flooring was some sort of plastic that squeaked underfoot and the walls a grimy gray. There was an old-fashioned tenant directory directly opposite the entrance, a metal staircase that had definitely seen better days, and two doors. Sharran’s apartment—1B—was the one on the left.

  I repeated the scanner process and entered the room—and there was only one. It held little more than a single bed, the oldest autocook I’d seen in Central so far, and a curtained-off area that turned out to be the bathroom. Above the air shower was a smallish window; I slid it open, peered out, and saw the walkway I’d just left. Which meant I had a second exit, and didn’t have to risk leaving this place via the front door in any identity other than Sharran’s.

  Her tunics and coats were hanging from a rail that had been attached to the wall to the right of her bed, and the rest of her clothes were neatly folded into the small shelf unit underneath it. I walked over and lightly sniffed some of them, double-checking that the scent I was now using did indeed match the one lingering on the material.

  Bear’s energy lightly brushed my arm. Can we explore the rest of the building?

  “Yes, but no trouble-causing.”

  Their amusement spun around me as they headed back out. I stripped, donned one of Sharran’s tunics, then reached for a matching pair of brown boots. The material in both was scratchy and somewhat unpleasant, and made me realize just how lucky I’d been to have a store filled with old uniforms in the bunker.

  Cat and Bear returned, and were decidedly unimpressed by our new abode. I grinned. “We won’t be staying here much, never fear.”

  I grabbed Sharran’s pack from the end of her bed, shoved in a coat, and then headed out again. High above me the stars were out, but I couldn’t see them thanks to the glare of the UV lights.

  I slung the pack over one shoulder and wound my way through the various walkways, heading for Sixth Street and Winter Halo. Bear scouted ahead, but Cat once again kept fairly close. Despite the excitement of new adventures, she really didn’t like Central any more than I did.

  As we approached Winter Halo, my gaze slid up its glass front and my steps slowed as trepidation surged.

  It wasn’t fear. Or, at least, it wasn’t fear for my own safety, but rather that of the missing children. Nuri had already warned that the children’s time was short. One misstep within this place, however minor, might well spell the end for them.

  And yet if I didn’t take that risk, we might never find them. Might never rescue them.

  You are not alone, Cat said. Not this time.

  No, I wasn’t. I took a deep breath, pushed away the trepidation and the glimmers of intuition that said trouble would come a-hunting, and strode toward Winter Halo.

  Chapter 8

  One of the guards stepped forward and held up a hand. “Present for ID confirmation immediately.”

  The second guard produced a scanner. I stopped, pulled up my left sleeve, and ran the RFID chip across it. She studied the screen for several seconds, then nodded and stepped out of my way.

  One barrier down. A ton to go.

  I continued on. The doors swished and light swept my length as I stepped through them. No alarms went off, so I obviously passed the bioscan.

  The foyer was a vast space that was all metal, glass, and polished concrete. There were another half a dozen guards in here, and all of them armed. Despite the current penchant for recruiting orange-haired cat shifters to be guards, four of the six here were male and, from the scents I was picking up, human. Maybe on the ground floor, they actually deferred to experience and capability rather than looks.

  I threw my pack into one of the plastic tubs, then stepped through a second scanner. This one, I knew from Sharran’s memories, checked for any sort of weapons, be they metal or glass. Once my pack had been scanned, I slung it over my shoulder and headed for the elevators. I didn’t look anyone in the eye; didn’t even glance around, as much as I wanted to. I had to keep in character, and Sharran was, unfortunately, a bit of a loner.

  “Floor,” a metallic voice said as I stepped into the elevator.

  “Three.”

  The doors closed and within seconds I was on the third floor. I paused in the bright hallway, looking right and left. This level held the changing rooms, the security monitoring section, and the personnel department. The entire floor, aside from the changing rooms that were situated in the right corner of the building, was a maze of glass partitions. There was no privacy here; not only could everyone see you, but there were security cams mounted with movement sensors on every glass corner.

  I spun on my heel and made my way through the glass corridors to the changing room. No one appeared to pay me any attention, but the cameras tracked my progress—I could hear the electronic buzz of their movements.

  No one here looks happy, Bear commented.

  No, they didn’t. But then, if the bits and pieces I’d been getting from Charles were any indication, early starts and late nights were the norm in this place. I had no idea if it was the same elsewhere in Central, but it would certainly explain the general air of malaise so evident on this floor. Long hours were not only tiring, but meant fewer chances of seeing your lover, or family, or even of having a life. It made me wonder yet again how Sal had stood living in this city. He and I might have been bred to obey, but we’d also been given the luxury of thought and emotion, as well as a love of life, even if the latter had been unintentional by our creators. The longer I spent in Central, the more it seemed to me that its people had forsaken freedom in exchange for security. And while I could un
derstand both humans and shifters making that choice, given the triple threats of vampires, Others, and rifts, Sal had been an assassin with salamander in his blood—a creature of forest and shadows. He had no need for any of this.

  But again, the choice might not have been his to make. And while I certainly had no regrets about killing him, a glimmer of sadness resurfaced. Maybe being forced to live in a city of endless light and little freedom had changed him as much as that rift.

  There were three others in the women’s changing room. Two ignored me, and the third—a tall, thin woman with a mane of black and orange hair—looked decidedly unhappy to see me.

  “You just lost me five credits.” Her voice was as tart as her expression. “I was betting you wouldn’t be back.”

  I half shrugged as I frantically searched Sharran’s memories for her name. Rae . . . no, Raedella. She and Sharran had worked together on numerous occasions, but weren’t exactly friends. The taller woman was something of a prankster . . . and Sharran’s nervous nature tended to make her the ideal target.

  I let my gaze skitter away from hers and mumbled, “Can’t afford to lose the job.”

  Raedella snorted. “That’s not what you were saying last night.”

  I had no idea what Sharran had said last night; it wasn’t in any of the memories I’d plucked from her. So I simply shrugged again and walked over to Sharran’s locker. It was a couple down from the other two women, but they didn’t even look around. And I was fine with that. The fewer people I interacted with, the less chance there was of someone sensing something out of kilter.

  I stripped, then grabbed a guard’s uniform hanging from the hook inside the locker. Not only did the almost overpowering scent of flowery musk cling to the material, but the undertones of sweat and fear did as well. Sharran had obviously changed and run last night, and had forgotten to dump the uniform in the laundry chute. My nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought of wearing it, but I had no other choice. Fresh uniforms were only provided if one was returned.