She hesitated. “Chang Puk district.”
Which wasn’t overly helpful given how little I knew about Chaos and its districts. “What level is that?”
“Five.”
So midlevel. Which meant it was more than likely this Nuri had some standing. In Chaos, the higher the level you lived on, the more power or wealth you had. It was the same in Central, except that it was the city’s heart—and the safety that came with being as far away from the walls as was possible—that drew the wealthy. “Where on five?”
Rather unhelpfully, she shrugged.
Irritation surged, but I forced it aside. She was only a child, even if she did sometimes seem far older. “We can’t just wander around, Penny. That would be dangerous.”
And make us a target. If you didn’t move with purpose through the various levels, you were inviting trouble from the gangs and thugs who ran a good portion of the place.
Her gaze drifted to Jonas and her expression became distant yet oddly intent. After a moment, she said, “Nuri lives in Run Turk Alley.”
Which was the mercenary district, as far as I knew. In some ways that was better than the upper levels, where the whores, gang leaders, and drug kingpins lived. At least I had a chance of blending in with the mercenaries. Even though I’d been bred to infiltrate and seduce, I would never have passed as a whore. There was a coarseness—a rapacity—in the ladies who traded their wares within Chaos that I doubted I could achieve or fake.
I shifted Jonas’s weight to a more comfortable position, then resignedly moved forward. There were only two entrances into Chaos—this south one, and the other at the far north end. A single roadway that followed the sweep of the curtain wall connected the two, but there were a myriad of lanes and footpaths branching off this main artery, as well as a slew of stairs and ladders that connected the various levels.
Penny trailed behind me, as did the two ghosts. Their thoughts were a mix of excitement and dread, and I had no doubt there would be lo
ts of stories shared and embellished with those who’d remained behind. Penny’s expression gave away little, which again struck me as odd. Given she’d never been to this place before, I would have expected at least a little fear. Chaos was not exactly the most welcoming of places to look at.
As we neared the little footbridge that crossed the two-feet-wide remnant of what once had been the main water source for Central’s founders, the air began to shimmer and spark. The energy that caressed my skin was dark and unhealthy in feel, and unease crawled through me. Though this rift hadn’t moved in years, that didn’t mean it couldn’t or wouldn’t explode into action.
Didn’t mean something couldn’t or wouldn’t come through it, despite the growing strength of daylight.
I’d seen some of those things. I had no desire to fight them.
I increased my pace, and Penny trotted along after me, seemingly oblivious to the danger that waited not very far away. But then, few humans or shifters could actually see them. It seemed to be something only those who were either psychically or magically gifted could do.
The day was growing brighter, casting splashes of red and gold across the silver curtain wall. Or, at least, along the flat front of it. There was little enough silver visible across the rest of it for dawn to paint, covered as it was by Chaos.
We strode up the hill toward the six-feet-wide gap that was the south entrance. On either side were the garishly decorated metal containers that made up much of Chaos’s ground level, and which supported the weight of everything above it. There were no windows or ventilation slots cut into any of these; they were basically little more than metal boxes that were used as shops, factories, and trading posts, and they found life only once the sun was up. The inhabitants of Chaos might show little concern about the vampires, but they didn’t invite trouble, either. When dusk came, those who worked here retreated to at least the next level, and all ladders and stairs were either drawn up or locked down. It didn’t often help, but the illusion of safety was better than nothing, I suppose.
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.