I sat cross-legged in the middle of my bunk and patted the blanket on either side of me. “Tell me what he did.”
Their images began to flow through my mind. Sal hadn’t immediately left Hedone after he’d bundled me out the door, but had instead gotten back on the com unit and made a rather long phone call.
“To whom?” I cut in. “Did you catch a name?”
Cat’s energy ran across my skin, briefly connecting us on a more direct level. No, she said, her voice soft and sweet, we didn’t get close, in case he sensed us. But it was a woman.
Meaning it was more than likely the woman who’d been caught in that rift with him. “Thanks, Cat.”
Her energy retreated, and the images ran on. After the long conversation with the woman, Sal changed and headed downstairs to Hedone, spending several hours doing paperwork and talking to customers and personnel.
It wasn’t until the early afternoon that he’d left and walked directly to a glass-fronted, ten-story building. The name Winter Halo flashed into my mind, and I swore and briefly closed my eyes. Despite everything, part of me had hoped I’d been wrong, that he wasn’t involved, that he and I could go on as we always had, as friends and lovers.
But I guess surviving the war and remaining undiscovered was all the good luck the goddess Rhea was going to extend my way.
“Did he see anyone while he was in there? Talk to anyone?”
The image of a tall, thin-faced man with dark hair, shadowed skin, and oddly magnetic blue eyes flashed into my mind. With it came a thick sensation of uneasiness. My ghosts hadn’t liked this stranger’s feel or presence.
“Why?” I asked. “What was it about him you found so unsavory?”
This time it was Bear who touched my skin and formed a deeper connection. No surprise there, given the toll it took on them to initiate contact like this. My initiating it—as I had when I’d talked to the Carleen ghosts—drained me, not them, though why it worked that way I had no idea.
He feels strange. Bear’s voice broke slightly, a physical sign of puberty and one he was eternally stuck in.
Like a vampire feels strange?
No. Vampires feel like the dead. This was . . . He hesitated, and I felt his mental shrug. Alien. It was almost as if he didn’t belong in our world.
Jonas had said that the darkness I’d seen in Sal’s mind—the one that had caught all four people and forever changed them—had been a rift. And while some rifts simply did nothing more than rip apart anyone or anything unfortunate enough to get in their way, many were gateways by which the Others entered our world.
And Jonas had also said that Sal’s scent had undertones that reminded him a little of those creatures.
Which more than likely meant I’d guessed right—the fourth person I’d seen had been one of the Others. It would also explain why they’d killed him so quickly. But it meant Sal now had that creature’s DNA in him, and surely to Rhea I would have sensed a change as big as that.
Or would I?
Over one hundred years had passed since I’d last seen him, and that was more than time enough for memories to become rose-colored and unreliable.
Bear’s touch retreated, and the images resumed. Whoever Sal had seen inside Winter Halo had not been happy. Neither of the ghosts had been close enough to catch the conversation, but the other man had certainly been animated. On body language alone, it looked like he’d been laying down some ground rules, and that meant Sal wasn’t in charge—not if what I was now seeing was any indication. But why would he be, when we’d been bred to follow rules rather than give them? He may now run several successful brothels, but that didn’t mean he’d entirely escaped his DNA programming—even if it was programming those other two people now shared.
When Sal finally left Winter Halo, he didn’t—as I’d half expected—return to Hedone, but had instead headed straight down Victory Street, away from the first district and toward the twelfth. I had a bad feeling I knew exactly where he’d gone, and the very next image proved me right.
I closed my eyes for a moment and swore softly. Cat’s energy patted my arm, offering sympathy even though I doubted she really understood my anger.
The images rolled on. Sal, heading into Deseo, walking unchallenged through the establishment and down into the basement. He punched a code into the newly fixed security control panel, walked down the steps, and disappeared into the false rift.
&
nbsp; There really was no doubt now. Sal was involved with whatever was happening to the children.
“Cat and Bear, you did a great job,” I said. “Thank you very much.”
Their pleasure at being able to help was so strong I could almost see their smiles. They danced about me, eager to repeat their adventure tomorrow.
“Maybe,” I said, “but the first thing we’ll do tomorrow is head to Carleen. We need to find out what Sal was doing, or where he went from there.”
Bear’s energy settled against my skin again, briefly renewing that stronger connection. Why not tonight? Tomorrow gives him too much time to escape.