I gathered the spent weapons and placed them all back in the rucksack, then climbed out. I might have an armory at my disposal, but there was only a finite amount of weapons within it. I couldn’t afford to keep discarding them.
Jonas’s shoulders twitched as my feet hit the tarmac, but he still refused to look at me. I shouldered the rucksack into a more comfortable position, then headed for Central. I had to get back to the bunker. The little ones would be worried about me, and I needed to be there in case the vampires hit it again. Ghosts might be dangerous, but they could only do so much before their energy faded. If the vampires attacked with the ferocity they’d shown when trying to stop the ATV, then Rhea only knows what would happen. And an attack was very possible given the vampires would undoubtedly inform Sal and his partners not only of the presence of a déchet in that place, but our consequent escape . . . I stopped abruptly and swore.
The minute Sal heard about the attack, he would come looking for me. If I couldn’t be found in Central, then he would know, for certain, that I was the one infiltrating their bases. To have any hope of finding the missing children, Sal and his partners needed to remain uncertain about me.
“What?” Jonas’s voice was harsh.
I turned around. He still wasn’t looking at me. There were bloody rents down his powerful arms and a myriad of minor cuts everywhere else, but all in all, he’d come out of the attack far better than I had. “I need to get into Central—fast.”
“The drawbridge is up; there is no getting in there at night.”
“For you and the vampires, maybe.” I dropped the rucksack to the ground. “Take that back to the bunker for me. Nuri is there, as is Branna.”
“What the hell are they doing there?” His gaze finally met mine. All I could see were old prejudices and hatred.
“Branna was dying. They came to use the medibeds.”
“And you let them?” Disbelief edged his tone.
“I healed you knowing what you were—why would I not heal Branna?”
“Because you’re déc
het—and he tried to kill you.”
And Jonas was never going to get past my heritage. Sadness slithered through me. The fierceness of our attraction suggested we could have been good together, at least physically. Anything else—anything more—was beyond the realm of possibility for someone like me.
“I am not a monster, Jonas, no matter what the history books would have you believe.”
“It’s not just history that gives rise to that belief—it’s firsthand experience. There are still some alive today who took part in the war.”
“Yes, and I’m one of them. Shifters are responsible for just as many atrocities as humans and déchet. It was a war; right or wrong, these things happen.” I studied him for a heartbeat. It was useless arguing with him. His mindset was never going to change. “I have to go—”
“Why?”
“Because the minute they hear of the attack, they’ll come looking for me. I need to be found.”
He frowned. “What does it matter when you can change form at will?”
“Sal won’t take action against me until he’s absolutely certain I’m involved.”
Which was a lie. There was no true emotion in Sal, and I knew full well he would kill me if he in any way suspected my part in breaking Jonas out. But he’d at least question me first—and therein lay my chance. I was a lure, and I’d been bred to resist all manner of drugs and poisons. If that was one of the many things that had been erased from his memories when the rift had hit him, then I could twist the situation to my advantage.
It would be dangerous, but to save the lives of innocents, I had to at least try.
“Protect my home, Jonas,” I added. “It is the very least you can do, given I’ve now saved your life twice.”
And with that, I called to the darkness and became one with the night. Though I was bone weary and wanted nothing more than to collapse in a bloody heap, I drew on every scrap of energy I had left and headed for Central with as much speed as I could muster.
Thankfully, this form didn’t have the limitations of my flesh form, and it took a little over fifteen minutes to get close to the bunker.
I sent a message to Cat and Bear, asking them to bring out washcloths, fresh clothing, and one of the purple vials still kept in the freezer units of the main med center. Then I reclaimed flesh form and collapsed in a quivering, aching heap in the trees behind the museum. As much as the need to keep moving—to get into Central before Sal or his partners came looking—burned through me, I couldn’t. Not in this state. I needed to repair my body and erase most of my wounds before that happened. One or two I could explain away, but not a multitude.
I pulled myself into a sitting position and reached for the healing state. Eventually, the waves of pain began to fade away as calm descended and the healing began. It took longer than I might have wished, but it had to be done.
When I finally opened my eyes, Cat and Bear were waiting patiently. The cloths, my tunic and sandals, and the vial I’d asked for were sitting in front of my crossed legs.
I smiled and sent them mental kisses, but their relief at seeing me was tinged with concern. They knew what I was about to do; they knew it was dangerous.