“Ten.”
The elevator zoomed up. The first thing that struck me when the doors opened again was the hush. Not that the third floor had, in any way, been rowdy, but there’d at least been the murmur of conversations, the whir of cameras, and the electric buzz of the various other machines on the floor.
None of that was here; even the air con was silent, though a light breeze played with the ends of my hair, so it was obviously on.
I headed left. The lights were harsher—brighter—up here, but that was no surprise if there was someone using a light screen to hide him- or herself. Lights with this sort of output would definitely make shielding easier. It was also a whole lot colder up here, but given this floor supposedly had a lot of laboratories, it once again wasn’t all that surprising. The temperature in all the military labs I’d been into had always been set several degrees lower than what I would have called comfortable, though no one had ever explained why. Maybe they’d simply wanted to ensure that no one fell asleep on the job.
Cat, Bear, do you want to have a look around the floor? See if there’s anyone else here?
They raced off. I continued walking down the hall, heading for the security office at the north end of the building. Which was an odd place for it in my opinion. Surely it would have been better positioned closer to both the elevators and the emergency exits, so that they could get to either faster if there was a problem?
A woman looked around as I entered the small office; she was short, round, with spiky orange hair and long, sharp nails. There was nothing in Sharran’s memories to give me any idea who she was.
“Sharran,” she said, voice neutral, flat. Not the friendliest of souls, obviously. “I’m surprised to see you after the fuss you raised last night.”
“Need the job.” I sat down at the spare console and scanned myself in. Light screens flared to life in front of me, a checkerboard pattern of various-sized laboratories that were as empty as the halls. If they were doing any ongoing testing within those rooms, then it certainly wasn’t evident. “Besides, it might be your turn tonight; let’s see how calm you are when some bastard dry-humps you.”
Surprise flitted across her features. I cursed inwardly. Sharran the mouse wouldn’t have bitten back like that.
“I’m thinking the ghosts have no taste for me,” she said. “Been on this floor many a time, and have never been attacked.”
“Until last night, I was saying the same thing,” I muttered, and ducked my gaze away from hers.
She continued to study me, her stare a weight I could feel. But after a few seconds, she returned her attention to the screens in front of her. I did the same. Not that there was anything to see; Kendra had been right. This was a cushy job.
Cat and Bear returned; the floor was as empty as it appeared on the screen. I frowned, wondering why when everyone else who worked at Winter Halo seemed to be doing long, long hours. It wasn’t as if the labs were old or in need of refurbishing—not if the equipment I was seeing on the screens was anything to go by.
Time drifted by with agonizing slowness. My spiky-haired companion did the first hourly check, and I did the second. My body practically hummed with tension as I walked through the various corridors, checking that doors were locked and the labs still empty. Nothing happened. Not then, and not for the next six hours.
Maybe Sharran hadn’t passed the psychic “sniff” test—if that was indeed what the first assault was all about.
One of the movement sensors on a subscreen flashed red. I leaned and switched the screen to full-size. The alarm had come from the lobby area, but there was no one there. No one the cameras could pick up, anyway.
“Problem?” My companion leaned sideways on her chair and studied my screen.
“Probably nothing,” I said, even as intuition was whispering that this was it. This was when the attack would happen. “But I’d better go check.”
“Yeah. You might as well do the rest of the floor while you’re at it. I’ll take the final one.”
I nodded and rose. Cat and Bear danced around me, excited by the prospect of action—only that wasn’t on our agenda right now. None of us could react in any way, simply because Sharran wouldn’t have done so.
Bear’s energy touched mine. But if there is a light shield in use, Cat and I will be able to see past it. That will help, won’t it?
Yes. If nothing else, it would confirm whether the person behind these attacks was the same person Sal had reported to—and argued with—the time both Cat and Bear followed him into this place.
I strode down the hall, one hand on the butt of the Taser, even though I didn’t expect to get the chance to use it. As I neared the lobby entrance, energy and awareness trailed across my skin. It wasn’t the ghosts; the energy was too sharp, too bright. Behind it was the scent of deep forests, dark satin, and something else. Something unexpected and icy. Sal’s scent, but also the scent of the person who’d watched us when we went to the restaurant to meet Keller.
Remember, I said to my two little companions, no reaction, no matter what happens.
Cat’s energy touched mine. But if he hurts you?
I’ll be okay. They need me. This is all about them getting blood and me getting into the upper levels. Nothing else matters right now.
She wasn’t happy, but both she and Bear promised to behave. I drew in a breath, tasting that familiar and yet alien scent once again, then brushed my left wrist across the scanner and entered the foyer. As I did, something sharp pricked the back of my neck. Dart, I thought, even as I instinctively brushed a hand upward. Only there was no dart. I frowned; then dizziness hit and I stumbled, my knees buckling slightly as an odd warmth began to flood down my spine.
Whatever I’d been hit with, it was fast-acting. But what scared me was the fact that I was reacting to it. I was a lure, designed to be immune to all known drugs and poisons. Even those that did affect me did so long after the drug would have killed anyone else—it gave me time to do my job, escape, and then take the cure. But I’d been created a long time ago, and this drug, whatever it was, had obviously been developed in the years after the war. I had no immunity to it. None at all.
I stumbled to the wall and tried to remain upright. But my legs gave way and I found myself on my knees. Everything was spinning, and an odd buzzing seemed to fill my ears—I couldn’t hear, could barely see, and my breath was short, sharp pants of air. No wonder Kendra had quit; I’d been expecting this attack, but it nevertheless scared the hell out of