Winter Halo (Outcast 2)

You’ve obviously forgotten the past hundred years. It’s only in the last couple of weeks that things have gotten exciting.

Yes. Her mental tones were wistful. I will miss them all when they leave.

So will I. So much so that I didn’t even want to think about it. Jonas might have said he wanted to pursue the attraction, but that didn’t mean he intended to stick around once he had done so. Cats were not by nature monogamous, even if those who lived in the cities tended to stick by the same one or two mates. But that, I suspe

cted, was more due to the lack of choice than any real desire to remain faithful to one person.

Not that I wanted monogamy so much as company that was real rather than ghostly.

I closed my eyes and dropped fully into the healing state. I could still hear, though, even if I couldn’t see. Not that it meant all that much; if Janice Harvey was moving about, then she was quieter than a ghost. Time seemed to stretch as I chased down the drug in my veins and carefully erased its coldness and its effects from my system.

“Righto, gentlemen,” Harvey eventually said. “You can come retrieve your prize.”

Had I not been in the trancelike healing state, the sudden sound of her voice in the void of silence would have made me jump. I pushed myself back to consciousness but kept my eyes firmly closed and my body loose. Relaxed.

One of the men snorted. “She’s hardly a prize. She’s all skin and damn bone.”

“But skin and bone that might well hold the remaining key. Dump her in cell six. I’ll inform lab two she’s in. And no playing, remember?”

“I’ve got better taste than this.”

Hands grabbed me, their grip bruising as they hauled me upright. With little ceremony, I was dragged out of the room.

Bear? Where are we going?

His energy whipped through me, creating the light connection that allowed me to see through his eyes. We continued on down the shorter corridor. The door at the end opened as we approached, revealing a T-intersection. Bear surged through the doorway and stopped in the middle of the T. To the left and the right were dozens of doors; each one, I suspected, would lead into a small laboratory.

The dissection rooms are situated on the other side of the building, Cat said. That is where Sal is.

And the holding cells?

To the right.

There were six in total. All of them were opened. All of them were empty.

Do you want to find out what’s happened to the women, Cat? I knew deep down that they’d probably be in the dissection rooms, but part of me couldn’t help hoping I was wrong. That they were simply undergoing a final check of some sort, and were safe and whole. Saving them might not be a priority, but I would if I could. Having them in the cells rather than on tables gave them a better chance. But if they were on the tables . . .

I shut the thought off, not wanting to think about it. Not yet.

The two men took me into the end cell on the left and dumped me facedown onto the single bunk. One adjusted my position so that I was in no danger of suffocating, then followed the other man out the door.

As the sound of their footsteps faded, I said, Bear, spin slowly around so I can see what’s in the room.

He obeyed. It was little more than a two-by-two-meter square that was barely big enough for the bed. There was nothing else in the room except for the camera perched squarely in one corner, aimed right at the bed. I couldn’t do anything until that was taken care of.

I can short-circuit it, Bear suggested.

Good idea. But start with the other cells first. We don’t want suspicions raised.

As he broke our connection, then raced off, Cat returned. The women are in the dissection rooms. Her mental tones were solemn. They are being connected to the machines that will keep their flesh alive.

So they’re still alive?

At this point, yes.

Which meant if I wanted any hope of stopping the procedure and giving them a chance, I would have to act quickly.

Bear returned and sparks flew as the camera short-circuited. A few seconds later came the sound of running steps.