City of Light (Outcast 1)

I scanned the haphazard signage as we passed each offshoot lane or walkway, and eventually found the one we wanted. It was little more than a three-feet-wide path that wove through a mess of houses—each one little more than a ten-feet-wide collection of scavenged wood, steel, and plastic—and whose owners lounged against the outer wall, smoking and drinking. Every one of them was armed. Run Turk Alley was, as I’d heard, mercenary central.

I shifted my grip on Jonas, freeing a hand without making it too obvious I was ready to reach for a weapon. We headed down, weaving our way through a sea of rubbish, stares, and outstretched feet. No one stopped us or said anything, but they didn’t move out of our way, either. I stumbled more than once, wrenching my already screaming back and leg muscles as I struggled to remain upright.

Eventually, I saw a small sign that simply read NURI’S. While it was just another wood-and-metal building coated with years of grime, graffiti, and advertising posters, it was three times the size of the others in this street. It also had several windows, all of which were barred—a necessity in this area, no doubt.

Penny squeezed past me and ran ahead to open the door. I followed her into the brightly lit confines and was almost immediately hit by the stink of alcohol. But a more surprising—and dangerous—scent closely followed. There were shifters in this place.

While it was highly unlikely any of them realized what I was, I couldn’t help the instinctive need to retreat. I could fight—all déchet could, even those of us who had been trained in the art of seduction. But the war had been a long time ago, and fighting had never been my main skill set. There were far too many shifters in this bar for me to have a chance of survival should they decide to attack.

I stopped several feet in from the door and transferred Jonas to a sturdy-looking table. Then I scanned the room. The woman standing behind the bar was human, and the shifters were all seated at one of the tables crowding the far end of the small room. There were a half dozen of them—four men and two women—and all looked to be in fighting condition. It was an impression amplified by the many weapons strapped to their bodies.

Relax, I told myself silently. Breathe.

But my heart still raced, and my fingers itched with the need to reach for a weapon. I resisted the urge and remained where I was, emoting a calm I certainly didn’t feel. Cat and Bear crowded close, their energy stinging my skin, making it twitch.

“Jesus H. Christ!” the woman at the bar said, her abrupt comment cutting through the thick silence and making me jump. “What the hell happened to Jonas?”

She strode out of the gloom, a tea towel that had seen better days slung over one shoulder. She was short and fat, with rosy cheeks and wiry, steel gray hair that ballooned around her head like a sea of slender, twisting snakes.

She didn’t look the least bit menacing and, for that reason alone, I very much suspected she was the most dangerous person in the room. In fact, the force of her energy electrified the air, so that she appeared surrounded by a halo of flickering, fiery blue.

“According to Penny, Jonas has been poisoned,” I said, when it became obvious Penny wasn’t going to answer. “I was advised to bring him here.”

Her gaze pinned mine and, in the brown depths, I saw sharp intellect and great power. This was Nuri; of that I had no doubt.

“And who the hell are you?” While her voice was still brusque, her touch was gentle as she gripped Jonas’s cheeks and studied him intently.

“No one important.”

“Well, no one important,” she said, her gaze still on the ranger though I had no doubt she was very aware of my every move. “Would you like to tell us how you came to be in a position to help these two? I suspect there’s a bit of a story behind it.”

I shrugged, my gaze flicking to the watching shifters. Their attention hadn’t wavered, and their hands were resting a little closer to their guns. My tension ramped another notch, as did the caress of power from my two ghostly guards.

We needed to get out of here before this situation became nasty. These people were too alert, too ready for action. It was almost as if they’d been expecting us.

“She rescued us,” Penny piped up. “From the vampires.”

The woman looked up at that. Her gaze swept down my length, then came up to rest on my face again. It felt like she was clawing away the layers of skin and seei

ng exactly what I was.

“And just how many vampires are we talking about?”

“Not many,” I said, at the same time that Penny said, “At least a score.”

“It might have seemed that way, but honestly, it wasn’t.” I forced a smile. “And now that these two are safe, I really have to go.”

The ghosts flung themselves around me, urging me to hurry, needing, wanting to leave as much as I did. I took a step back. No one moved to stop me. The old woman continued to study me, seeing too much, suspecting too much.

“At least tell us your name,” she said, “so that we may say a prayer for you over dinner tonight.”

“Her name is Tiger,” Penny said, and, with all the innocence of a child, added, “She’s a déchet.”

My gaze snapped to her. How the hell . . . ? But the rest of the thought was snatched away as energy exploded around me. It came from the woman, from the shifters, and, more dangerously, from my little guards.

“No,” I said, and flung out a hand, snatching back the power Cat had already begun to discharge. Then something pricked the side of my neck and the world went dark.

Chapter 3