City of Light (Outcast 1)

Grimacing, I grabbed one of the towels and the flowery-smelling soap, and cleaned myself up. Then I dunked my head into the bowl, scrubbing my short hair, freeing as much of the gunk as I could, even as I wished I was back at the bunker and in one of the hydro pods.

The tunic Nuri had left for me was full-length, and made of a soft gray wool. It was V-necked and split to the thigh along one side to allow easier movement. I’d worn this type of garment many times in the various camps I’d been assigned to during the war, and knew from experience they were not only extremely comfortable, but also sexy, as the flowing nature of them accentuated rather than hid curves. It was the sort of garment I could easily wear to meet Sal tonight, and couldn’t help wondering if I’d been given it for that very reason. There was a pair of leather sandals with the dress, and they also fit perfectly.

I glanced at a mirror and frowned at my reflection. As much as I rather liked the startling contrast of white and black stripes in my hair, I’d seen no tiger shifters in Central for a while, which meant I’d stand out a little too much in that place. And given I needed to be orange if I were to have any hope of getting the job at Winter Halo, maybe it would be better if I started wearing that form to get comfortable with it. I pictured what I wanted in my mind, then reached for the shifter magic. It swept through me, fierce and fast, and in very little time the stripes were replaced by orange and my naturally lean form was a little more curvaceous.

Which meant it was time to go downstairs and face Nuri and her crew. I slung the hessian bag holding my weapons over my shoulder, took a deep, steadying breath, then said, “Let’s go get this over with.”

Bear whipped around me, excited we were on the move again, and headed out. Cat, as usual, stayed close, though there was little in the way of concern in her energy.

Jonas waited in the corridor beyond our door. His muscular arms were crossed and he leaned one shoulder against the opposite wall, his stance casual yet oddly guarded. His dark hair was damp, and he smelled fresh, clean, and wild. His gaze swept down my length, a leisurely caress that sent delight skittering across my skin. Desire stirred, its scent stinging the air, his and mine combined. But when his gaze finally rose, there was little of that heat evident in either his expression or his eyes. This man might want me, but he still didn’t trust me, and that, right now, held greater sway over his actions. His restraint should have pleased me—he was a ranger, after all. The war had been a long time ago, but it seemed that—for him—it might well have been only yesterday. I had no doubt sex with Jonas would be good, but it would also, given that hate, be dangerous. It would take only one tiny slip on my part, and that would be the end of me. And yet I also knew that none of it would have made any difference had he shown an inclination to act on desire.

But then, I’d been bred to seduce shapeshifters such as he—shifters who were not just warriors, but leaders. Jonas might not be in control of this little lot, but I had a suspicion he could have been. That once upon a time, he had been. Maybe not of this group, but another. There was just something in the way he moved, something in the way he reacted, that reminded me of the shifters who’d been my targets so long ago.

“This way,” he said, and pushed away from the wall.

I followed his easy strides along the short corridor, then down a set of stairs. The room we entered was the small one I’d seen when linked to Bear the first time I’d been in this place—the one with the small electric stove and half a dozen motley-looking chairs. Only one of those was currently occupied—unfortunately by Branna, the thickset, golden-haired man who’d darted me with Iruakandji. I flared my nostrils as I neared him, drawing his scent. It was sharper—dryer—than Jonas’s, reminding me more of grass and sand rather than the wildness of storms.

His golden gaze swept me, enticing little in the way of reaction, then lifted, lingering longest on my hair. He didn’t say anything; he simply rose and walked to the other side of the room, as far away from me as was possible without actually leaving. Where he could watch, and react if needed, I very much suspected.

Bear, you want to keep an eye on him? He’d already acted once without thinking—I had no doubt he’d do it again if I so much as twitched the wrong way. It was a somewhat common occurrence among male lion shifters, who tended to be fiercely protective of friends and family. Bear whisked off to stalk the grim-faced Branna, but Cat stayed close.

“Stew?” Nuri asked, holding a metal spoon over the divine-smelling pot of meat and vegetables.

“Definitely,” Jonas said. He grabbed the bowl she offered him and headed for the small table tucked behind the stove.

“Tiger?” Nuri glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. I had no doubt she’d noted the change of color, but she made no mention of it. But then, Jonas had no doubt informed her I was a body shifter, so it wouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“Yes, thanks.” I tried not to sound like I hadn’t eaten fresh meat for the best part of a year. Stealing fruit and veg was one thing, but meat was expensive and not so easily snatched. And wildlife was rare in the park these days, thanks to the vampires. Jerky—my main meat source—was definitely a poor substitute.

She handed me a large bowl, and I followed Jonas to the table. It had been set for four, and there was a large loaf of bread sitting in the center.

I slung my bag over the back of the chair opposite Jonas and sat down. Nuri sat to my right. Branna stayed right where he was. Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Or maybe Nuri thought putting him in close quarters to me wasn’t such a good idea, and had ordered him on watch.

“So,” I said, figuring I might as well get the conversation happening, “what did you make of the magic that lies within that crater?”

Nuri picked up her spoon and ate some stew, considering me as she munched. “It is unlike any magic I have come across before.”

I scooped up some of the stew, and briefly closed my eyes in utter enjoyment.

Amusement crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Good, huh?”

“The best stew I’ve tasted in years.” Hel

l, it was the best stew I’d tasted since the war, but I couldn’t exactly say that. “So the magic is wraith in origin?”

Nuri slid the bread across to me. “No, it’s not, though there are parts of it that definitely have their feel.”

I tore off a chunk of bread, then pushed the loaf over to Jonas. “Meaning what? That the wraiths have learned our magic?”

“No, rather the other way around. Someone here has learned theirs.”

I frowned. “How is that even possible? The wraiths don’t speak our language, nor do they hang about long enough to learn it. They just appear, kill, and leave.”

“That is the truth as far as anyone is aware,” Nuri said. “But that doesn’t mean things haven’t changed.”

“Something certainly has,” Jonas commented. “The mere fact the wraiths are getting into Central to steal children is evidence enough of that.”

“They could be coming through that rift I found in Deseo’s basement. It may not be a direct line from their world into ours, but there are plenty of rifts in Carleen. At least some of them would have to be active entry points for the wraiths.”