City of Light (Outcast 1)

“Seventy years, give or take.”

And we’d never met in all that time? Central was a large city, but if he’d spent most of those years working his way up from the twelfth district, I should have at least scented him before now. “How did you get around Central’s insistence that all its citizens have RFIDs?”

His gaze met mine, and there was something in them that chilled me to the core. As a déchet assassin, killing wasn’t just his job but part of his nature, and it was something I’d accepted without question. But the coldness I’d just glimpsed—it wasn’t the dispassion of a killer, it was something else altogether. Something darker. Meaner.

“When you can shape your form into any desired image,” he said, “acquiring RFIDs is not a problem.”

“Yeah, but getting rid of the body is.”

“Not really. It’s just a matter of choosing the right time and location for the kill. The vampires will take care of the rest.” A somewhat disbelieving smile teased his lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve never stolen another’s identity?”

“I can honestly say I haven’t.”

“Then how the hell have you gotten by? Most of the major population centers have insisted on RFIDs since the war.”

“I didn’t live in major cities.” I shrugged. “And did I mention I’m a very good thief?”

We turned left, onto a side street, and moved toward Second. “But you do have an RFID now, haven’t you?”

“I said I did.” I glanced around as we crossed Second Street and moved toward Third. “Where are we going? I thought we were eating in first?”

“No. Nadel could only spare half an hour, so we’re meeting him at a place on Sixth, which isn’t far from where Winter Halo is situated.”

“Is he likely to ask me many questions about the company? Because I don’t know a whole lot about it.”

“Not really. They’ll test for fitness and aptitude if he considers you an appropriate candidate, but you’re there to guard the place, nothing more.”

“So what sort of research do they do there that needs such a specific type of guard?”

He shrugged. “As I said, the owner appears to have a fetish for a certain look, but I can’t really tell you more than that.”

Won’t, not can’t, instinct whispered. The unease deep inside me was growing, but short of actually coming out and asking him why he was lying, the only way I was going to get any sort of truth was by unleashing my full seeker skills on him. And I could really only do that while we were having sex. He knew well enough what I was, and if he was holding secrets he had no desire for me to learn, he would be guarded against me. But he also had no idea how strong my seeker skills were during sex, because I’d never used them on him.

“Here we are.” He released my arm and moved his hand to my back as he guided me through a doorway and into a small foyer. It was bright and white, but there were splashes of red and gold among the white of the furniture, and a wall of rich brown wood to one side of the desk.

A petite woman with pale brown hair glanced up as we entered. “Welcome to Rubens,” she said, with a smile. “How may I help you?”

“We have a table booked under the name of Casimir,” Sal replied, his voice cool.

She checked, then said, “For three?”

“Yes.”

“This way, please.” She picked up three menus, then moved toward the wall of wood. It split apart, revealing a dining room that was not only intimate, but also surprisingly shadowed—or at least as shadowed as anything in Central seemed to get. Tables were well spaced, and the air rich with the scents of humans and shifters. Underneath all those ran the delicious notes of roasting meat. I might have eaten just over an hour ago, but it seemed my stomach was more than happy to consume more, if the somewhat noisy rumble was anything to go by.

The woman guiding us moved easily through the tables, heading toward the rear of the room. As we followed her, another scent teased my nostrils—a scent that was deep forests, dark satin, and, oddly corrupted. Sal’s scent. Except it was coming from up ahead, not behind.

I stopped so abruptly Sal ran into me, and would have sent me flying if he hadn’t immediately grabbed me.

“What’s wrong?” His grip on my arms was almost too firm.

“Nothing.” My gaze roamed the rear shadows, but the scent had faded almost as quickly as it had appeared, and it was now impossible to pin down where it might have come from. Who it might have come from. Maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe the air-conditioning had simply caught Sal’s scent and made it appear as if it had come from the front rather than from behind.

“Then why did you stop?”

I hesitated as instinct warned me not to say anything. “Sorry.” I glanced back at him and smiled. “I just caught a whiff of roast. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything that smells that good.”

“Your thieving skills are severely lacking if the mere smell of roasted meat can stop you so abruptly.”