City of Light (Outcast 1)

I blew out a breath, glanced at the screen, then closed my eyes and said, “Okay, but we can’t go now. We have to wait until the morning.”

“But—”

“Penny,” I said, gently but firmly. “The night belongs to the vampires, and we’ll all die if we go out there now. We’ll just have to hope he hangs on until tomorrow.”

Besides, there was no way I was going into Chaos at night. In that place, vampires certainly weren’t the biggest threat to life.

Her bottom lip quivered, but no tears filled her eyes. Maybe she couldn’t cry. Maybe she was all out of tears.

“Can I stay here with him?”

“Yes.” I picked her up and sat her on the next bed. “Snuggle down, little one. The bed will keep you warm, and the ghosts will keep you company.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to check how the system is holding up against the vampires. I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded and lay down. Her eyes drifted closed and, within minutes, she was asleep. I glanced up at the light screen. Her core temperature was low, but everything else seemed to be okay. I pressed a button, setting the machine to do a full scan, then turned and headed out. Bear and Cat came with me; the others stayed behind, happily gossiping with one another. After so many years of just having me to talk to and about, I thought wryly, this had to be the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them.

I didn’t immediately go check the system, however. I headed instead down to the ninth level—the level where, in the long years immediately after this place had been cleansed, I’d taken what little remained of everyone who’d died here. The ghosts of the adult déchet had followed their bones, but the humans who’d died here had not, and I had no idea where they’d gone. I knew humans believed that while most souls moved on after death, a person who’d been taken before their time could not. Did that mean everyone other than Hank—who was the only human ghost I’d seen over the years—had moved on? I didn’t know—and, to be honest, had no real desire to find out. I might owe humanity for my existence, but I certainly owed them nothing else.

The farther down I went, the closer I got to them, the more their anger grew. They were well aware of just who I’d brought into our home.

I took a deep breath and said, “I apologize for bringing our foe into your midst, but he will not be here long. He saved the young child’s life, and you cannot harm him in any way.”

The only response was a sharpening of the anger. It crawled across my skin like fire, burning where it touched. And while I could—through physical contact with their energy—see and talk to these déchet as I might the living, I wasn’t about to tempt fate that way. Of course, they might not give me an option.

“I know you’re unhappy, but I had no choice. And the war is long ended.”

Energy surged across my skin, creating a fleeting connection that was intense and filled with hate.

It will never be over for us, a deep voice said. We were soldiers, created to kill, and death has not ended that directive.

“But you cannot kill without orders.” And even as I said it, I crossed mental fingers, because I really had no idea if that was true one hundred years down the track.

And that, came the harsh reply, is the only reason the ranger still lives.

Relief spun through me. At least that meant they were one less problem I had to worry about.

I would not, however, the voice added, bring him down here. Directives and conditioning have been known to fail.

And with that warning ringing in my ears, the connection died and the ghosts left. I retreated.

A check upstairs revealed the remaining vampires still prowled around the building, looking for a way in. While that was not unusual, there was an intensity to their movements that was troubling. It was almost as if they were being ordered to do so—and yet, I’d never heard or seen any evidence that vampire society had any sort of hierarchy.

I cleaned up the mess I’d made in the museum area, then patrolled the rest of the complex out of habit. Once I was sure everything was secure and the system was working fine, I headed down to the bunk room, where I gave myself a booster shot against whatever viruses and infections the vamps’ claws and teeth might have held. It was something I really didn’t need, but taking it at least took the stress off my body’s self-healing properties. By the time I’d had a shower and changed my clothes, a couple of hours had slipped past. Penny was still asleep, but the ranger stirred, his lean, muscular body bathed in sweat as he unconsciously fought the restraints holding him in place. A glance at the light screen confirmed his core temperature was rising.

I downgraded the bed’s temp setting, then introduced a strong sedative. He calmed almost instantly, but his brain activity remained high, and his core temp wasn’t going down. That wasn’t good, especially when the machine wasn’t picking up a reason. But then, these machines were old. Who knew what sort of poisons the world had developed since their creation?

Frowning, I turned around and studied Penny’s results. Even after the full scan, there didn’t appear to be anything unusual other than a lower than normal core temp. So why did I still have a gut feeling that all was not well?

Maybe it was just the guilt. Maybe I would never be able to look at a child in trouble and not be certain there had to be something more I could do to help.

Cat drifted into my vision. Ghostly palms gently cupped my face as her energy ran through me, full of reassurance. I smiled and kissed her fingertips, feeling the warmth in them and half wishing they could once again hold flesh. But that, too, was something that was never going to be.

I blew out a breath, half-annoyed at the sudden wash of melancholy, and walked across to the chairs near the door. Here I perched, keeping an eye on both of the monitors as the long night rolled slowly by.

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