Tempting Evil (21 page)

“Any attempt to rescue that child could be dangerous.”

“I know that. I have to try, though.”

He smiled. “I know that. Just don’t attempt it too soon, or the whole mission could fall down around our ears.”

I glanced around to ensure there still wasn’t anyone within listening range. “That might still happen given certain time frames have been upped.”

“Yeah, Jack mentioned that. Give me a hand up, and we’ll talk as you help me to my quarters.”

I rose and offered him my hand. “Have the medics seen you?”

“One of the lab boys declared I was fit enough to move. I’ve been ordered to clean up and get back to work within the hour.”

He grabbed my hand. I hauled him easily to his feet, then tucked a shoulder under his and wrapped my arm around his waist. He didn’t need the extra support—I could feel the strength in him and he wasn’t the least bit shaky—but at least this way we could talk softly and take our time without raising suspicions in unwanted areas. “Nice of them to give you an hour.”

“Yeah, they’re all heart.” His voice was dry. “So, what’s been happening to you?”

“I’ve touched base with Merle, and learned I can read his thoughts.”

“And?”

“And I now understand what you were trying to say when you asked me if I knew what I was doing.”

He blew out a breath, and the sudden anguish that briefly flared in his eyes gave me some idea of what he’d been feeling over the last twenty-four hours. And it sure as hell was worse than anything I’d actually been going through. I hugged him close for a moment, letting him know without words that I was okay, that it wasn’t really as bad as he’d been imagining.

“It’s never pleasant the first time.”

“Does it get any easier the twentieth? Fiftieth?”

“Yes, because we are wolves and sex is as important to us as air itself. You’ll learn to switch off and just enjoy the moment, if not the person.” His gaze met mine. “But that’s easy for me to say when I’m not psychic and cannot ever feel things as deeply—or as intimately—as you do.”

Some of the tension that had been with me for hours slithered away. He understood
exactly
what I was feeling, without my having to say a word. But then, if my twin didn’t, who would? “It’s not the sex itself that worries me. Hell, I was with Talon for ages and I can’t ever say that I actually liked him. With Merle, it was different. It felt like his foulness was invading my very essence. But Moss felt a hundred times worse, and if they all felt like that, I just couldn’t do it. Jack’s telling me I have no choice but—”

“You’ll always have at least one choice, even if you are forced into the system. You don’t have to fuck them, sis. Not when you have the psychic strength to make them believe anything you want them to believe.”

I blinked, and something that was either relief or joy or a mix of both ran through me. Goddamn it, he was right. Even if I was forced into the system, I
didn’t
have to play it entirely Jack’s way. It didn’t matter whether the seduction was real or not, because that wasn’t the point. Getting information
was,
and Jack couldn’t complain as long as I was doing that.

Of course, Jack didn’t just want me as an information gatherer, but as a full guardian—a hunter
and
a killer—but that was a whole different fight. And it certainly wasn’t a place I was willing to go or even compromise on, even if he did drag me into the ranks.

I leaned forward and kissed Rhoan’s cheek. “Thank you for clearing muddy thoughts.”

He grinned. “Isn’t that what big brothers are for?”

I smiled. He’d come howling into the world a whole two minutes before me. “That and rescuing little sisters when they bite off more than they can chew.”

“Which thankfully hasn’t happened in a while. Anything else I need to know about?”

I told him about the spirit lizard, then about Quinn’s presence. He swore under his breath. “Jack’s not going to be happy.”

“Which is why I thought I’d leave it to you to tell him.”

His brown eyes glimmered with amusement. “Coward.”

“Yep.” I looked up and noted that we were drawing closer to the guards’ quarters. I needed to ask my questions before we ran out of time. “Did you see or feel anything unusual when you were scouting around the outside of the kitchen?”

He smiled. “I’ve a feeling you already know the answer.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of cloth. “I saw a shifter pretending to nose through the rubbish. The minute I approached she ran, but I found this in amongst the rubbish. I think it must have dropped from a pocket during her original shapeshift.”

“You didn’t give chase?”

“I had no chance.”

He handed me the cloth, which turned out to be a gray and white handkerchief. Just like the one that had been tucked into Nerida’s breast pocket.

“It had a musky, feminine scent, but there was little in the way of perfume,” he continued. “Given what it’s been through recently, it now probably smells of nothing more than me and smoke.”

I sniffed it. He was right. “One of my roommates is a werefox, and happened to be wearing a hanky like this earlier. I might go check if she still is.”

“Be careful with her. Foxes are as slippery as snakes.”

“Or as cunning as foxes.” He groaned at my admittedly bad pun, and I grinned. “So you think this werefox might have had something to do with the blast?”

“I have no idea, but she’s certainly worth questioning. Just don’t get caught doing so by the wrong people.”

“I won’t.” I stopped as we neared the gate leading into the guards’ quarters. There was a guard watching us, but the mere fact I couldn’t read him said he was human. He wouldn’t hear what we were saying as long as we went no closer. “One thing you do need to know—there’s three underground floors that aren’t on the plans. I have no idea what’s on the first level, but there’s a small research lab on sub-two, and Merle, Moss, and Starr have quarters on sub-three.”

He nodded. “They told us that during briefing. Warned us that no one but the head of security and assigned guards went down there.”

“Did they mention the fact there’s an escape tunnel leading from one of the sublevel floors out into the forest?” When he shook his head, I continued, “And there’s also what looks to be a second elevator on the third level that no one else seems to be aware of.”

“So how come you know about it?”

“I saw Merle key it open. When I asked Dia about it, she said it was a type of air lock provided for Starr’s protection.”

“But you don’t believe she’s telling the truth?”

“Oh, I believe she believes that’s what it is. I just don’t believe it
is
that.”

“So the levels could go lower?”

“Why else would they have a secret elevator? If it went back up to the other levels, surely others would know about it?”

“It’s a lead worth following. Though unless I can attract Starr’s attention, I won’t be the one following it.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Be careful with him. He doesn’t walk in the same sane world as you and me.”

“That’s a given.” He squeezed my shoulder then stepped away from my hold. “Keep in touch.”

“I will. Just promise to be careful around your target. I have a bad feeling about him.”

“That’s because he’s a bad man.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “It’s part of my job to associate with, and then destroy, bad men.”

“But this bad man seems to think he knows me, disguise or no. He’s in our life somehow, and the slightest slip could tip him off as to who we really are.”

“Warning heeded.” He glanced briefly at the watching guard, then leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “Don’t play with our friendly neighborhood stallion too much. You have got a job to do here, you know.”

I gave him a light whack on the arm before he could jump away. He chuckled softly, gave me a wink, then walked off. I watched him until he was inside, then turned and headed for my own quarters.

The fighters’ quarters were full, and most of the women were asleep. One or two were staring out the windows or chatting amongst themselves, but for the most part, silence reigned.

Berna was in bed and, as she’d warned earlier, snoring heavily enough to wake the dead. Or undead, as the case around here might be. Nerida wasn’t in the room, and her toiletries bag was missing from the bedside table where she’d placed it earlier. But the sound of running water was coming from the bathroom.

Perfect. Just perfect.

I collected my still-damp towel and soap, and headed to the bathroom. The water flicked off as I entered.

“Hey,” Nerida said, “throw me the spare towel that’s sitting near the basin, will you?”

I quietly shut the door, dumped my towel and soap in a nearby stall, then moved over to grab Nerida’s towel. “Catch,” I said, and tossed it high, not over the door but at the camera in the corner above it. I might never have been tall enough to be a basketball player, but I was a pretty handy shot at goal. The towel landed precisely where I wanted it—catching the body of the camera and draping down over the edge of the lens. With the camera now covered and sound not an issue—thanks to the fact there were no microphones in the bathroom—I stepped forward, raised a foot, and kicked open the door.

“You stupid bit—” The rest of Nerida’s curse was lost as the door slammed back against the stall wall.

She spun around, a look of shock and perhaps a little fear etching her features. I gave her no time to react any more than that, simply wrapped a hand around her throat and slammed her back against the wall.

She grunted—a sound that was strained and angry all at once. The fear, if it had been fear I’d seen, was gone. And that in itself suggested this woman was more than what she was pretending. Anyone with any sense feared a werewolf when they were angry. That she didn’t meant she could defend herself when she wanted—or she had other sources of protection I wasn’t aware of.

Even as the thought crossed my mind, awareness tingled across my senses. I ducked instantly, and a fist the size of a shovel skimmed across the top of my head. I squeezed Nerida’s neck harder, making her gasp, even as I lashed out backward with a bare foot. I connected with flesh, felt the blow sink deep enough to hit bone, and got a grunt in response.

“I’ll break her fucking neck if you don’t stop, Berna. I swear to God I will.”

“Release her, then.” Berna’s words were as quiet as mine, but filled with the restrained promise of violence.

“Release someone who’s just killed at least ten people? I hardly think so.”

I twisted around to check on Berna, but didn’t ease the force of my grip around Nerida’s neck. The werefox was huffing, her face darkening with her battle to breathe, but I didn’t damn well care. Everything I’d smelled, everything I’d felt, when I first walked up to the blast area had come back with a rush, and the dead and dying who’d filled me with their pain wanted revenge. And my fingers—my whole arm—were shaking with the effort
not
to squeeze that little bit tighter. To kill her, and let the dead have her.

Berna’s brown eyes narrowed a little. Bear-shifters might have the rep for honesty, but I had a feeling I’d be getting anything but that from
this
bear-shifter. At least for the immediate future.

“Don’t speak rubbish, wolf. She was with one of the people from the arena for hours, then she came here. She didn’t have anything to do with that explosion.”

“Hard to believe when she was actually spotted not once, but twice. And if you don’t step back this instant, she’s one dead werefox.” I squeezed a little harder, just to emphasize my seriousness, and Nerida made an odd gargling sound. I eased up immediately. I didn’t actually want to kill her, no matter what the remnants of the dead might be urging.

Berna raised her hands and stepped back. “Okay, okay, just let her breathe.”

I loosened my grip a little more, and Nerida’s entire body shook as she sucked in great gulps of air. Guilt ran through me, but the dead were having none of that and quickly swatted it away.

And the fact that I could feel them, knew that they were all around me, demanding revenge, was terrifying. Empathy was one thing—but empathy with the dead? What the hell kind of talent was that?

Not one that I wanted, that was for sure.

“Now, just let her go,” Berna continued, in that same quiet tone. Like she was dealing with a psycho ready to explode. And if that impression meant they were less likely to try a concerted attack, then I was happy to keep reinforcing it. “And we’ll talk about this like civilized human beings.”

“Which none of us are.” I shook Nerida a little. “Why did you blow up the kitchen area?”

“I didn—”

“You were
seen,
” I cut in. “In your fox form, twice, by guards.”

“There are tons of foxes running wild,” Berna said patiently. “That doesn’t mean squat.”

I let the handkerchief unfold and held it up so both could see. “How many foxes run around with a gray and white hanky in their pockets? A handkerchief that held a feminine scent the match of Nerida’s—at least until the guard holding it was caught in the explosion.”

Berna swore. Nerida didn’t say anything, just stared at me with small green eyes that spoke of death. I snorted softly. “I don’t fear the death you’re threatening, fox, because the dead are all around us. And they are demanding satisfaction.”

That
got a reaction. Finally, something more than anger sparked in those beady green eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, unless you start telling the truth, I’m going to give the dead what they want. You.”

“You can’t—”

“I can. Or I could report you to the guards and let them give you to those blue things in the arena.”

She shuddered. “No. Please, I’ll talk.”

“I want truth, not lies.” I glanced back at Berna. “I want to know why you’re both here and why you blasted the kitchen.”

“Then what? You’ll go to the guards anyway. We lose either way, wolf.”

“Not if you tell me the truth.”

“And trust the word of a thief?” Berna snorted softly. “I think not.”

I glanced at the covered camera, then back to Nerida. “The guards will undoubtedly be here soon to unfoul the camera. It’s your choice—trust me, and tell me what is going on, or I’ll hand my discoveries over to the guards and let them make of it what they will.”