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“Yes, but mostly in smaller establishments. I’ve never worked for any company as large as Winter Halo.”

“You’re chipped?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t everyone?”

“Not if they come from Chaos.” He paused. “You don’t, do you?”

“No.” I waved a hand at the empty chair. “Please, sit.”

He hesitated. “I’m afraid I can’t. There’ve been problems at the company, and I have to get back.”

“I hope it’s nothing major.” Though Sal’s tone bordered on disinterested, I had a suspicion that was anything but the truth.

Nadel gave him a somewhat wary look. “Nothing that I can speak about, I’m afraid.”

“No, I imagine not,” Sal replied. And again, I sensed his interest even though all outward signs suggested otherwise.

The older man frowned and returned his gaze to mine. “I’ll scan your details, if you don’t mind. If your references and history check out, we’ll be in contact about the position.”

“Any idea how long that will take? I’m afraid I’m running low on credits.”

He shrugged and pulled a small scanner from his jacket pocket. “It should take only a day or so. Where are you currently staying?”

I raised my hand, wrist side up. “A place called Old Stan’s on Twelfth.”

He sniffed as he scanned the RFID. “Not one of the more favorable establishments in Central.”

“Maybe not, but it’s one of the few I can afford given the credit situation.”

“I shall see if I can hurry the process along.” He glanced at Sal, nodded, then turned and walked away.

I blinked. “Well, that was short and sweet.”

“As I said, they are in desperate need of security personnel. If your references check out, you can expect to be contacted by tomorrow evening.”

“Huh.” I sat back down. “Why were you so interested in what was happening at Winter Halo?”

He smiled. “I’m lucky Nadel is not as perceptive as you.”

“That you are. And stop avoiding the question.”

His smile grew. “Information is better than credits in Central. Remember that if you wish to succeed in this place.”

A tall, brown-haired waitress appeared and, after a quick glance at the menu, I ordered the roast beef and vegetables. Sal made it two, and ordered wine for us both.

I leaned back in my chair as she left and kicked off one sandal. “And is that what you’re doing at Hedone?” I raised my toes to his leg and slowly slid them upward. His gaze darkened, became hungry. “Gathering information?”

“There is no better place to collect information than those few vital moments postcoitus, when the mind is completely relaxed and the guard down. You, of all people, should know that.”

I did know that, but knowledge and action were often two very different things. Warriors who’d been at war most of their lives sometimes didn’t relax, even during sexual acts. That had always made attempting to read the complete road map of their emotions and put together a picture of plans and possible outcomes very dangerous—especially when a lot of shifters were sensitive to any sort of mental intrusion. Even something as noninvasive as seeking could be a death sentence if it was tried on the wrong target.

Using my skills on Sal would be dangerous. Even if he had nothing to hide, discovery might very well signal an end to our friendship. I was both breaking the trust between us and betraying our friendship by attempting to read him, and the loss of both would be a very high price to pay given I’d only just found him again. And yet, while I very much hoped I’d find nothing to implicate him and that he wouldn’t discover what I’d done, I couldn’t not do it.

I studied him for a moment, then said, “But you’re not a seeker yourself, so I take it you’re employing men and women who are.”

“Seekers or telepaths, although that is something we look for rather than advertise for,” he said. “Hedone has a good reputation, our pay rates are good, and so are the conditions. I have a long list of those wishing positions.”

“And is information gathering the reason why the history of Hedone mentions nothing about making your way up from the twelfth district?”

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