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I stopped, yanked my boots free, and slapped them on. The only chance I had was not leaving a bloody trail for everyone to follow.
My pursuers had reached the roof; even now they were fanning across it, some following the bloody trail, others ensuring that I could not slip past them.
It was tempting to immediately run—every part of me was quivering to do just that—but it would be pointless given the amount of blood I was losing. I tore open the medipac, pulled out the sealant, and sprayed the worst of the wounds—the ones responsible for leaving the trail. It hurt like a bitch and the nerve endings that had been dormant until now sprang joyously to life. I gritted my teeth against the pain, slapped a bloody hand against the parapet to ensure I left a print, then tossed the empty sealant container over the side. As it tumbled toward the pavement, I walked on, following the parapet around to the left edge. While I wasn’t overly familiar with this part of Central, I knew the buildings along this section of Victory had even tougher height restrictions than those enforced on Second Street. Which meant both Government House and the long white buildings on either side of it were all the same height.
There was a walkway between the next roof and me—a canyon that might be only three meters wide but one that seemed a whole lot more right now in my weakened state. I edged back a couple of steps, then took a deep breath and ran. My leap was high but not quite long enough, and I barely caught the edge of the other building. For several seconds I simply hung there by my fingertips, my body screaming in pain, my lungs burning, and a red mist beginning to form in front of my eyes.
A whisper of sound—a soft footstep—from the other building got me moving again. I somehow hauled myself over the edge and rolled onto the other side, where I wasted several more minutes sucking in air and trying
to ignore the pain.
“See anything?” a somewhat metallic voice said.
“No, Captain,” a woman replied. “No indication of blood on this side, either.”
“You and Vince stay there, but watch your back. Whatever magic this woman is using to disappear can’t last much longer. Especially given the blood loss.”
“Righto.”
So they thought I was using magic rather than a light shield to remain invisible, which was at least something, though it was unlikely Sal’s partners would be fooled. And that would undoubtedly mean they’d intensify the security both here and at Winter Halo.
I released the shield, then rolled onto my hands and knees and crawled away. The parapet was giving me cover and I needed to conserve every scrap of energy I could. This roof, like the rest of them in the city, was a metal forest of equipment. The heat and electricity rolling off them quickly dried the blood on my skin and clothes, but even so, there was no way I could enter either Victory or First Street as broken and bloody as I was. I had to find somewhere safe to heal as well as clothes to steal, and I wasn’t going to achieve either of those aims here.
I followed the edge of the building around until I reached the next one. A huge sat dish now prevented the two guards who’d been stationed on this side of Government House from sighting me, and a quick glance over at the next roof told me it was empty.
I gathered the ragged ends of my strength together and formed another sun shield. This time the motes of light were slower in responding, but they did at least respond. I slid over the dividing wall and ran—hobbled—toward the stair entrance. It was locked. I cursed and moved on to the next building—the stairwell door there was also locked.
But the next one wasn’t.
I entered it gratefully and limped down the stairs as carefully as I was able. I had no idea where I was, but if I didn’t find somewhere to recover soon I’d be in trouble. Two flights down I found an entrance into the building. I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob and twisted it. Relief flooded through me when the damn thing opened.
The corridor beyond was filled with a harsh white light and people moving back and forth. There were far too many to risk entering; the sun shield might stop them seeing me, but it wouldn’t stop them feeling me if they ran into me—and with so many people about, that was a distinct possibility.
I carefully closed the door and continued down, but the story was the same on the following three floors. The next one was the lobby level according to the sign. Hoping like hell Rhea gave me a break, I cracked open the door and looked out. There were plenty of people in the foyer beyond, but it was also a vast space, leaving me lots of room to move. Unfortunately, the exits were monitored not only by guards, but by body scanners—not surprising given this place, whatever it was, was still close to Government House.
But I had no choice now. It was either go out there or risk repairing myself in this stairwell—and even if I did, I’d still be left with the problem of getting out.
I sucked the sun shield as close to my body as I dared, then slipped out and tucked in behind a silver-suited, dark-skinned gentleman striding toward the exit scanners. The guards nodded as he approached, suggesting he was well-known to them. He stopped, placed his briefcase in a tub, and then stepped through the scanner. I was one step behind him. The scanners—predictably—went off.
The guard stepped forward and politely wrapped a hand around the stranger’s arm. “Sorry about this, my lord, but I’m going to have to ask you to step this way so I can do a personal scan.”
My lord? Even in this part of Central, there were very few people who could claim such a title. Both the royal family and most of the ruling families had been wiped out during the war. As far as I knew, there were only three families left who could still use the lord moniker, though I couldn’t actually name them. This man had to belong to one of them, though, even if he was a shifter rather than human.
I hesitated, glancing at the door, knowing I had to escape while I still could. But the part of me that was a seeker stirred, and the need to see his face rose. I moved around. His hair was close cropped, his eyes as dark as his skin, and his nose rather reminded me of a bird’s beak. It certainly dominated his otherwise unremarkable features. He wasn’t someone I knew, but that wasn’t surprising. Nuri probably would, though.
I spun and followed a cluster of people out the door. No more alarms went off. I was free.
The relief that swept me was so intense my knees threatened to buckle. But while I was free of the building, I wasn’t entirely out of trouble. I needed to find fresh clothes and I needed to heal myself, and I had to do both before my energy ran out and the shield dissipated.
Up the street, the blue-suited corps officers were running toward the buildings on either side of Government House. They’d obviously figured out what I’d done.
I spun and headed left, but the sudden movement left me feeling light-headed. It was a warning I dared not ignore. I limped down Victory Street, heading toward the curtain wall. While I didn’t know much about this section of the city, I knew there’d more than likely be upmarket clothing stores near where First and Second Streets intersected Victory. I might not have enough money to purchase items in such places, but I could certainly steal them.
Which was exactly what I did in the first place I came across.
With that done, I paused and once again looked around. Several doors down was a small, rather ornate-looking apartment building. The gentry were moving in and out of it at a dignified pace, making it easy for me to tuck in behind one of them. Although there were both hand and iris scanners, the doors themselves weren’t equipped with sensors, so no alarms went off. I hesitated again inside the foyer but soon found the perfect target—a young man who seemed to have had a few too many drinks. I followed his stumbling steps into the lift and then into his apartment, and watched as he stripped and all but fell to bed. He was out of it in minutes flat.
I heaved a sigh of relief and released the light shield. The combination of fatigue, pain, and blood loss had reached a point where my body was ready to give out. But I couldn’t let go yet. I staggered through the combined living and bedroom area to what appeared to be the only separate room in the place—the bathroom. By the time I’d stripped off what remained of my clothes and tossed them down the laundry chute, I was on the point of collapse. I stepped into the shower pod and let the combination of hot air and water wash the blood and dirt from my body. It didn’t make me feel any better, but at least I was cleaner. I peeked out the door to check on my unknowing host; his snores were deep and loud, giving every indication he wouldn’t wake up for several hours, at least.
