Harlequin Nocturne March 2014 Bundle: Shadowmaster\Running with Wolves (17 page)

Suddenly Phoenix remembered what had happened when she'd tried to take Matthew Patterson to the Enforcers, after she'd escaped from Drakon and the Scrappers. Brita had shown up out of nowhere and helped
rescue
Matthew just as The Preacher's men had arrived. Leaving Phoenix to fight those men by herself.

Maybe Brita, surely knowing who Matthew was, had realized she had to protect him from the Boss's men and felt more capable of doing it than Phoenix. But why had she appeared at exactly the right time? And why hadn't she taken Matthew back to the Enforcers, or tried to get him out since then? Because it would have blown her cover at a crucial moment?

It all seemed too perfect. Maybe she wasn't what Chan claimed. Maybe Phoenix had been right all along. Had Brita been playing such a deep game that even Aegis couldn't detect her real motives?

No matter what Chan had said, Phoenix knew she could never trust Brita. Not until she was certain where the woman's loyalties lay.

That would be the most dangerous game of all. And she was the only one who could play it.

* * *

Phoenix had been ready for The Preacher's men when she returned to the Fringe. She'd been ready for any other Boss who might have heard about her, either from someone in Drakon's crew or by some other method of communication that made secrets so hard to keep in the Fringe.

She was even ready for the possibility that one of Drakon's fellow Opir spies might be watching for her, aware of
“Sammael's”
recent actions and intending to defy his decision to
negotiate
with the enemy.

Even so, she wasn't prepared when Brita stepped from behind an abandoned office building with three of Drakon's crew, including Repo.

Immediately Phoenix was on her guard, but there was no indication that Brita was anything but what she'd always seemed to be, no sign of any special recognition or acknowledgment on the lieutenant's face, no change in her vaguely hostile greeting.

But then again there wouldn't be. Not openly.

“Do you have the files?” Brita asked.

“Yes,” Phoenix said, touching the bulge under her jacket.

“Then let's get undercover. I don't like standing out here, even in daylight.”

They jogged back into the office building, where the three crew members crouched against the wall and shared a contraband cigarette.

“What's going on?” Phoenix whispered, her neck prickling as if they were being observed by someone she couldn't hear or smell or see. “I thought you were disbanding the crew for safety and moving the Hold. Why are you all together? Where's Sammael?”

“He can't meet you as planned. The Preacher has men watching your rendezvous, so Sammael asked me to take you to the new location.”

“Why are The Preacher's men watching?” Phoenix asked, observing Brita's face carefully. “Hoping for revenge?”

“If something else is going on, we won't have time to figure it out now.”

“It couldn't have anything to do with your meeting with his rep?” Phoenix said, too softly for the humans to hear.

Brita lifted one eyebrow a fraction of an inch, a signal Aegis operatives used only when they were in close proximity. “It's complicated. Look, we don't have any time to waste.”

Unless Brita had learned the signal from a captured agent, she had to be Aegis's operative. Phoenix glanced to the west, where the sun was sinking toward the Pacific. Brita's night vision, like Phoenix's, would enable them to move freely in darkness. Not so the humans with them.

“Why did you bring
them?
” she asked, nodding toward the crew members.

“They'll fall back and keep an eye out behind us,” Brita said. “If anyone follows us, they'll lead them away.”

“That's quite a risk.”

“They're willing to take it, for the Boss.”

The explanation felt wrong somehow, but Phoenix had no way of knowing if that feeling was because Brita really wasn't the deep-cover agent, or that she had other motives in mind.

There was only one way to find out.

“Lead on,” she said.

Brita nodded, signaled to the men and moved as any Fringer did, darting from cover to cover and gradually working her way south. After about a quarter of a mile she stopped again.

“He's just around that corner, by the Wall,” Brita said. “I'll leave you here. I have things I have to take care of for Sammael, and I may be gone a while.”

The small hairs on her neck standing erect in warning, Phoenix nodded and waited until Brita was out of sight. The sun was almost down, and Phoenix's night vision was just kicking in as she made her way cautiously in the direction Brita had indicated.

But Brita hadn't misled her. Drakon—dressed in heavy day clothing and standing among the long shadows—was in conference with a small group of humans, looking much as he had the first time Brita had taken Phoenix to witness her Boss performing one of his
“good deeds.”

Now that she knew him so well, Phoenix had no reason to doubt Drakon's purpose. He spoke to each of the people in turn, shook the hands of the adults and helped them pass through a hole in the Wall—new or old, Phoenix couldn't tell—as a couple of tough-looking Fringers kept watch. One of them spotted Phoenix just as dusk gave way to night.

He whistled sharply, and Drakon spun around as the last human disappeared through the passage. He smiled, his capped teeth catching some final reflection of the dying sun, and ran straight for her.

She met him halfway. They crashed together, breathless, Phoenix laughing, Drakon cupping her head between his hands and kissing her hair, her forehead, her lips.

“You wanna get a room?” asked the male observer. “There're plenty around here to choose from.”

Chapter 17

D
rawing back to search Phoenix's eyes, Drakon waved them away. “Thank you, my friends. If you're still willing to help with the next group—”

“Sure,” the woman said. “These're our people. And we can always get out ourselves before the Enforcers come back.” She nodded to her companion, who helped her stack up the usual camouflage of boxes, crates, garbage, metal and other detritus in front of the hole. Then they melted into the darkness, leaving Phoenix and Drakon alone.

In seconds he had pulled her into the nearest building and had her up against a wall, urgently working at her zipper. Suddenly, they were both devoid of their pants and shoes, Drakon had lifted her against him with her thighs spread to either side of his hips and he was thrusting into her, hard and fast. It was as if he was trying to make her a part of himself.

Moaning with joy and excitement, Phoenix closed her eyes as Drakon had his very thorough way with her. She clawed at his back, heedless of the roughness of the wall, as she gripped him more tightly with her legs and gasped as he drove himself even more deeply inside her. She was dimly aware when he removed his caps over his teeth and tossed them aside, but every sensation of pleasure and ecstasy spun to its height as he pierced her neck with his incisors, taking her blood as he took the rest of her.

It wasn't long before she was crying out, and he shuddered with his own release. He withdrew from her neck, and she dropped her face into the hollow of his shoulder. He stayed inside her for some time, and then gradually eased her down to her feet.

She didn't let him go. She kissed the hollow of his neck just above his collar, his chin, his jaw, his lips. He accepted her caresses, eyes closed, and simply held her.

A gust of cool wind blew through the broken door, and Phoenix laughed. “I'm cold,” she said. “I think I'd like to put my pants back on now.”

He chuckled, though the sound seemed strained to her, almost uneasy. She grabbed her pants from the floor and pulled them on while he did the same. He retrieved his caps, cleaning them with his sleeve, and replaced them. Once they'd put on their shoes, they both sat against the wall side by side, bodies touching. Drakon was very quiet.

“Didn't you feel it?” Phoenix asked, trying to break through his strange mood.

“What, in particular?” he asked, flashing her a brief smile.

She relaxed and pulled the case containing the files from inside her jacket. “I can't believe this wasn't sticking into your chest the whole time.”

He glanced at the case almost as if it no longer mattered to him. “You were able to get them?” he asked.

“I wouldn't have come back so soon if I hadn't,” she said. “The plan is set, just as you wanted. Though I wish there was some other way to expose Patterson for what he is.”

“I know.” He sighed and took her hand, cradling it between his own. “Show me the files.”

“Is it safe here?” she asked, glancing toward the door.

“As safe as anywhere. I've got watchers, some of my crew, patrolling and keeping an eye on the entire area.”

“Brita had Repo and a couple of the other guys with her.”

“Yes,” he murmured. “Brita.”

His tone seemed completely neutral, Phoenix thought, and yet...

“The Hold has already been moved,” he said, “and I'm doing my best to get people out.”

“I couldn't help noticing that,” she said, squeezing his hand. She put the case on the floor between them, unlocked it and pulled out the contents. “Patterson didn't manage to purge all his files. We have enough here to make him look very bad to anyone who has an objection to the murder of innocents or blatant and horrific miscarriages of justice.” Her eyes grew moist. “Nothing can ever change the past. But this may open some eyes, and it will make it pretty hard for Patterson to hold on to his political career, let alone further it.”

“And yet nothing will be solved,” he said, staring blindly at the littered floor.

Phoenix thought of Aegis, of all the work it had done trying to keep the peace by patrolling the Zone and discouraging any Nightsider attempt to break the Armistice. She'd no longer be a part of that. Aaron Shepherd was determined to make her his own personal operative. She could never let that happen.

“We're only two people,” she said softly, touching Drakon's shoulder. “Once we get out, maybe we can locate one of the free colonies, and help them build a new way of life. Maybe that's the only thing that will save all of us, Opiri
and
human. Maybe there's still a way to mend this world without letting it burn to the ground and wait for a better one to be born out of the ashes.”

He finally looked at her. “Your wish may not come true, Phoenix.”

“But it's all I have. It's what we have to hope and fight for in any small way we can.”

She leaned against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she realized that she'd gone without sleep for nearly two full days.

But she was here. With
him.
Everything could fall apart in the next hour, the next day, the next week. But they were together now, and she intended to cherish this moment.

After making love twice more, they went to the half-collapsed market in which Brita, Drakon and one or two others had taken shelter earlier. Matthew Patterson, his hands tied loosely to one of the pylons, seemed strangely relaxed, as if he had become accustomed to his captivity or at least no longer saw any point in struggling.

Repo showed up by midnight, but Brita still hadn't returned by the next day. Drakon didn't seem worried, and Phoenix thought it better not to discuss the subject with him. She needed a chance to get Brita alone before the exchange was made.

But she and Drakon had plenty of work to fill their time. While volunteer Scrappers organized patrols and kept watch throughout the Fringe—ever mindful that the Enclave politicians might yet break their word and send Enforcers in—Drakon, Phoenix and a few of the crew who had refused to leave their Boss arranged to move the other Fringers who wanted to escape the city. They were sent out armed, carrying as much in the way of food as Drakon could dig up, and with spare sets of clothing. After that, their fates were in their own hands.

But they'd chosen possible freedom over the likelihood of eventual serfdom, and Phoenix wouldn't have chosen any differently. She felt more useful, more needed than she ever had in her life, and she had nothing to prove. She and Drakon worked as a perfect team, seldom needing to speak, curling up together at night on ragged blankets and making love—always with a kind of urgency, as if Drakon expected these days to be his last.

Phoenix refused to consider the possibility. She accepted the happiness she'd found, the look in Drakon's eyes, both sad and filled with something very close to love. It was enough for her.

And one night, when they held each other, she told him she loved him.

There was nothing momentous about the occasion. She'd made her feelings clear enough. But he said nothing...only held her close, enfolding her with his arms and gently rocking her as if she were a child in need of comfort.

She thought of his lost wife and child, how he had held them, loved them, and wished with all her heart that she could restore them to him, even if she had to give him up forever.

The day before the scheduled exchange, Drakon spoke privately with Matthew. Though she made no attempt to listen in, Phoenix watched the young man's face. She saw no hostility or resentment, only earnest attention. Afterward, Phoenix asked Drakon what had transpired between them.

“He kept demanding to know why I was so certain his father was...what I claimed him to be,” Drakon said, his gaze distant.

“And?”

“It took some time, but I think he believes at least part of what I've told him.” He smiled slightly and kissed her lips. “He's been quiet, at least.”

“Whatever he may believe, he'll never turn against his father. And what good would it do if he did?”

“No good at all,” Drakon said.

“Then why torment him?”

“Why?” Drakon said, meeting her gaze with the same hardness in his eyes she'd seen when they'd first met. “So that the younger Enforcers can understand, even if their elders don't.”

“We're not quite elders yet, Drakon,” she said, trying to tease him out of his dark mood and herself out of her fear of what tomorrow would bring.

“You'll live longer than any human,” Drakon said, his mood changing suddenly to one of profound sadness. “If I survive, I'll live still longer. Can you accept that?”

“Growing old while you don't? It's more a question of the other way around.” She cupped his cheek. “Can you live with an old woman?”

“I'll never let you go,” he said gently, “unless I die first.”

Clenching her fingers around his, she squeezed as hard as she could. “You're leaving your old life behind. We both have too much to live for.”

He worked his hand free, turned her palm up and kissed it. “I've found it's possible to go on living when the ones you love have died. If that ever happens to either one of us, we'll survive, because there is much to be done. As you told me, there may still be a way to save this world without letting it burn to the ground. You'll be part of that, Phoenix.”

“And so will you.”

But he was very quiet after that, and that night they both fell asleep in each other's arms without making love beforehand.

She woke to find the space beside her cold, and hard hands clutching at her arms. Two men pulled her to her feet, and she recognized Repo's features as well as those of another member of Drakon's crew.

Instantly she began to fight, shouting Drakon's name. But Repo had a stunner, and though it only slowed her down, it was enough for them to force her arms behind her, cuff her and gag her so that she was unable to call out.

When the stunner's effects wore off, she just had time to notice that Matthew was gone and she and her captors were alone in the market. As they dragged her outside, she could see that it was midmorning, only around three hours until the meeting between Drakon and Patterson was to take place.

She continued to struggle, but Repo made it very clear that he'd continue to use the stunner if she tried to break the cuffs or run.

They took her to the Wall, where two Scrappers with military gear were waiting along with several couples and children.

“You know what to do,” Repo said, handing the stunner to the woman of the first pair. “Get her out and take her away as fast as you can. If you have to, there's a stronger setting that'll knock her out for an hour or two, but she'll be more of a burden then. You decide what's best.” He looked at Phoenix. “Sorry, but this was Sammael's order. Get you out along with the last bunch before the meeting.”

Phoenix shook her head wildly, shouting under the gag. Her voice came out muffled and unintelligible.

“He wants you free in case something happens to him,” Repo said. “I know you wanted to stay. Most of us would do anything for him. But it ain't in the cards.”

Nodding to the pair with the backpacks, Repo passed her over to a large man, who grabbed her and started for the exit. It looked very much as if they would succeed in getting her out.

But desperation was a potent enhancer, and Phoenix was much stronger than they were. Before the woman could apply the stunner, Phoenix kicked out and knocked one of the men down. The other one tripped over the lip of the hole, and Phoenix darted back through.

Repo and his fellow crew member were lying prone on the ground, Brita standing over them with an Enforcer pistol. When the woman with the stunner tried to return through the hole, Brita aimed her gun and shook her head.

“Stay out,” she said. “Leave the passage open. These men will be joining you.” She glanced down at the outraged faces of the men on the ground. “Get up, Repo. You're both going out.”

“What in hell are you doing, Brita?” Repo demanded. “This wasn't part of what Sammael—”

“He changed his mind,” she said, waving the gun. “Go. I'm going to seal up this end, so you won't be coming back this way. I'd advise that you take the chance to escape, because it's going to get hairy once the temporary truce is over.”

She waited, gun at the ready, while Repo, the other man and the woman—who was still frozen halfway through the Wall—had all gone to the other side. Then she moved to unlock the cuffs around Phoenix's wrists and untied the gag.

“What is going on?” Phoenix demanded, putting a good distance between herself and Brita.

“Just shut up, and stay where you are.”

Edging toward the Wall, Brita disappeared behind one of the heavy metal road signs that partly blocked the hole. Before Phoenix could move, the other woman had shoved the sign aside, and a pile of bricks balanced on the top of the Wall shifted and thundered down to completely cover the hole.

Brita stepped back, as expressionless as a mechanic who had just performed the most dull and routine of repairs. She turned to Phoenix.

“Listen up,” she said. “I have a lot to tell you, and we haven't got much time.”

But Phoenix was already moving, setting off at a sprint away from the Wall. Brita lunged after her, tackled her and threw her to the ground. Phoenix grappled with the other woman, both of them entangled in a melee of arms and legs, fists and boots. Brita was stronger than Phoenix had ever imagined, and she had to fight desperately to keep the other woman from besting her.

In the end, Brita won. As she lay panting with the other woman's foot on her throat, Phoenix knew Brita couldn't possibly be less than at least full dhampir, though she, like Phoenix, lacked a dhampire's catlike pupils.

It was clear now that she really was the deep-cover agent. If Drakon had meant to get Phoenix out and Brita had stopped it from happening, she was acting directly against her Boss's orders. But was it for Aegis?