Lethal Engagement (An Unbounded Novella) (5 page)

Abandoning the Hunter, I knelt next to the fallen cashier, lifting his black T-shirt to peek at his wound. It was bleeding but not deep. “You’ll be okay,” I told him.

He pulled me down to whisper in my ear. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

So not going to answer that one. “Do you have a surveillance camera?”

“Yes.”

“Erin,” I began.

She was already kneeling next to me. “Where does the camera feed to? Is there a password?”

“The office,” said the cashier. “I can’t tell you the password . . . unless . . . Please, are you—?”

“Shh.” Erin placed a hand against his lips as a picture of the office appeared in my thoughts.
Password is Unbounded. Meet us in the car afterward.

I jumped to my feet and began pushing my way through the crowd that had converged as patrons and employees craned their necks to see what was happening. As soon as I was past them and sure no one was paying attention to me, I shifted to the location Erin had shown me.

My last glimpse was of Jace using the phone behind the counter.

PART OF OUR RENEGADE TRAINING
was in electronics because we often had to cover our footsteps when Stella wasn’t around. On the office computer, I easily found the file connected to the camera in the ice cream shop. I stopped the feed, selected the file, and connected to an online corruption virus Stella had created. In minutes, it was finished.

Sirens were already wailing in the distance, which meant it was time to go. With a tissue from the desk, I wiped down the computer keys I’d touched, just in case. Then, taking a piece of chocolate from a dish, I popped it into my mouth, chose the coordinates of Erin’s Jeep, and shifted.

Erin and Jace were there, but Erin was on the phone. “It’s Ritter,” Jace informed me. “He knew something was up.”

I wasn’t surprised. Ritter and Erin had developed a connection that sometimes happened to sensing Unbounded and their mates. The connection intensified when there was trouble to one or the other of them.

“I bet she just loves that,” I said, slipping into the back seat next to one of the outfits I’d purchased, still covered in plastic. We’d sent the rest ahead to the plane packed in tissue and boxes, but this one I planned to change into before we landed in DC.

Jace snorted. “She likes it like a hole in the head.” He passed me an ice cream cone. “I got a few more before we left.”

“That’s good. I left mine on a table back there.”

“By the way, nice knife work on that Hunter.”

“Collapsed lung,” I said. “Could be life-threatening.”

“Doubt it. Unfortunately, they got to him in plenty of time.”

Erin hung up and put the Jeep into gear. “Ritter says they have the streets around the shop blocked. Apparently we weren’t subtle enough getting out of there. Either that, or they’re worried about more Hunters. But we should be clear here. We’re parked far enough away.”

We drove without incident to a warehouse several blocks from the Fortress. This was our back door. The man who had originally built the mansion had been a public works manager when San Diego was in its infancy, and his business expertise was only equaled by his paranoia. He’d built tunnels under the wide expanse of lawn, reinforcing them with concrete against high water levels, and connected them to both the sewers and his newly built mansion—intersections he’d conveniently left out of the official plans. The tunnels also connected to this warehouse, and it was especially useful in masking the odd hours we sometimes kept.

We’d reinforced the original tunnel setup with metal doors, handprint readers, security cameras, and explosive charges that could be activated in an emergency. The front entrance of the house was even more heavily guarded with remote machine guns in the trees and inside several decorative statues, more weapons on the roof, and explosives in the yard. We also had a newly created electronic security field that prevented sensing Unbounded from seeing inside and shifters like myself from passing through. I felt safe there, the way I’d once felt with Trevor.

I wanted to be there now, not traversing the secret tunnels, but I wouldn’t be able to get past the shields, so I stayed until we entered the basement. Then I shifted, leaving Erin and Jace to debate the benefits and drawbacks of an Unbounded religion. They’d know immediately that I’d gone, but everyone accepted my impatience for traveling in the conventional way.

There was really nothing left for me to do before the flight but to change out of Stella’s dress, check the material for blood stains before returning it, and gather the few things I’d need from my room, namely my collection of knives and sheaths. They’d probably make me take a gun or two as well, much as I hated the things, and I wondered how we planned to get any of it past Secret Service, who had shadowed Patrick Mann since his return from Europe.

Instead of in my room, I appeared once again outside Cort’s office. Okay, so that was not what I’d been planning. Or maybe I had. Apparently, I needed to discuss what I’d overheard earlier, as much as I wished I could forget it. There were no voices inside now, and I tapped at the door.

Until Cort called, “Come in,” I hadn’t realized that I’d been hoping he was away so I could search his office for clues. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, I pushed into the room.

“Hey, the red hair looks great. All done shopping?” Cort eyed the plastic-covered outfit I carried on its hanger. He gave no indication that he’d heard of the excitement at the ice cream shop, and I wasn’t about to enlighten him.

I tossed the rest of my ice cream into an industrial-sized trash can near where he had several experiments set up on a wide counter. “Look, about Keene,” I said. “Is it just me, or does he seem different these days?” Since Venezuela, I meant.

Cort regarded me calmly for a few long seconds before he responded. “Do you have something specific you’re referring to?” None of the emotion I’d heard earlier when he was arguing with his brother came through in his voice or expression, but after living five hundred years, maybe you learned a little about poker faces.

“Not really.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell Cort about being squeezed into that closet with Keene. Before that day in Venezuela I’d been thinking about Cort as a possible future partner, but that was when I’d realized it must be the old me who found Cort attractive because he’d never made my blood rush in my veins like it had that day in the closet with Keene. Which was just as well, because I’d begun to suspect that Cort found me a little flighty.

“Hey, since you’re here,” Cort said into the silence, “I’ve been thinking that maybe we should test your ability in the vacuum of space.” He thumbed toward the ceiling. “Maybe up there you could move more than just yourself.”

Leave it to the logical Cort to narrow in on the flaw to my talent on the day before my big op. “Yeah, I guess. Let me know when you send off the next space mission.”

Cort didn’t catch the sarcasm. “Sure.”

For all I knew, he had the connections to arrange it. “Excuse me. I have to finish packing.”

“Wait.” Cort’s hand shot to my arm. “Look, Mari, something
is
going on with Keene. Just keep an eye on him. Sorry, that’s all I can say.”

The information was woefully inadequate, and we both knew it. I wondered if Keene had been using the drugs Cort and Dimitri had experimented with in an attempt to activate the Unbounded gene in descendants who hadn’t Changed. Could something have gone wrong? Cort was clearly not going to answer me, so I wouldn’t ask.

“Right.” Still holding Cort’s gaze, I shifted.

My room appeared around me, and I started gathering my belongings. This morning I’d purchased just about everything I’d possibly need, but I was definitely taking my feather pillow. I’d had that thing since fifth grade, and I didn’t sleep as well without it. The end of several feathers poked out of the material, which told me it was time for a new cover.

I was all ready to leave when a soft tap came on my door. “Come in,” I called from the couch. My TV was on, though the sound was off, and the wannabe mothers stalking Patrick Mann filled the screen. I dropped my left hand where I’d been gnawing at the soft flesh of my middle finger between the beginning of the palm and my middle knuckle.

I expected Erin or Stella, but instead it was Keene, an easy smile filling his lean face. His brown hair had been cut and dyed a realistic auburn, and they’d done wonders with makeup because the scruff of slightly darker auburn beard looked longer than it had earlier. Unlike Unbounded who often shaved two or three times a day, he wouldn’t have been able to grow it that fast, unless Cort had provided him with some advanced hair serum I didn’t know about.

“Wow,” I said, coming to my feet. “I almost don’t recognize you.” They’d also done something with the scar that had run vertically on the side of his face near his hairline, because for once the hair wasn’t covering it, but the scar was nowhere to be seen.

“I could say the same thing about you.” Keene whistled. “You look great! I mean, you always look great, but red really makes you look different.”

“They even did my eyebrows. The green contacts will be waiting for us in DC, though.”

“That’ll be interesting.”

For the first time, I noticed the dinner plate in his hands, covered by a silver food dome. “Come have a seat,” I said, going to my sofa. “What’s up anyway?” The words Cort had said about Keene being different came rushing back. Maybe Keene was here to confess whatever he’d been talking about with Cort. Maybe I
was
the “her” they’d referenced.

He sat next to me, setting the dinner plate on my lap. His hands brushed my thighs, seeming to burn through the material of my jeans. My eyes snapped to his, locking into place. The green enveloped me and sent more parts of my body into flames.

Exactly the same thing had happened in that dark closet in Venezuela.

I swallowed hard, pushing my thoughts back. Away. Anywhere. I hadn’t felt this aroused since first meeting Trevor, who had betrayed me in the most horrible way. Now it was Keene who had secrets.

Tell me,
I thought.

He swallowed hard. “Hey, sis—I’d better get used to calling you that, I guess—I brought you something.”

So, no confession. Maybe there was nothing to confess.

There had to be. Life or death, Cort had said. He might be distracted with his experiments, but Cort had never been prone to exaggeration.

Keene held my eyes. My heart thundered in my ears. The whirling emotion made my fingers itch to touch him, to have his arms around me like in Venezuela.
Not going to happen,
I thought.

“Well?” he asked, his voice taking on a touch of uncustomary nervousness. “Aren’t you going to see what’s inside?” He looked pleased with himself and unsure at the same time.

I tore my eyes from his and stared down at the dome. Whatever was inside wasn’t horribly heavy but definitely solid enough to put pressure on my legs. Securing the plate with one hand, I used the other to grasp the knob on the dome, lifting it.

Inside was not one piece but an entire small cake. Chocolate frosting layered the sides, but on the top, the frosting was waved in the shape of bacon, red and white frosting marbled in with the chocolate.

“Your cake with bacon, Madame,” he said with a little dip of his head. His eyes were now dancing.

I swiped a taste of the frosting. Sure enough, my nose hadn’t fooled me—the flavoring was bacon, and not an extract but probably from the fat of real bacon.

My anger at him fled as I laughed and hugged him awkwardly around the cake. “How did you manage this?”

“I’ll never tell.” With a flourish, he produced two forks.

I took a bite of cake as he looked at me, his brows drawn. “Well?”

“It’s delicious.” I took another large forkful and some of it didn’t quite make it into my mouth. Keene reached over and wiped his finger over my bottom lip, rescuing a mound of frosting.

He put it into his mouth. “Mmm. It is good.”

I tried to agree, but my voice stuck in my throat. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and his didn’t leave mine.
What did Cort mean by a matter of life or death?
I should just ask Keene, but whatever had stolen my voice wouldn’t let me.

“To our upcoming op,” Keene said, lifting another forkful of cake. “I think it’s going to be fun, even though we’re going to babysit a spoiled rich boy.” His voice was confident, and his smile wide, but there was something in his eyes I couldn’t read. Longing? Fear? Or maybe just that stupid secret.

“What, you mean rich boys like you?” I taunted.

His smile vanished. “I guess you could say I had everything but the right genes.” A hint of mockery filled his voice, not directed toward me but at himself. I knew how much it had hurt him all those years to have not Changed, to realize that even in the Emporium where his father had so much power, he was a second-class citizen. That wasn’t why he’d deserted them, of course, but doing so hadn’t healed the raw hurt of being rejected by your own blood. I wondered if he ever regretted defecting to the Renegades to work with his brother. I knew they both had mixed feelings about their father.