Memory Zero (10 page)

The wall that separated them from their own room shook as another incendiary device went off. Beyond that was the strident sound of an alarm. Time to go, before the State and fire boys arrived.

“We’ll take the fire escape and catch a cab back to Central Security.”

She raised a pale eyebrow, but didn’t argue. Though if the glint in her unusual blue-gray eyes was anything to go by, she’d definitely thought about it. He wrapped a hand around the doorknob and slowly opened the door. The corridor beyond was empty, silent.

Smoke was beginning to filter under the door to their room, spreading translucent fingers through the hall. Overhead, the automatic sprinklers chimed softly and dropped from the ceiling, ready for action should the smoke get any thicker. He opened the door wider and edged out.

“The stairs are four doors down to our right,” she said quietly.

He nodded, more than a little surprised that even when half-unconscious, she’d noted the exits. It was the sign of a damn good cop. “Stay behind me.”

He kept his back to the wall and moved forward cautiously. The wailing sirens were drawing closer. Surely their assailant would have fled by now. If he lingered too much longer, he’d be an easy target for
the State boys. Or the SIU, who should also be close by now.

In the room opposite, a floorboard creaked. He stopped, holding the gun at the ready and staring at the door, straining every sense he had to try and decipher who—or what—approached.

“Gun!” Her warning was little more than a hiss of air, then her body cannoned into his back, knocking him down and sideways. He twisted, catching her in his arms, breaking her fall with his body.

A heartbeat later, the section of wall where he’d been standing shattered into a million pieces, showering them with chunks of plaster and wood.

“Two doors back, on the right,” she whispered, then rolled behind him.

He turned and fired. The shot burned through the door. A second later there was a heavy thump as something solid hit the floor. “Go,” he muttered.

She scrambled to her feet and ran for the stairs. He flicked the gun charge lower and fired several warning shots, doing little more than singeing the paint. Then he pushed up and ran after her.

They made it down the stairs in record time. At the bottom, he stopped and listened for any sound of pursuit. The rapid rasp of Sam’s breathing was the only thing to be heard over the wailing sirens, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t after them.

He cracked open the exit door and peered out. Nothing seemed out of place, and the only sign of movement was the slate-gray car cruising to a halt a hundred meters down the road. There would be another around the next corner. It was standard SIU procedure.

He grabbed her hand and led her out. Two men climbed out of the car as they approached it.

“Assistant Director Stern,” the first man said, giving them both the once-over. “What’s happening?”

“Somebody firebombed our room. The assailant was in the park.”

“State is around front, but we’ll check. Anything else?”

“Another assailant, possibly two, in the rooms opposite. And check my car. If they knew I was here, they might have tampered with it. I’ll take your keys.” The SIU agent handed over the triangular black key-coder. “Yours, sir?”

Gabriel tossed the agent his keys, then ushered Sam inside the car. The two SIU officers headed for the fire exit as he climbed into the car.

“Didn’t you just break a few major rules?” she said.

He started the engine and glanced at her. The wariness was still very evident in her eyes, but it had been softened slightly by a hint of amusement.

He shrugged. “They’ve come to expect that of me.”

“I noticed they didn’t quibble.”

Maybe. But that didn’t mean the shit wouldn’t hit the fan later on. He
had
broken a few major rules, but right now, he didn’t care. This case was getting dangerous, and he wasn’t about to hang around where it wasn’t safe. “At least Finley will be able to get an early start on those extra tests.”

“And what about starting an investigation into why I’m being attacked? Not to mention how they found us so quickly at the Rosewater?”

“What do you think I’ll be doing while you’re having those tests?”

“Good,” she muttered, and crossed her arms.

The gentle hum of the engine filled the silence for several seconds. Her gaze was a warmth that he could feel deep inside, but he kept his own gaze on the road. Right now, she was probably trying to figure out whether he could be trusted or not. Which was fair enough, given the situation she’d found herself in. But if their positions had been reversed, he would have been asking lots and lots of questions, if only because answers didn’t come by remaining silent. And sooner or later, if she wanted
real
answers, she would have to not only start asking questions, but place her trust in
someone
.

So why had she trusted Kazdan? If there was ever a man not to trust, it was
that
lying, murdering hound.

“Am I still under investigation for Jack’s death?” she asked eventually.

He nodded. “You shot and killed your partner. Did you expect them
not
to investigate?”

“No, but—” She stopped, and sighed. A frustrated sound if he’d ever heard one.

“There’s nothing much anyone can do until those test results come back and confirm or deny your story.”

“
You
can confirm my story!”

He ignored the anger in her voice. “Only part of it. The fact is, I was long gone by the time you killed your partner.”

“You can still confirm the fact that they were trying to kill me.”

“But not the fact that Jack was.”

She made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like an exasperated growl. He looked at her, but she was now looking out the window and refused
to meet his gaze, though the sudden tension in her shoulders made it obvious that she was well aware of his scrutiny.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. He parked in the SIU’s underground lot and climbed out. She avoided his attempt to guide her across to the elevators, walking by his side but just out of arm’s reach. He swiped his pass through the security slot and punched the button for subfloor twenty-eight. Once they reached the main lab area, he led her to the unoccupied reception area and paged Finley.

“Why all these tests?” She leaned back against the whitewashed walls and gave him what could only be described as a hostile look.

For all of two seconds, he thought about lying. But if he wanted her to trust him, he had better start giving her some reason to do so. So he shrugged and said, “Because you did something the other night you shouldn’t have been able to.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Something other than having the audacity to save myself when my partner was trying to kill me?”

His smile was grim. “You sensed the kite-monster. You shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

“Why?
You
obviously could.”

Yeah, but he was not only a shapechanger, but somewhat sensitive to other nonhumans. From the little they knew about the kites, humans couldn’t see or sense their presence until it was far too late. And she
was
supposed to be human.

“The kites are a new find. Few people know of them, and fewer still have been able to see them early enough to survive an attack. You did, and we need to know why.”

The anger in her blue-gray eyes had died a little, but not the frustration and wariness. “So the psych tests were just a reason to get me down here to do these other tests?”

“Basically, yes.”

“At least someone’s being honest,” she muttered, then gave him a smile that held little real warmth. “Thanks.”

He nodded and glanced up as Finley came down the hall.

“You’re early,” Finley commented, pushing his thick glasses back up his nose.

He wondered why the young doctor just didn’t have laser correction or get implants for his eyes. Hell, given Finley’s skills in the medical field, he could probably even do the procedure himself.

“How small do they make microchips these days?”

Finley’s expression was one of surprise. So was Sam’s.

“The
largest
they make them is pinhead size. Those are rather outdated, of course.”

“Can they be inserted into a human body? Used to track movements?”

Finley glanced at Sam. “Yeah. Want me to look for one?”

Gabriel nodded. They’d been found too quickly at the Rosewater. They hadn’t been followed there from Sam’s apartment, nor had he told anyone that they were going to be there. Only Karl had known, and even he didn’t know who Sam was.

Which left them with Sam herself.

“I’ll let you know what I find,” Finley stated, and waved her ahead of him.

Gabriel nodded and turned, heading for his office.
He had to call Karl, and then he had plans to make. There was a traitor in the Federation’s midst, a traitor intent on taking the life of his brother. It wasn’t going to happen. Not if he could do anything to stop it.

He had no idea who was behind this particular attempt, but he
would
find the culprit.

And then he would kill him.

S
AM LEANED BACK IN THE
well-padded armchair and watched Finley walk out the door. In some ways, the doctor reminded her of a dragonfly—he was always darting about from one machine to another, as if he couldn’t remain still for more than a few minutes. And he was about as skinny as one of those insects, too.

She glanced at the monitor on the far wall. It was nearly nine. Four hours she’d been here, being poked and prodded and shoved inside huge, impersonal machines. And she’d had just about enough. None of this would find any answers. Not the answers
she
wanted, anyway.

Her gaze dropped to the ID tag sitting on the nearby table. She frowned, reached forward and picked it up. Finley had given it to her earlier, warning that she’d need it if she wanted to go to the restroom. She’d thought he was joking, until she’d actually tried to go. Anyone would think the toilet seats were gold.

She turned the card over and caught sight of some writing in the left corner. Security clearance level three. Her heart began to beat a little faster. It was probably the minimum clearance you needed to move around the SIU halls, but upstairs, in the areas governed by State, level three would get her into the morgue.

Her gaze went to the door through which Finley had disappeared, and she smiled grimly. She needed answers, and this tag would help her get some.

She clipped it on, rose, and walked across to the door. Finley glanced up from the com-screen as she entered the outer room and gave her a distracted smile. Her own smile was easy. Jack had once told her she was a natural actress. She hoped like hell he was right.

“Restroom again,” she said. They’d been feeding her enough fluid over the past few hours that she knew he’d accept the explanation.

He nodded and returned his attention to the monitor. She moved into the hall and stopped. It was still deserted, and the silence was almost intense. Finley had told her that only a skeletal staff worked here during the day. The SIU, with its task of investigating all matters relating to the paranormal, tended to be nocturnal, which meant there would be few people around to question or stop her. All she had to do was hope no one in the know was watching the monitors.

She turned left and headed up the corridor. The elevators came quickly into view, the doors opening as she neared. She stepped inside and swiped her card, as she’d seen Gabriel do earlier. Then she pressed the button for sub-level three. For a moment, there was
no reaction, and her breath caught. What if she’d been wrong about the pass? God, the last thing she wanted was more damn trouble landing on her shoulders.

Which undoubtedly was what she’d get by doing this. But, damn it, trouble brought about by searching for answers was worth it. It was the doing nothing that was driving her crazy.

Then the doors decided to shut, and the elevator moved up. She sighed in relief and watched the numbers zip by. At sub-level three, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. She peered out. The corridor was silent and quite dark. Obviously, no one had reported in to work yet, which had to be good news for her. Unless, of course, security noticed her presence and decided to do something about it.

She studied the ceiling, looking for monitors. One … two near the elevator, and at least one halfway down the hall. But if she kept to the walls, out of the light sensor range, maybe she’d escape notice long enough to get to the morgue and take a look at Jack’s corpse.
If
they hadn’t already processed him—though it would have to be something of a record if they had. Technology might have made everyone’s job simpler, but things still seemed to take the same amount of time, if not longer.

She walked along the corridor, keeping as close to the thick shadows crowding the wall as possible. Above her, the security cameras hummed as they tracked her movement, but no lights came on and, more important, no alarm had sounded. She found the entrance to the morgue and swiped her card. The door clicked open. In the morgue’s outer rooms, bright light flared, making her eyes water.