ShiftingHeat (4 page)

Chapter Two

It took Faye ten minutes to slip out of bed without
disturbing Andros, sliding out slowly, leaving his embrace with not a little
regret. Every time she moved he moaned and reached for her, so for every six
inches she gained, she lost three. And she didn’t want to go. That only made it
harder. She gathered her clothes and stuffed them in the sports bag she’d left
on a chair.

She went back into the bedroom and slid his blue ankle
bracelet free. Perfect, as long as he had the right security clearance. If he
handled computers, he probably had a high clearance level. Enough for her
purposes, anyway.

He stirred and groaned. She half wanted him to wake up so
they could have another session before she had to leave, but she knew she
couldn’t. Shouldn’t. But no, he curled one strong arm around the pillow she’d
left in her place and clutched it. Dreaming of her, she couldn’t help hoping.
When she ventured into the outer reaches of his mind, she felt him stirring. Telepathically,
she sent him soothing dreams, peaceful messages, and waited until he’d slid off
to slumber again.

He looked so sexy, his bare leg caught in the duvet, that
wayward lock of bright hair falling over his face. Her heart ached but her duty
remained clear. She had to do this.

She went through to the bathroom and rinsed out the glasses
from the bottle of wine they’d shared. She put them down with exaggerated care.
She’d only given him a little of the drug, not wanting to spoil his memories by
giving him a hangover. She only needed him asleep long enough for her to
complete her mission without him raising the alarm. But if she hadn’t given him
enough, he’d wake up before she got clear.

The thought gave her prickles of tension. She took one last
look at him and touched her lips, recalling the kisses, tender and passionate,
that he’d pressed on them. If she ever met him again, he’d be on the other
side. He’d hate her. She hoped they wouldn’t blame him too much for letting his
guard down. He didn’t deserve it.

She didn’t even dare take a shower. That would come later.
Not soon enough for her, though. She wanted to wash the scent of him off her,
pretend it didn’t happen. No she didn’t, that was a lie. She wanted to wash
away the guilt, but she feared it was already too late, because it had buried
itself deep, as guilt tends to do, eating at her stomach, churning it into a
nauseous reminder of her betrayal of Andros.

She’d hidden the unusually long straps of her sports bag
because they might have clued him in to what she intended. Unlike Andros, she
could shape-shift in midair, but she had to slip the straps of the bag around
her neck. It was small enough not to block her when she climbed out the open
window. She leaped up and out. Normally she loved this part, but tonight she
felt too heartsick to savor it. She shape-shifted, spread her wings and rose
with the current, letting the air take her higher, above the buildings. The bag
tugged at her but she ignored the weight.

Andros had gotten to her, somewhere deep down where she
never allowed anyone to go. But she’d let him. In a moment of sheer, uncaring
restlessness that she didn’t want to explain. Just for a moment, forgot all her
cares and troubles and just been. With him. He’d made her feel safe and given
her the spirit to fly free. She hadn’t felt that way for a long, long time.

Time to forget all that. Time to work. Recalling the plan of
the STORM building that she’d managed to download from the internet, she set
her sights to the East Side. She didn’t even know if the plan was correct, and
she’d grabbed it from the darknet, so it could be anything. But it was all she
had.

The top of the STORM building came into view. A few Talents
moved around, but the masses that had thronged the roof at sundown were no
more. She landed behind a metal duct that stuck up like a chimney but gushed
air instead of smoke. Those days when a pall of smoke lay over the city had
gone, long gone. She couldn’t feel sorry about that, but it had held a touch of
romanticism. Either that or her memories were rose-tinted.

Holding her breath, she waited for the alarm, but none came.
The ankle bracelet was working. Swiftly, she dressed in the jeans and hooded fleece
she’d brought, slipping on the running shoes afterward. All anonymous, new
items that she’d discard later, get rid of any smidgeon of evidence. She pulled
thin latex gloves over her hands, so fine that once she’d hidden the rolled
ends under her cuffs, they weren’t noticeable unless someone was actually
looking for them. She brushed her hair free to fall over her shoulders so she
could shield her face when she needed to. She was ready. As she moved around
the steel column, she pasted an easy smile on her face.

Half a dozen people populated the rooftop area, some
chatting, some dressing. Her half-smile got her past them. One stared at her
and raised a brow. A big man, rawboned, his jeans loosely slung around his hips
and his chest bare. He thrust a hand through his thick dark hair, restoring it
to some kind of order. She had to stop when he saw her. “Do I know you?” he
said. “I haven’t seen you around before.” His smile indicated the friendly
approach rather than the security check.

“No. I haven’t been here long. I’ve got to go. I’m still
working.”

His smile broadened. “Want to share a coffee break sometime?
The name’s Nick Ivy.”

“Sure.” If she gave him the elbow, he’d be more likely to
remember her for it. He looked like the kind of man women said yes to on a
regular basis. Now she’d have to think of a fake name, fast. Why hadn’t she
done that earlier? Because she’d never done this kind of thing before and she was
doing it on her own, so she didn’t involve anyone else.

He jerked his head up as if he was listening and then
glanced at her. “Sorry, got to go.” He made a face. “Duty calls. But I’ll be
watching for you.” Without his smile, that would have sounded like a threat.

She waited until he’d gone, counted to twenty and then made
her own escape from the roof.

Only when she was going down the internal staircase did she
realize that he hadn’t touched her libido one bit. Considering his devastating
good looks and the time of the month, he should have had some effect. But
nothing. And she couldn’t put it all down to the rising tension sending her
body into cramps. Some of it was from the residual awareness of what she’d just
shared in that anonymous hotel room.

She slung the sports bag over her shoulder and set off to do
her job. Soon enough she’d find out if Andros had the clearance she needed. If
he didn’t, or if someone stopped her, she had her plan ready. A bet that went
wrong, a stupid prank, she’d say. After all, it went with her day job.

She met no one on her way to the elevators, but she imagined
the security cameras followed her all the way. So she walked confidently,
didn’t hurry, just lengthened her stride as much as she dared. She knew the
layout of this building, more or less. Iso rooms and holding cells on the fifth
floor, that was what she needed. She got off on the sixth floor and walked
down, still meeting nobody. This was getting creepy. Did no one work late here?

It was almost a relief to see someone standing outside one
of the doors. A circular window like a porthole was set in the unremarkable
panel of cream wood. She paused and smiled at the man. He was dressed in a navy
suit that screamed “security”, with a cell phone and a walkie-talkie clipped to
his belt and a small gun holster to one side. She would have thought that
redundant, with the number of powerful beings here who could kill or maim with
a thought. But perhaps the man was one of the mortals who worked here. She
wouldn’t risk putting out her senses to find out. “I’m here to see someone.
Harken Nordheim.”

“You have permission?”

She drew out a form from her jacket pocket. “Will this do?” It
wouldn’t, she knew. She’d printed a random official-looking document from the internet.
It didn’t mean a thing, but what she was about to do would probably mean more.

He bent his head to examine it and she held her breath,
partially shape-shifted to boost her strength and hit him, a full chop to the
back of the neck. She’d practiced the move, done it over and over until she had
it right, but she hadn’t done it to a living, breathing human before. Only a
first-aid dummy.

The man crumpled like a piece of paper, collapsing to the
floor in a gentle heap of unconsciousness, though thankfully alive. His
ill-fitting uniform tore a little from the strain. She heard the rip as he went
down.

She could hardly believe it. This was so easy. With no one
in sight and no one heading in their direction, she had to be quick. Because
sure as fuck somebody would come soon. She dragged the hood of her top over her
head and fumbled with the keys, flinging the door wide.

The pure white of an isolation room greeted her, together
with the man she was here to rescue. He stood legs apart, his eyes wide, his
mouth cracked in a huge smile. His confidence, before now so invigorating, struck
her as slightly irritating. Shouldn’t he be grateful or something? He didn’t
even seem surprised. “Good girl! How did you do it?”

“We haven’t done it yet.” She beckoned. “We need to get out
of here.”

Without looking back, she headed for the stairs, the soft
pad of his feet following her. He touched her shoulder. “What’s wrong with the
elevators?”

“Are you insane? They could trap us there. Stairs are
better. Come on.”

They hurtled down the stairs, but on the first floor someone
waited for them. A slightly built woman but that didn’t fool Faye. This person
was a Sorcerer. She felt the power of the woman’s finely honed psi senses and
knew she’d have no chance fighting her that way.

So Faye rushed her, hit her before the Sorcerer could open
her mind and attack. The woman’s head hit the floor with a sickening thud and
she lost consciousness. Faye didn’t wait to ensure her safety, just touched her
with her mind to make sure she was still alive.

She turned around but spun back at the sound of a solid
thump and the echo of pain in her psi senses.

Harken was staring down at the woman, a satisfied grin
wreathing his face. Surely Harken hadn’t just kicked the woman? No, of course
not. The man she knew wouldn’t do that. But it looked like it.

She beckoned and he followed her to the stairs leading down
to the parking area, easily found because it was labeled. She’d never imagined
a top security building would have the floors and areas clearly labeled, but
she needn’t have gone to the trouble of memorizing the plan that had turned out
to have nothing to do with reality anyway.

Fresh air blew across them and she picked up speed, heading
for the first vehicle she saw. A small car, yellow, its body spattered with
dirt and mud from this morning’s shower of rain.

She wrenched the door open, putting all her strength into
pulling it free of its lock. Small car, paltry security. She flicked up the passenger
door lock and Harken scrambled in. Fumbling under the dashboard, she found the
wires and forced her mind into compliance, remembering the skill she’d only
recently learned. She touched the right wires together, relieved when the car
choked into life.

No wheel lock, no electronic gizmos keeping the vehicle
safe. That was why she’d chosen a small, cheap, older model. If she hadn’t
found one, she’d have risked a bigger one, or even running and flying, but this
was better. No psychic trail for them to trace. She’d learned how to bury her shape-shifter
self years ago and she did it now, forcing her psi into slumber.

Feeling sorry for the ordinary office worker whose car she’d
just stolen, she headed for the barriers. No alarm sounded. She still wore the
ankle bracelet and it still held good. Any minute now the alarm would sound and
the ankle bracelets would be deactivated.

Once out of the building, she heaved a sigh of relief. She
felt even better when they’d traveled a few streets and she could be sure
nobody followed them.

“I can’t thank you enough,” Harken said. He didn’t look so
confident now. When she risked a glance at him, she saw the dark circles under
his eyes and the lines of strain by his mouth. “I don’t think I could have held
out for much longer. They questioned me once. It wasn’t pleasant. They would
have done it again. That woman did it once, the one you took down. She was
probably on her way to doing it again.”

“That’s okay. Somebody had to get you out.”

It was done. So why did she feel so bad, instead of
triumphant?

* * * * *

Andros groaned and rolled over, reaching for Faye. Why had
he fallen asleep? He wanted more of this woman. After they’d shared a half
bottle of white wine from the refrigerator, he’d dozed, determined to wake and
have more of her.

He rolled on to his back and pushed himself up to a sitting
position. Fuck, he felt groggy.

He was alone in the bed. Maybe she was taking a shower. He
shoved the covers aside and crossed the room on shaky legs. When he opened the
door to the miniscule bathroom he found no one there, only two glasses rinsed
out and drying on the side of the sink. Something roiled in his gut. Slowly he
turned back to the room. Her sports bag was gone too.
Oh no.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, Andros tried to
think. They’d made glorious love, shared the wine and then—nothing. And he had
a killer headache pounding at the back of his skull.

Realization hit him with the force of a jackhammer. Fuck,
she’d drugged him. He remembered her hand going into her bag before she poured
the wine—getting more condoms, she said, and she’d showed him a couple.
Probably picked up a pill at the same time. He hadn’t kept the glasses in clear
view all the time. Shit, he wasn’t an agent, why should he worry? Besides, if
she wanted to rob him, she was out of luck…