"You'll always have at least one choice, even if you are forced into the system. You don't have to fuck them, sis. Not when you have the psychic strength to make them believe anything you want them to believe."
I blinked, and something that was either relief or joy or a mix of both ran through me. Goddamn it, he was right. Even if I was forced into the system, I didn't have to play it entirely lack's way. It didn't matter whether the seduction was real or not, because that wasn't the point. Getting information was, and Jack couldn't complain as long as I was doing that.
Of course, Jack didn't just want me as an information gatherer, but as a full guardian—a hunter and a killer—but that was a whole different fight. And it certainly wasn't a place I was willing to go or even compromise on, even if he did drag me into the ranks.
I leaned forward and kissed Rhoan's cheek. "Thank you for clearing muddy thoughts."
He grinned. "Isn't that what big brothers are for?"
I smiled. He'd come howling into the world a whole two minutes before me. "That and rescuing little sisters when they bite off more than they can chew."
"Which thankfully hasn't happened in a while. Anything else I need to know about?"
I told him about the spirit lizard, then about Quinn's presence. He swore under his breath. "Jack's not going to be happy."
"Which is why I thought I'd leave it to you to tell him."
His brown eyes glimmered with amusement. "Coward."
"Yep." I looked up and noted that we were drawing closer to the guards' quarters. I needed to ask my questions before we ran out of time. "Did you see or feel anything unusual when you were scouting around the outside of the kitchen?"
He smiled. "I've a feeling you already know the answer." He reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of cloth. "I saw a shifter pretending to nose through the rubbish. The minute I approached she ran, but I found this in amongst the rubbish. I think it must have dropped from a pocket during her original shapeshift."
"You didn't give chase?"
"I had no chance."
He handed me the cloth, which turned out to be a gray and white handkerchief. Just like the one that had been tucked into Nerida's breast pocket.
"It had a musky, feminine scent, but there was little in the way of perfume," he continued. "Given what it's been through recently, it now probably smells of nothing more than me and smoke."
I sniffed it. He was right. "One of my roommates is a werefox, and happened to be wearing a hanky like this earlier. I might go check she still is."
"Be careful with her. Foxes are as slippery as snakes."
"Or as cunning as foxes." He groaned at my admittedly bad pun, and I grinned. "So you think this werefox might have have something to do with the blast?"
"I have no idea, but she's certainly worth questioning. Just don't get caught doing so by the wrong people."
"I won't." I stopped as we neared the gate leading into the guards' quarters. There was a guard watching us, but the mere fact I couldn't read him said he was human. He wouldn't hear what we were saying as long as we went no closer. "One thing you do need to know—there's three underground floors that aren't on the plans. I have no idea what's on the first level, but there's a small research lab on sub-two, and Merle, Moss, and Starr have quarters on sub-three."
He nodded. "They told us that during briefing. Warned us that no one but the head of security and assigned guards went down there."
"Did they mention the fact there's an escape tunnel leading from one of the sublevel floors out into the forest?" When he shook his head, I continued, "And there's also what looks to be a second elevator on the third level that no one else seems to be aware of."
"So how come you know about it?"
"I saw Merle key it open. When I asked Dia about it, she said it was a type of air lock provided for Starr's protection."
"But you don't believe she's telling the truth?"
"Oh, I believe she believes that's what it is. I just don't believe it is that."
"So the levels could go lower?"
"Why else would they have a secret elevator? If it went back up to the other levels, surely others would know about it?"
"It's a lead worth following. Though unless I can attract Starr's attention, I won't be the one following it."
A shiver ran down my spine. "Be careful with him. He doesn't walk in the same sane world as you and me."
"That's a given." He squeezed my shoulder then stepped away from my hold. "Keep in touch."
"I will. Just promise to be careful around your target. I have a bad feeling about him."
"That's because he's a bad man." He gave me a lopsided grin. "It's part of my job to associate with, and then destroy, bad men."
"But this bad man seems to think he knows me, disguise or no. He's in our lire somehow, and the slightest slip could tip him off as to who we really arc."
"Warning heeded." He glanced briefly at the watching guard, then leaned forward to kiss my cheek. "Don't play with our friendly neighborhood stallion too much. You have got a job to do here, you know."
I gave him a light whack on the arm before he could jump away. He chuckled softly, gave me a wink, then walked off. I watched him until he was inside, then turned and headed for my own quarters.
The fighters' quarters were full, and most of the women were asleep. One or two were staring out the windows or chatting amongst themselves, but for the most part, silence reigned.
Berna was in bed and, as she'd warned earlier, snoring heavily enough to wake the dead. Or undead, as the case around here might be. Nerida wasn't in the room, and her toiletries bag was missing from the bedside table where she'd placed it earlier. But the sound of running water was coming from the bathroom.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I collected my still damp towel and soap, and headed to the bathroom. The water flicked off as I entered.
"Hey," Nerida said, "throw me the spare towel that's sitting near the basin, will you?"
I quietly shut the door, dumped my towel and soap in a nearby stall, then moved over to grab Nerida's towel. "Catch," I said, and tossed it high, not over the door but at the camera in the corner above it. I might never have been tall enough to be a basketball player, but I was a pretty handy shot at goal. The towel landed precisely where I wanted it—catching the body of the camera and draping down over the edge of the lens. With the camera now covered and sound not an issue—thanks to the fact there were no microphones in the bathroom—I stepped forward, raised a foot, and kicked open the door.
"You stupid bit—" The rest of Nerida's curse was lost as the door slammed back against the stall wall.
She spun around, a look of shock and perhaps a little fear etching her features. I gave her no time to react any more than that, simply wrapped a hand around her throat and slammed her back against the wall.
She grunted—a sound that was strained and angry all at once. The fear, if it had been fear I'd seen, was gone. And that in itself suggested this woman was more than what she was pretending. Anyone with any sense feared a werewolf when they were angry. That she didn't meant she could defend herself when she wanted—or she had other sources of protection I wasn't aware of.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, awareness tingled across my senses. I ducked instantly, and a fist the size of a shovel skimmed across the top of my head. I squeezed Nerida's neck harder, making her gasp, even as I lashed out backward with a bare foot. I connected with flesh, felt the blow sink deep enough to hit bone, and got a grunt in response.
"I'll break her fucking neck if you don't stop, Berna. I swear to God I will."
"Release her, then." Berna's words were as quiet as mine, but filled with the restrained promise of violence.