Memory Zero (15 page)

Whoever she heard was close. Maybe even right outside the bedroom door.

She set the gun on its lowest setting and clicked the safety off. The sound, though whisper soft, seemed to
ricochet through the hush. In the hall, someone chuckled softly.

A chill ran down her spine. No one in his right mind would laugh like that. Not unless he was very, very sure of the outcome. With the gun clinging to her palm like a limpet, the barrel barely visible between her clenched fingers, she took a deep breath and stepped from the bedroom.

G
ABRIEL STRODE DOWN THE PRISTINE
halls of the SIU, trying to ignore the surprised looks that greeted him. He felt like shit—and as Karl had already pointed out, he looked like it, too. But did they all have to look so amused once their initial shock had worn off?

His office door slid open long before he neared it, revealing Finley, who had several reams of paper clutched close to his chest.

“They told me you wanted to see me, sir.”

He smiled grimly. What he’d actually said was that he’d like to wring the doctor’s scrawny little neck for letting Ryan escape. And he had promptly been reminded that the woman was his responsibility, not Finley’s. A truth he couldn’t argue against without explaining why he hadn’t been here to mind her.

“I told you to watch her, Finley.”

The young doctor pushed his glasses up his nose and stepped back, allowing Gabriel room to pass.

“I assigned two guards. I just didn’t expect her to escape through the false ceiling.”

No one did, least of all him. But he was beginning to think they should expect the unexpected when dealing with Samantha Ryan. He crossed to the small wash area and flicked on the tap. “How many tests did you manage to run?”

“Several.” Finley peeled the printouts away from his chest and shuffled through the top layer. “We haven’t been able to pin down that extra chromosome yet. Tests so far indicate it’s something we haven’t come across before.”

Gabriel studied his reflection for a moment. Dried blood had matted his hair into weird shapes, and a deep cut near his right cheek was beginning to swell his eye shut. Stephan was going to be furious—especially after his request that Gabriel take a partner with him on missions.

Although Stephan, of all people, should understand his reasons for refusing to do so. Someone with two dead partners behind him should
not
be given a third.

He ducked his head under the cold water, rinsing the blood away, then grabbed a towel and returned his attention to Finley. “I thought we’d just finished cataloging all known species, human or not.”

“That’s the thing—known species. You can be pretty sure there are a heck of a lot of species out there that we haven’t seen, let alone cataloged.”

The kites were one of them; that was for sure. And they were one secret the Federation wouldn’t be able to keep for much longer. With the recent rise in kite attacks, the SIU would soon have to be notified and brought in.

“Are you trying to tell me Ryan’s not human?” Given what
he’d
seen of her so far unnoted skills, he suspected this was a very real possibility.

Finley shook his head. “I’m just making a point. If there are nonhuman species out there we haven’t yet seen, why shouldn’t it be the same with humans? Especially in this day and age, when gene manipulation and cloning is a government-funded research program?”

Even so, it was odd to find a human chromosome they couldn’t categorize. Unless, of course, they were looking for something only partially human and long thought dead. “Finley, do you believe Shadow Walkers ever existed?”

The young doctor pushed back his glasses and pursed his lips. “To be honest,” he said eventually, “no. My father once told me he worked with a man who could hide in shadows, but I always presumed he meant a vampire.”

Finley’s father had worked for the military. Covert operations, if he recalled correctly. “Did he ever mention Shadow Walkers?”

“No.” Finley hesitated, his expression curious. “Why the sudden interest in a myth?”

“No reason.” Maybe Karl was barking up the wrong tree, for once. “What about the microchip?”

Finley dug into the reams of paper and pulled out a small, flat container. “I found it under her armpit. It’s been there for some time, I’d say.”

Gabriel took the container, holding it up to the light. The microchip looked to be little more than a speck of dust. “What can you tell about it?”

“Well, it’s one of the military’s, though they stopped using this type nearly twenty years ago.”

Sam would barely have been nine. But why would they insert something like this in a child? “What did they use them for?”

“Tracking, usually. Every soldier has one, even today.”

“Were Ryan’s parents in the military?”

Finley shrugged. “We haven’t been any more successful in finding information on her parents than State was.”

Maybe his own search had been more successful. Once Finley left, he’d check. “If this device is still active, is there any way for us to track the signal back?”

“We can try.”

The look on the young doctor’s face told him the results were doubtful. “What about someone continuing to track us through it?”

“As long as you leave it in that container, you’re safe.”

Good. Because he fully intended handing it over to the Federation’s experts to see what
they
could make of it. “Mind if I keep this awhile?”

The young doctor shook his head. “We got all the information we can off it.”

“I’ll need a copy of the test results sent to my com-unit, too.”

“Already done, sir. We’ll update as we go.”

At least Finley was efficient, even if he wasn’t so observant at times. “Thanks.”

The doctor nodded and quickly exited. Gabriel studied the chip a moment longer, then shoved it in his pocket and walked across to his desk. “Computer on.” The com-unit hummed softly. “Background check on Samantha Ryan complete. Results inadequate.”

He frowned. How could search results be inadequate? “Explain.”

“No record of Samantha Ryan exists until the year 2032, when she was placed into state care by person or persons unknown. No record of parents, though a
certificate of birth was filed in 2018. No country of origin recorded on certificate. No doctor’s signature.”

“That can’t happen.” That it
had
spoke of government involvement somewhere along the line. Either that or someone had purposefully erased nearly all record of her past, which again could only have been managed by someone in power.

He leaned back in his chair and stared at the screen thoughtfully. “Have you tried military records for the time frames mentioned?”

“Military records for that period are not available for general searches.”

Sometimes these computers were as dense as any human. “Do a priority-one search through all available government records, military or otherwise.” He hesitated, tapping the desk lightly. It wasn’t likely he’d get back to this office anytime soon. He had too much to do. “Send search results, a copy of Ryan’s current file and any updates to outlink 5019. Security access one.”

“Transfer proceeding. Search proceeding. Director Hanrahan wishes to speak with you.”

He scrubbed a hand across his eyes. The day was definitely getting worse. “Put him through.”

The director’s familiar features came online. “I want an update on the Ryan case.”

He watched the director’s heavy jowls flap like sheets in the wind and barely controlled a smile. With all the weight Hanrahan had lost lately, he looked more like a basset hound than ever. “Investigations are still proceeding, sir.”

The director’s heavy-lidded gaze flicked to the right of the screen—a warning there was someone in the office with him. Who?

“Why haven’t the investigations been wrapped up? Ryan admitted to shooting her partner. It’s a matter of record that she made several threats toward him. What’s the problem?”

Gabriel frowned. Obviously, Hanrahan was putting on a show for whoever was in the office with him, but the new information was startling. This was the first he’d heard of any threats. “Ryan claims her partner was a vampire, and that she killed him in self-defense,” he informed Hanrahan, dutifully playing his part in whatever drama was ongoing.

“Poppycock. The woman knows the trouble she’s in and is just spinning you a line. State is getting restless over this. They want a result, and so do I.”

There was an edge to the director’s voice that didn’t make sense. Something was obviously wrong. Who the hell was in there? For a second, he considered storming Hanrahan’s stronghold, but the director’s eyes, green slits barely visible beneath the heavily curtained lids, seemed to warn against it.

“When I find out what’s going on, you’ll be the first to know, sir.” Which was the truth, in more ways than one, he thought grimly.

“Not good enough, Stern. You have until tomorrow to wind up your investigations and hand the woman back for prosecution.”

Prosecution. He snorted softly. So Sam’s fate had already been decided—and she was being shafted big-time. The question he had to answer now was why. And there was precious little time in which to do it. “You’ll have my final report tomorrow afternoon.”

Hanrahan nodded. “See that I do.”

The screen went blank. Gabriel swore and leaned back in his chair. Someone wanted Sam out of the
way, someone powerful enough to put pressure on Hanrahan to wind up an investigation.

He had to find Sam, and fast. Not that he had any intention of handing her over to anyone—at least until he’d sorted out the puzzle she presented. But where would she have gone? Where would
he
have gone, in the same situation?

Jack had been her partner for five years. Given their work, the stress and long hours it often entailed—as well as the fact they were rumored to have been lovers—she had to have known him better than anyone. Except, maybe, his wife.

Which was exactly where
he
would have started. He swung back around. “Computer, do we have an address for Jack Kazdan?”

“Subject currently has two addresses listed—19 Lincoln Street, Mulgrave, and Apartment 811, 15 Russell Street, Melbourne.”

He raised his eyebrows.
That
end of Russell Street was right near Federation Square and considered prime real estate. Kazdan, like Sam and her Brighton apartment directly opposite the beach, should never have been able to afford to rent a
bathroom
in that area, let alone own an apartment.

Maybe the two of them had some connection other than sex. “Which address is listed as his permanent address?”

“Mulgrave.”

Great
. It might be only a ten-minute flight in normal conditions, but the wind was picking up. He rolled his shoulders slightly. The muscles protested. If he flew anymore today, there’d be hell to pay tomorrow. But flying was quicker than driving, and he had
a suspicion he’d better get to Mulgrave promptly or risk losing Ryan for good.

He stood and headed for the roof.

T
HE HALL WAS EMPTY
.
Sam bit her lip and pressed back against the wall. Slowly, carefully, she edged along to the next doorway. After silently counting to three, she quickly stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the semidarkness. Nothing.

Tension slithered through her limbs. They were here, somewhere. She could feel them—a whisper of evil that burned across her skin. She moved on to the next room, but it, too, was empty. She flexed her fingers and tried to relax a little. The last thing she needed right now was to blow someone else’s head off.

Another board creaked, this time in the kitchen. It didn’t make any sense. She’d checked the house and had found no one, though she
had
stupidly left the back door open. But the vampire, at least, shouldn’t have come in from outside. Vampires
couldn’t
move around in daylight—it was the one myth that was true.

Yet Jack’s body, or at least his clone’s, hadn’t burned when touched by sunlight. But then, maybe the real Jack had been the vampire, not the clone.

She stared at the kitchen door for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and kicked it open. Two people sat at the table, drinking coffee, totally unconcerned by her sudden appearance. One was a man she didn’t recognize—he was the vampire she’d sensed. The shifter she’d sensed was Suzy. Sam frowned. Why had she never noticed this before? Or had she been
too busy hating to observe the almost translucent quality of Suzy’s skin—the sure sign of a shifter?

“Well, well, if it isn’t the little cop killer,” Suzy said, her tone dry but her eyes stormy with hatred.

The tension in her limbs increased, though not because of Suzy’s words. The vampire’s expression was one of amusement. Either he hadn’t yet seen the weapon in her hand, or he simply didn’t care because he knew she’d never have time to use it.

Heat washed over her skin, whispering secrets to her mind. A second vampire was behind her.

She spun, pressing her finger against the trigger as she did. The weapon bucked as it fired, throwing her back against the wall. A blue bolt of light hit the second vampire square in the chest. He made no sound, just fell down in a heap, gasping for air and clutching at his chest. He was lucky she’d switched the gun to a lower setting; otherwise he’d have a hole burned right through the middle of him.