I ducked several whistle-fast blows, caught another in my fist, and missed the one aimed at my stomach. Her fist sunk deep and my breath left in a whoosh. I had no choice but to ignore the burning sensation in my gut as I ducked and weaved and was gradually driven back farther into the stall.

Then lights went out. Berna, probably. And though she was undoubtedly trying to stop the monitoring guards from seeing what was going on, she'd unknowingly given me an advantage. Night was my friend, not theirs. I switched to infrared, dropped underneath another one-two series of blows, then came up fast and pushed her backward, as hard as I could. As the werefox staggered backward and tried to catch her balance, I wrapped the shadows around myself then leapt upward. Wolves could leap extremely high—vampires even higher. I had the skills of both at my call, and landed with little effort on the thin edge of the stall wall. I took a moment to balance, then quietly stepped onto the top of the next stall, then the next, before easing lightly back down to the floor.

"Where the fuck has she gone?" There was a thump and a rattle as Nerida's fist hit the wail. "She's disappeared."

"That's impossible. She's probably just cowering in a corner." Exasperation edged Berna's voice. Maybe she was getting a little tired of her friend's actions.

And I had to wonder why they were wasting time thumping the walls rather than using their olfactory senses—hell, given I'd been with Kade in the hay and had then been surrounded in smoke and death, I'd have to be leaving one hell of a scent trail.

But I wasn't about to give either of them time to remember that option. Nor did I have much time left to contain them, as the scowling guard was probably already on his way back down.

Berna bent over and peered into the stall. I padded over, shook off the shadows, then grabbed a fistful of her short hair, yanking her back and up before thrusting her hard into the stall. She collided with Nerida and both hit the back wall, and there was a crack loud enough to suggest broken bones. They went down in a heap and stayed there. But the heated looks being flung my way suggested it wasn't because they were too hurt to move, but rather because any good soldier knows when to retreat in order to fight another day.

I crossed my arms and resumed questioning. "How did you set the gas off?"

Nerida swore as pulled her leg out from under Berna's rump. "Small incendiary device we snuck in."

I wasn't going to ask how they'd managed that, because given all the bags had been thoroughly searched, there was really only one place they could have hidden it. And I was mighty surprised Starr hadn't brought in measures to cater for such occurrences. Hell, I knew for a fact many of the cartel employed female assassins. A good amount of Directorate time was spent hunting down the bitches after they'd completed their bloody deeds.

"And you didn't ever stop to consider who else might be in the way of the explosion?"

Nerida's gaze met mine. "Not once I saw Moss."

Insane with revenge and blind because of it. Great. "And have you ever stopped to consider that the picture is way bigger than the piece you're concentrating on?"

"No."

"Then I suggest you fucking start, before you end up on the wrong end of someone else's revenge." I flicked on the light. "Moss, Merle, and Starr have destroyed more lives than you could ever imagine. Stop being so blinkered, start seeing what is really going on, and for God's sake don't blow anything else up. Or I'll have you taken out so fast your heads will spin."

I glanced down the corridor to see the guard headed our way again. And he looked even unhappier than he had the last time.

I leaned forward and grabbed my towel, soap, and the handkerchief. "Now, if you don't mind, ladies, I need to complete my shower."

I flung the towel over my shoulder and headed for the shower stall Nerida had originally used. It had a good line of sight via the mirrors, and while I needed to get clean, I wasn't fool enough to turn my back on either of them.

The guard stalked in as I stepped under the water. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Just a little disagreement," Berna muttered. "Nothing to worry about."

"It is when I'm wasting time coming down here to sort it out. You two, back to the rooms now. And you in the shower, hurry up."

Though the heat of the water did a lot to wash the smell of death from my skin, I didn't want to linger too long. That would only piss off the guard more and maybe bring our little scuffle to the attention of those higher up. So I washed and dried and meekly made my way back to my bed.

"No more," the guard said from the doorway, once I was settled, "or I'll report all of you."

I resisted the impulse to snap that we weren't kiddies—mainly because that impression was far better than the real reasons for the fight.

I waited until the guard had gone, then reached my hand under my wet towel and grabbed the handkerchief. "You dropped this earlier," I said, and tossed the scrap of cloth across to Nerida. "Don't do it again."

"Oh, I won't. You can be sure of that."

Meaning next time she would ensure there was no telltale signs were left behind. I blew out a breath and laced my fingers across my belly. After a while, their breathing grew slower—or in Berna's case, noisier—indicating they were slipping into sleep. Whether they actually were, or whether they were foxing, I couldn't say. But I wasn't about to let the desire to sleep overwhelm me, not with Berna's threat hanging over my head.

I Hipped off the sheets and headed out the door.

Voices and the growl of machinery rode the night, and lights now lit the far end of the house. Starr wasn't wasting time getting down to repairs, it seemed.

I headed in the opposite direction, getting as far away from the sounds and the smells as I could. But even deep in the trees, where the moonlight failed to pierce the thick canopy of leaves, the dead were with me.

And they wanted their revenge.

Chapter Eleven

I woke with a start, and to the realization I was not alone. I twisted around sharply. Quinn sat two feet away, his expression thoughtful as he leaned back against the gnarled trunk of an old pine, his arms crossed across his chest and long legs stretched out in front of him. He seemed little more than a shadow of the pine, even though the sun was still too low to cast such things this deep in the trees.

I rubbed my eyes and struggled into a sitting position. "What time is it?"

He glanced down at his watch. "Just after seven."

No wonder I felt like shit. I'd only had five hours' sleep, and after the last few fun-filled days, that just wasn't enough. "Why did you wake me?"

"I didn't. I was merely watching you."

Something had woken me, but I let the matter slip and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not that interesting when I sleep."

"Perhaps not, but you were at least quiet. A rare thing, I'm discovering."

I picked up a twig and flicked it at him. He smiled, and it rose to his eyes, briefly warming the night dark depths. Something deep inside sighed in pleasure. "Did you uncover anything interesting last night while following Moss?"

"Nothing other than the fact that he and Merle do not see eye to eye. You?"

I shrugged and told him about Nerida's mad quest.

"So you've warned her off?"

"Yes." I hesitated, then added, "But there's still a problem."

"What?"

"The dead want revenge." I paused again, mainly because I didn't want to sound like an idiot. But if there was one person who could help me understand what was going on, then surely it was Quinn. He was an empath and one of the dead. "I could feel them all around me last night, feel their anger and their need to get back at her."