As the opening chords filled the room, he stepped close and began to paw her inexpertly. He was awkward and focused on his own needs, hardly surprising in a man so wrapped up in his work that he had little time for people. She slid deftly from his embrace, but left him a caress as a promise. “Whoa. Slow down. This is our first time, and I want it to be special. I need to use the powder room.”

“I like you fine the way you are.” Frustration and want filled his voice.

“You won’t like it if I pee all over you. My bladder’s a tad bit too full. I don’t want any distractions.”

His fastidiousness forced a grimace onto his face, It didn’t last long, as the booze-fueled lust reasserted itself. “Go on then. I’ll be ready.”

He was unbuttoning his shirt before she entered the bathroom. She palmed the doorpad and caught the panel as soon as it slid open enough for her to squeeze through. She threw him a promissory kiss and closed the door behind her before tapping the light switch. The room was enormous, bigger than the apartment she maintained in Bellevue, but she paid no attention to the lustrous marble and gleaming metal. She only had eyes for the body that lay on the floor, naked save for a single datajack. The androgynous form lay pale and hairless on the tiles, obscene as a slug on a dinner plate. It didn’t look like the predator it was designed to be.

Hart knelt and satisfied herself that it was still breathing. The whole operation would be a loss if the thing had an abreaction to the drugs in its system. The ground team had dosed it with the stuff to activate it. Something in that compound was also supposed to keep it anesthetized until she administered a stimulant, but she was wary of such a bastardized creation of science and magic. She had seen the stats on the thing and wasn’t sure that she trusted Wilson’s assurances that its activation would follow a strict timetable.

Living things rarely performed as precisely as machines. The last thing she needed was for it to awaken before it could be focused on its target, leaving it to fixate on her instead.

She stood up and began stripping off her dress. It was far too expensive to risk in any rough play. The necklaces and dangling jewelry came off, too, following the rest into a black satchel waiting on the vanity. Clad only in her underclothes and boots, she addressed the microphones she knew were listening to the room.

“Jenny?”

“Yes, boss.” Jenny’s voice came instantly from the bathroom’s Sound system speaker.

“Are you all set?” Hart took a black case from the satchel, opened it, and laid it on the vanity.

“Aces on this end, boss. The Matrix is clear. When you showed up in the corridor, I took control of the local locks and started feeding security a static image. Both your suite and next door look empty to the guys on the monitor consoles. They don’t know we’re here.”

“How are our hirelings doing?” She removed a syringe from the bag and affixed the injector cartridge.

“Pretty good. Kurt’s just gotten the bird in the air. Chin Lee is waiting on the go signal, but your locals aren’t showing much discipline next door. Greta’s into the booze and Sloan’s auditioning chips.”

“Damned amateurs,” Hart popped the needle’s protector cap into the case. “Adjust the room’s inventory to cover what they take and stay on the mikes. I want you listening. If this blows up, tell Tessien to wait at least a week before it goes after Drake.”

“Will do, boss.”

Hart turned to kneel again at the side of the pale figure. It barely quivered as she stabbed the needle into its jugular vein, then emptied the amber fluid into the thing’s bloodstream. Rising, she swiftly replaced the syringe in its case and returned the case to the satchel. As she tapped the switch to plunge the bathroom into darkness, she said aloud, “Open the door in ten seconds, Jenny.”

“Roger,” came the disembodied voice. Hart shivered, but it was more than the chill of half-nakedness Even Jenny’s familiar voice had an eerie quality now that she was alone in the dark with the thing. She wished there had been time to don the uniform in the satchel, but any delay risked Mr. Target getting suspicious. She stepped into the shower stall and slid the panel shut. She sat on the tub’s edge and leaned against the cool tiles. Out of sight, out of mind, Wilson had said. She hoped he was right.

As Hart began a breathing routine that would calm her and make her presence negligible to ordinary senses, she heard a scrabbling in the darkness. Drek! The thing was awake, but the doorway to its intended victim wasn’t open yet! Either the drug had cancelled the effect of the soporific too fast, or its metabolism was faster than Wilson thought. Either way, she was in trouble unless the bathroom door opened soon.

As if on cue, the door buzzed softly. The panel slid open a crack, then jammed. The creature tensed. Jenny’s curse was a burst of static on the room’s speaker. The pallid hunter ignored the sound and remained rigidly alert.

The light that spilled through the crack was not enough to illuminate the entire bathroom, but it was enough for Hart’s eyes to discern the crouched shape in the center. The body still tacked muscular definition, but there was no mistaking it for anything but a predator now. Its nostrils distended as it swung its head back and forth. The arcs shortened until it was staring at the shower stall. Its lips curled back, revealing a ridge of undifferentiated ivory. Its eyes seemed to glow with a lambent green light as it took a tentative step toward her hiding place.

“Kathy?”

The hunter’s body froze while its head whipped around at Mr. Target’s voice. For a moment nothing happened. Then, apparently deciding that Hart’s nearer presence marked a more assured victim than some distant voice, it refocused its attention on the shower stall and took another step forward.

She considered her options. If she tried a spell, the thing would be on her before she could finish. Her gun was still in the satchel and the thing was between her and the vanity. The only weapon she had was the knife in her right boot. She slid her hand down and closed it on the familiar hilt. Fifteen centimeters of steel weren’t going to be much against this thing, but she had to try. If she could wound it and make it back off, that might win her enough time to get off a spell. Or at least buy her a chance to reach her gun and settle it. The plan would go to hell, but all that seemed far away at the moment.

The thing pressed its wan hand against the translucent plastic of the stall’s sliding panel. Hart tensed, readying her knife thrust. She hadn’t dared shift her body, so she was ill-positioned for a sure strike. The only advantage she had was that the thing seemed somewhat unsure of her presence. If it were more certain, it would be moving faster. Even with surprise on her side, Hart knew she would get only one chance. It was far too quick for her.

The panel bulged slightly as the creature put pressure on it. The soft flesh of its hand spread flat against the plastic. Slowly the panel began to slide.