Fuck was the only word that came immediately to mind, and even that didn't really encompass the shitload of trouble that had just raised its ugly head. Or, given it was Gautier we were talking about, maybe that should have been its greasy, stinking, ugly head.

"Well, at least that explains where Gautier has disappeared to on the few occasions we've lost him," Jack commented. "But it doesn't change our plans. Liander's work is subtle, but good. I doubt he'd recognize either of you."

Maybe not by sight, but if I opened my mouth and started throwing barbs his way, like I normally did, he'd certainly suspect. There weren't many people as stupid as I tended to be when he was around.

"All you have to do," Jack continued, "is keep out of his way, and keep your mouth shut. And that's an order, not a suggestion."

One I'd definitely try to obey. Gautier had already beaten up on me - I had no intention of giving him a second chance. Especially in a place where there was no one to save my ass at the last moment.

"So," I said to Dia, "how often does he appear there?"

She shrugged. "Only very occasionally. Starr does not wish him to be seen or recognized."

"He's a guardian - they work at night. I doubt any of Starr's regulars would recognize him."

Her smile was grim. "There are politicians who have access to files. Starr doesn't want to take the risk because he believes Gautier's position at the Directorate is unknown and safe."

Then yay us for keeping our knowledge of him a secret.

"Is he one of Starr's lovers?" Somehow, I just couldn't imagine Gautier being homosexual. Though, I couldn't actually imagine him making love to women, either. He'd always seemed asexual to me.

"No. Starr uses him as an occasional form of punishment - do something seriously wrong, and you fight Gautier." She hesitated. "No one has ever beaten him."

No surprise there. The man was a stinking fighting machine. "Does he kill them?"

"Always. It is what he does."

Wasn't that the truth. "Is he expected anywhere near the place over the next couple of weeks?"

"Unless something dramatic happens, no. There's too many people going to be around. I doubt he'd take the chance of exposure."

Good. Because I didn't want to be anywhere near the bastard, disguise or no. "Anything else I need to know before I board the bus this afternoon?"

She hesitated. "There will be eleven other women with you, all either shifters or weres. At least one of them is not who she pretends to be."

I raised my eyebrows. "Another plant?"

"No. She wants revenge."

Then maybe I could enlist her help sometime over the next few weeks. "Who?"

Dia smiled. "That I shall let you figure out yourself. I'd hate to influence your instincts."

"Meaning you're not entirely sure of your own guesses?"

"Meaning, I cannot say whether she will be a help or a hindrance to what either of us want."

Uh-huh. Typical psychic avoidance of the question if ever I'd heard it. "Why only twelve of us?"

"Because three women stayed on after the last moon dance."

"Why only three? I would have thought the money would be enticement enough to stay longer."

"I honestly don't know. Perhaps they simply wish to go home."

Or perhaps there was more going on behind the scenes than Dia was aware of. "Will it be safe to talk to you once you arrive at the estate?"

"In the house, no. As I said, there are voice monitors in the halls. But I will endeavor to be outside whenever possible. I have made it a habit to wander the grounds, so Starr will not think it unusual."

"There's nothing else?"

"Not that I can immediately think of."

"Good." I half held out my hand, then dropped it. Not because she couldn't see the action, but because she might do another reading. I had a feeling I wouldn't like what she might see. "I'll see you there, then."

She simply nodded. I flung the backpack over my shoulder and escorted myself out. I'd barely made it through the wrought iron gates when a black van cruised up beside me, the side door opening even as I looked up.

"Get in," Jack ordered, both in my ear and out loud.

I did. As the van cruised on, Jack swiveled away from a bank of com-screens and monitors that lined one wall of the van and held out a hand. I gave him the notebook and contract.

"This is a bit of a risk, isn't it?" I plonked down on the other swivel chair and scanned the monitors. They were showing nothing more than fences, trees, and a long expanse of lawn.

"Dia knows who we are. And if what she said about Starr holding her daughter hostage is true, then he has no need to monitor her when she is not at the estate. Nor have we found any evidence of it."

Didn't mean there wasn't. If Starr knew about the Fravardin, what was to stop him creating similar creatures for his own use? I watched Jack flick through the notebook's pages, then asked, "Anything useful?"

He looked up, then gave me back the book. "Lots. Memorize it, then I can arrange to get the information to Kade and Rhoan."

I raised my eyebrows. "How? Neither of them are telepathic."

"No. But we currently have use of the seconded hawk-shifters, and only the fence line is fully monitored."

Which is basically what Dia had said. I nodded toward the monitors. "That the estate?"

"Yes. We're trying to get cameras closer to the house, but they're doing regular checks and it's making it extremely difficult."

I raised my eyebrows. "Stepping up security because he's called all his generals in?"

"I suspect so. After all, what better time would there be for another cartel to strike?"

"Given what Dia said about the vampire attack, he may be installing infrared, also." Which would put a serious dent in my nightly activities. I could shadow as well as any vampire, but infrared would pick up my heat trail.

"We're monitoring the infrared companies. So far, no order has been placed."

"What about the black market?"

"The devices can certainly be bought, but installation requires specialist knowledge, and there are only a dozen or so qualified people in Melbourne." He pointed to the notebook. "Start memorizing."

He went through the work agreement as I studied the notebook. Starr's estate consisted of over fifty acres of forest and paddocks. The house itself was a huge, square-shaped, double-story complex that featured not only a soccer field sized arena in the middle of the square, but an Olympic sized pool and a huge gym complex. Set apart from the main building were several smaller ones, including quarters for security and the prostitutes. The barn and the zoo were on the opposite side of the complex to these. Behind them was a manmade lake apparently big enough to yacht on.

"Standard work agreement," Jack said, after a while.

"The only interesting point is agreeing to have your memories 'rearranged' when you leave."

"Which is what is happening to the whores."

He nodded and glanced at his watch. "We'll drop you off near the meeting point at one. That gives you an hour to read the rest of the notes as well as the contract."

So I read and memorized while he studied the banks of monitors. What he was looking for I had no idea, especially since there didn't seem to be a lot happening on them. At one, they dropped me off at a Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet. Obviously, he'd heard my stomach rumbling. Either that, or it was a last meal for the doomed. I grabbed a dinner for two - once again thanking my lucky stars that a werewolf's increased metabolic rate made it almost impossible for me to gain weight once I'd hit adulthood - then headed down to the meeting point to see who else might be waiting.

Three women were already there. Two were sullen excuses of womanhood, thin and rangy looking - in that long distance runner sort of way. The third was taller, broader, with spiky, bleached-blonde hair and sharp blue eyes. She had tats up her arms and trouble written all over her sharp features. I would have categorized her as punk, except for the way she stood. It wasn't the typical, bite me or fight me stance that so many of the street kids in need of an attitude adjustment had, but rather that of someone who fought for a living. Light on her toes.

I gave her a nod, ignored the other two, and sat on a nearby brick fence to eat my chicken. Animosity rode the air, coming from the direction of the rangy chicks rather than the toey one, but neither of them said anything as other women began to roll up. By two, we had a full complement, and a good cross-reference of shapes, colors, and race. I didn't see another werewolf, but there were werecats, a bear-shifter, bird-shifters, and a sly-looking woman with red hair and reddish skin who surely had to be a werefox. The arena was going to be interesting, to say the least.

The bus rolled in about five minutes after the last woman had arrived, and a big man with slate gray hair climbed off. "Okay, ladies," he bellowed, in a drill sergeant tone. "When I read your name, you will board the bus."

He began snapping off names, and like obedient little soldiers, we rose and entered the bus. I hesitated on the top step, my gaze sweeping the semidarkness. There were plenty of empty seats, but most of the women already aboard had chosen to sit near the back. The bear-shifter sat about halfway down, her large frame barely squeezing into the seat. Her gaze, when it met mine, was challenging, as if daring me to sit with her, so I walked down the aisle and plonked down on the scat opposite hers.

"The little wolf is game," she said, her voice a rumble that seemed to come from somewhere deep. "Most of the others seemed a little afraid to come close."

"The wolf is only little compared to some." I made a show of looking her up and down. She was a big woman - in all ways - but the crow's-feet touching the corners of her brown eyes, along with the dimples in her cherub cheeks, suggested a good nature that was at odds with the attitude she was projecting and the fierce reputation bear-shifters had. "But with mitts like that, you can hardly blame them. I think they should be labeled an unfair advantage."

She laughed - a booming, merry sound that had me grinning. "You could be right there, wolf." She leaned forward and offered me one of her oversized paws. "Bernadine. Berna to my friends."

"Poppy." I grinned as her hand wrapped around mine. Though her grip was strong, it wasn't menacing or testing. A woman confident in her own strength and not needing to advertise the fact to others. "Pencil me in as a friend, Berna. I've got a feeling it could get dangerous to be considered anything else."

"And you might have that right, too, wolf." She grinned. "Sorry, but Poppy just doesn't seem to suit you."

"It's not a moniker I would have chosen, but my parents didn't exactly give me the choice." Nor did my goddamn boss.

The two sullen-looking women climbed on board, hesitating as I had on the top step as their gazes swept the bus. Both sneered when their gaze came to rest on me, then they turned as one and sat two seats in from the front of the bus.

Berna gave me an amused glance. "Are we taking bets on the fact that they're twins?"

"Twins don't echo each other's movements like those two do." Hell, my brother would kill me if I started parroting his movements like that. "The sync of those two is almost creepy."

"Which is why I bet twins. Separated at birth."

"Or they're just plain weird."

She chuckled. "I think we're all weird. After all, here we are, sitting on a bus, waiting to be taken to God knows where."

"The money made me do it."

"Me, too. Have to wonder about some of the others, though."

Military guy climbed on at that point, cutting off the immediate chance to ask what she meant. As the doors swished shut, he said, "Okay, ladies, listen up." He waited until the slight murmur of conversation died, then continued, "As you will have noted in your contracts, the owner of the estate you are being driven to wishes to keep its location secret, so the windows will be blacked out in a moment and a curtain pulled across the front of the bus. The interior of the bus will be monitored, however, and anyone caught attempting to look out the windows will lose their position."

"I can't remember any mention of paranoia in the contract," I muttered.

Berna snorted softly. Military guy gave me a glare. "You have read and signed the contract, have you not?"

"I have."

"Then you will know backchat is not acceptable."

"And if you have read my file, you will know that is one of my more charming personality traits."

"Riley, shut the fuck up," Jack said into my ear. "You do not need to be shoved off the bus just yet."

I bit my bottom lip to restrain my grin and wished I could remind him that he was the one who'd made Poppy the mouth, not me.

Military guy's expression was less than happy. "Insolence may be good for the ring, but it will lose you money out of it."

"You'd dock my pay?"

"It was in the contract."

"Bugger. Guess I should have read it better."

His frown darkened, but his gaze moved on. Several of the woman sitting in the back of the bus shifted uncomfortably, and I wondered whether the cause was military guy's fearsome gaze or the realization they might have gotten themselves into more than they bargained for. Certainly I could "feel" concern in the air - and the mere fact that I was sensing that was a cause of concern for me. Since when had I been able to sense emotions? I'd always been able to sense Quinn's, true, but that was due to the extraordinary connection between us... wasn't it?

"Those of you who have read the contract" - the emphasis left me in no doubt who that particular comment was aimed at, but then, it didn't exactly take a rocket scientist to work that out - "will no doubt be aware that there is one final test on reaching the estate - an obstacle course. If you do not complete this course, you will fail and be returned to the pickup point. If you shift shape during the course, you will also fail."

"Why no shapeshifting?" I piped up.

He gave me a deadpan look. "Because that is the wishes of your new employer."

"So why employ shifters and weres if you don't want them to shift?"

"Why don't you just shut up before I stop this bus and boot you out?"

I shut up.

"Those who make it through the obstacle course will be prepared for the arena. It is hand-to-hand fighting, with some wooden weapons allowed. The winner gets a substantial monetary bonus, and will spend the night with my employer's lieutenants. This is not negotiable, and anyone uncomfortable with this can leave now."

He aimed that last bit at me, though why was anyone's guess. Poppy was supposed to be half-wolf, and wolves didn't place the same sort of emphasis on sex that many of the other races did. It was just sex, something to be shared and enjoyed rather than hidden behind closed doors and puritanical attitudes.

When I kept my mouth shut, he went on, "Any injuries received in the arena will be tended to by the contestant. Failure to show up in the arena due to injury will result in the loss of that night's pay."

These boys were all heart.

"There are two areas out of bounds for all contestants," military guy continued. "The zoo, which no one shall enter without proper guidance, and basement levels which contain my employer's personal quarters."

It also contained the small lab area, which meant getting to Dia's daughter without being seen was going to be doubly hard.

"Anyone found in my employer's quarters, for any reason beyond a personal invite, will be instantly dismissed."

No mention there of being returned home. I had a bad feeling that wasn't actually an option under those circumstances.

He glanced at his watch, then added, "We are now going to black out the bus. It'll take approximately one hour to get to the estate. Until then, please sit back and enjoy the ride."

I snorted softly as darkness fell within the bus. "Yeah, I always enjoy riding into parts unknown in a pitch-black bus."

"And I came out of hibernation not so long ago, so black places are not on my list of favorite things at the moment."

I raised my eyebrows. "A bear who doesn't like the dark?"

"Oh, I have no problem with the dark, wolf. I just don't like being in it when there's no real need."

"So you sleep with the light on?"

She snorted. "Of course not. Nor do I make love with the light on. The wobbly bits look better in the dark."

I grinned. "And if you don't like the look of your partner, it's easier to imagine you're with someone else."

"Hell, yeah." She paused. "So what do you think this is really all about?"

I shrugged, and half-wondered why she was asking that question. I mean, she had no idea who was listening in or who I really was. For all she knew, I might be here to sort out any possible spies. But then, bear-shifters, for all their fearsome attitudes, also had a reputation for brutal honesty. Maybe she simply thought that because I was here, in the middle of the bus, that I was trustworthy.

Or maybe she was the plant.

But for some reason, I thought not - and I have no idea why, other than the fact that I liked her. Considering my low batting average of late when it came to picking friends, I really should be taking that as a sign to be more cautious around her.

"I think we have a rich, eccentric recluse who likes to show off to his friends by throwing wild sex parties."

"But the arena? I like fighting, don't get me wrong, but this seems a little more serious than the stuff I usually do."

"You fight for a living?"

"I'm a wrestler by trade."

Well, she certainly had the size for it. And though I'd never seen a bear-shifter in action, she probably had the speed, as well. Real bears could certainly move damn fast, for all their bulk. "There's a fair bit of money in that, isn't there?"

"If you're good. I don't make half as much as Ginny."

I frowned, "Who's Ginny?"

"The tat lady. You must have noticed her in the line earlier."

Ah - the light-on-her-toes woman. I'd been right. She did fight for a living. "So you know each other?"

"We work the same circuit."

Which could have meant anything from they were the best of friends to mortal enemies.

"You're both out of work at the moment, then?"

"No. But for me, this otter is just too good to refuse. It'll give me some decent fall-back money. I might even be able to buy myself somewhere to live." She paused. In the brief silence, I heard the squeak of seats as the other women moved. None of them were talking. Maybe they were riveted by our conversation.

"So what were you up to when they recruited you, wolf?"

"I've only just come down from Sydney."

"Why?"

"Things got a little heated up there for me. Thought retreat was better than ending up sitting behind cell bars."

She didn't say anything, but there was suddenly a decided chill coming from her direction. "Anything major?"

"Just getting a little light-fingered in the wrong place."

"A thief."

She said it in a flat-toned, disapproving sort of way. Not surprising, given the brutally honest tendencies of her race. But her tone also suggested I'd just lost a potential friend. That was sad, because I generally found it hard to make friends, and things had, up until that moment, seemed hopeful.

"When I need to be." I shrugged. "A girl's got to live."

"A girl can get a regular job."

"I do. They always fire me."

"I'm not surprised if you're light-fingered."

I didn't say anything to that, and she lapsed into silence. The rest of the journey seemed to take forever, but eventually the blackout was lifted, revealing a long white driveway that was lined with elms. It led up to a white-pillared house that looked as if it belonged somewhere in the deep south of America - only it was far, far larger than any of those southern mansions. The "wows" that suddenly filled the bus were echoed by me, even though I'd already seen the floor plans. Obviously, crime paid extremely well.

The bus didn't stop at the front of the place, but turned to the right and headed toward the rear. I studied the gardens and paddocks rather than craning my neck to view the building like everyone else, and managed to catch a glimpse of several bunkhouses, including one that was fenced by wire. The whorehouse, probably. And if you had to live in a whorehouse, then this was the type to go for. It was a miniature replica of the main house, with lush landscaping and its own small pool. Still, given the wire fencing and the cameras mounted on each corner, I was damn glad we hadn't followed our original plan. Getting out of that place on a regular basis would have been hell.

The bus came to a halt around the back of the house and military guy stood up. "As I read your name, you will leave the bus and walk over to the red door. From there, you will enter and complete the obstacle course. Depending on whether you pass or fail, you will be led to either your quarters or returned to the bus. Is that understood ?"

We dutifully nodded, and he said, "Nerida Smith."

The fox-shifter stood and marched off the bus. As she neared the red door, it opened. She went through and the door closed behind her. Though I listened hard, I could hear no sound coming from behind the door. Whatever was happening inside was quiet. Either that, or the house was extremely well soundproofed.

The twins were next, then a dark skinned woman who looked extremely fragile. About five seconds after she'd entered, I heard the screams - high and frightened. Military guy looked down at his folder and ran his pen across the page. Our first failure.

Ginny, the tat lady, was next, then Berna. "Good luck," I said, as she rose.

She gave me a tight sort of nod that spoke of nerves more than a reluctance to acknowledge me, and headed out of the bus. No screams came from either woman, which I guess meant they'd passed. A blonde went next, and she also failed.

"And the lucky last," he said eventually, "The mouthy werewolf."

I stood. "I guess you're meaning me."

He pointed toward the red door with his pen. "Let's see how sassy you get in there."

"Obstacle courses don't scare me."

His sudden grin held a decidedly nasty edge. "Oh, this one might."

And wasn't that something to look forward to. I jumped off the bus and headed for the door. "Going into the house," I murmured. "Turning off sound until I'm sure it's safe."

"Luck, Riley."

"Thanks."

I lightly pressed the com-link to switch it to off, then took a deep breath as the red door opened. The room inside was long and shadowed, and filled with varying stacks of boxes. I looked up as I went through the doorway, noting there was no door sensor on the inside of the frame. Meaning this particular exit was one way only. Cameras lined the roof at regular intervals, so someone was monitoring everything that happened between this door and the exit.

I wondered if they'd intervene if things got nasty.

The door began to swing shut automatically. I stopped on the small landing and sniffed the air. There was nothing more than age and dust to be smelled, but that didn't mean the room was empty. Awareness tingled across my senses, a warning that there were several other non-humans hiding within the maze of boxes - and one of them was a vampire.

The door clicked shut, then the lights went off, leaving a darkness that was blacker and thicker than night. I blinked, switching to the infrared of my vampire sight. An unfair advantage, but then, who said I had to play fair?

Whisper soft steps rode the stillness. I glanced to my left - not because that was where the footsteps were coming from, but because someone was hiding there. I couldn't see them - they had to be hiding behind some sort of metal because I wasn't seeing their heat signature. But their presence itched at my skin, as irritating as sand caught in a shoe.

I ignored the stairs, leapt over the railing, and dropped lightly to the floor. The footsteps stopped. For several seconds there was no sound other than the light rasp of my breathing. Then the red heat of a body flickered across the darkness, moving from one pile of boxes to another. Not the vampire, but some other nonhuman. I wasn't getting specifics, which made me wonder if they had some sort of psi-deadeners installed in the room.

I undid my buckle, then pulled the belt out from around my waist and held the two ends lightly in one hand. I didn't want either the people in this room, or those who were watching, to realize exactly what I could do, so using the spider-shaped buckle as a weapon might just deflect from the fact that I was faster and stronger than any half-breed should be.

I moved forward to the first line of boxes. Movement stirred the air, not footsteps but something else. Something that was arcing toward my head with deadly force. I dropped and lashed the buckle across the darkness. It hit something solid, and a man grunted. I followed the soft sound and dove forward, tackling the person I couldn't see with infrared at knee height and bringing him down. His head hit the concrete with a sizeable crack, and he didn't move. And he still wasn't visible, even though he was solid to the touch. A spirit lizard, probably. The one I'd killed after he'd assassinated Roberta Whitby - the sister Starr had wanted out of the way - had been little more than an outline, a figure who had a basic shape but no distinct features.

I didn't bother checking whether he was okay - just felt along his arms until I found the weapon he'd been holding. Nunchakus. The bastard could have taken my head off - and it probably explained the screams I'd heard earlier. The two women had been caught unawares by the black thing that had virtually no heat signature and no smell.

After grabbing the weapon with my free hand, I moved back to the boxes and squatted down. Footsteps whispered across the silence again, this time from behind me. I padded forward, away from the steps, keeping low until I reached the end of the line of boxes. I felt for the top, noting that while it was high, it was still within my leap range, then threw the nunchakus as far and as high as I could. As they whirled through the air, I leapt on top of the box and made my way silently back along the top of them.

Tension filled the air, coming from the creature who was almost directly below me. The nunchakus hit something with a God-awful clatter, but no one reacted. Then again, the two men left in the room were, at the very least, professionals, and not likely to be scared senseless by an unexpected noise. I waited, watching the heat of the man below me until he finally began to creep around the end of the box.

I unrolled the belt, flicking the buckle end toward the back of his head. It hit hard, and he went down the same way.

One to go.

And I couldn't see him. Or rather, couldn't see the heat of him. Either he was hiding behind something toward the end of the room, or, like the black thing I'd felled, he was somehow invisible to infrared.

I jumped back down to the floor and walked across to the wall. There was no sense in trying to be quiet, as the person ahead was some sort of vampire, and he'd hear the beat of my heart no matter how quiet the rest of me was. But with my back to the wall, at least I cut off one avenue of attack.

The air stirred, washing the faint stink of vampire across my nose. This one obviously washed more than Gautier, but I was betting the closer I got to him, the more he'd reek. One of these days the morons were going to wake up to the fact that their refusal to wash was making them easy prey for those of us who hunted by scent, and I'd be in serious trouble. Hell, the only reason I knew Gautier was around most times was thanks to his ungodly stink.

The stirring air told me that this vamp was on the move. I kept making my way along the wall, moving past the stacks of boxes as quickly as I could. The vampire was in the center aisle between the two rows, moving back as I moved forward. Tension rolled through me - not fear, just a need to get this over with.

His move, when it came, was quick. So quick I didn't even see him, just got the faintest whiff of approaching death, then felt the force of his blow as it hit my chin. I reeled backward and half-fell, smashing my knee into concrete with enough force to bring on tears. Then he was on me, a whirlwind of strength and energy, his blows crashing into my body, my arms - anywhere and everywhere. After throwing up my right arm to block some of his punches, I flipped the belt buckle into my other palm and wrapped my fingers between the spider's metal legs, so that they stuck out like vicious little daggers. Then I punched hard and low. He obviously realized my intent, but he wasn't half as fast as he should have been. My blow drove deep into his dangly bits, and he dropped like a stone, wheezing for air and writhing in pain.

I took a shaky breath, then rose and replaced my belt. The lights came back on, and the door at the other end of the room clicked open. I remained near the wall until the last moment, just in case it was a trick, but no one jumped out at me.

I was barely out of the room when the stink of a vampire curled around me, so thick, so putrid, I gagged.

Only it wasn't just any vampire.

It was Gautier.