White walls. Fluorescent lighting. Security cameras at regular intervals. But no guards. No alarms. No indication that anyone knew we were there.
"Sublevel 7," Maki reported, shifting back to human form. She stretched luxuriantly, apparently unconcerned by the danger. "The archives should be at the end of this hall. I smell paper and dust and something else. Something chemical. Preservation fluids, perhaps."
"Any guards?"
"One. Female. Approximately fifty meters ahead. Her heartbeat is elevated. She is either frightened or excited." Maki's lips curved into a predatory smile. "Perhaps both."
Helena Vasquez. Working late. Alone.
Just as the anonymous message had promised.
I approached the archive entrance with Maki dissolving into my shadow. The door was heavy steel with a biometric lock. The kind of security that would stop most intruders cold.
I knocked.
Silence. Then the sound of footsteps approaching. A voice from the other side, sharp with suspicion.
