Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

TRISTAN

One Week Earlier

W e called him Loki when he first arrived because he was tricky when playing with the other dogs, but the name has fit ever since. Now, three months after the raggedy Jack Russell terrier first arrived, he’s as clever as ever. I watch from my office on the second floor, looking down on the open-air play area. Moonlight shafts down.

“Good visibility,” I imagine Wilson or O’Connor saying, but that’s all long ago.

Loki sneaks along the edge of the area, then slides between a gate and a hatch that must be ever so slightly loose, even if I can’t see it from here. Then he crawls up a diagonal pipe, slipping twice but whining and pushing himself forward.

Clever little fella. He must be no older than three. He’s got the muscles of a full-grown dog, but he’s impulsive, young, wanting to dart out and make his way in the world. Ha. Those were the days. Back when all I had to do was shave my head and push my limits hard every day. Oor-rah. I wouldn’t trade them. Still, I prefer my current life.

Despite the darkness. But what would my life be, really, without some darkness anyway? Would I even know who I was?

Loki reaches the top window, and then—he seriously is clever, especially for a terrier breed—he nudges open the latch and sneaks into the night. I grin, shaking my head ruefully. I’m not even worried about him. That’s not why I quickly turn for the door, ready to follow. I’ll be able to track him via the sensors, and if he leaves the property, I’ll have eyes on him.

It’s more that I’m interested. What is this crazy little dog up to?

Taking out my electronic pad, I watch as his movement flashes toward the north exit. I quickly jog down the stairs and then hop on my run-around-town motorbike. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s quiet, and it gets me from point A to point B. Propping the pad on the handlebars, I follow Loki through the city.