Everything about Ciro’s stateroom doorway smelled wrong.

The sharp scent of non-humans stained the metal frame and the tight-locked door panel. I didn’t stare. I stopped and glanced along the empty promenade raised above the curved green swathe of parkland cultivated around a glistening lake. It was early and the other tourists still slept. Lucky them.

I should have been sleeping too. It’d been a long, uncomfortable journey to get to the INS Pagidion. Strapped into a high-speed shuttle was not my idea of fun. However, the Company said it was urgent, so I endured. It was better than being dead. I rubbed at my spine, still red with strap welts after six hours. Better. Just.

My room on the secondary sphere was sumptuous, the bed soft and yielding. Yet, I’d fixed my gaze on the mirrored ceiling and sleep eluded me. I can never sleep. Not really. And this was what I got when I couldn’t shut my eyes and not have my thoughts tearing in a wild rush through my head. I was stuck with an overactive nose, one that I couldn’t ignore.

I leant against the golden rail running along the promenade, my fingers tapping idly against the warmed metal. Just another tourist enjoying the view. With my back to the door, I stared up at the great curve of the Pagidion’s transparent hull. Space stared back; space filled with the bloated mass of a dying star.

I shivered. The damn thing made my skin crawl.

Pushing the fear away, I drew the scrubbed air deep into my lungs, letting instinct pick apart the individual scents. I closed my eyes. One of the ship’s menials had wiped down the door, five, no, six hours before. Underneath the sharp cut of cleaning fluid, I followed the trace of four individuals.

I probed deeper and winced. Two Lofn had completed a mating spray against the frame. The poor menial must have had a hard time scrubbing that crap off the metal. I was surprised the yowls hadn’t reached even my cabin buried in the secondary sphere. Another scent lay under the Lofn. Years of training and instinct deconstructed it. And it had me gripping the rail until my knuckles hurt. Before the Lofn had sprayed, a Mosaic had entered the room.

What the hell...? I was supposed to be the only Mosaic onboard. I took a deep breath, pulling in more of the scent, but the trail was too old. There was just the familiar hint of twisted DNA; a scent I carried too.

What was the Company playing at? They should have told me--

But then the last scent had me backing away. Everything in me screamed that I run, grab a shuttle and jump ship. Right now.

Abandon my post? I could count on my right hand how many hours the Company would let me live for betraying them.

I grabbed at the rail and forced my retreating body to stop.

I couldn’t name it, but something in that scent scraped raw the Mosaic in me. Shit, why did I have to be feline? Why couldn’t I have some solid bovine sewn into my human strands? Or porcine? I’d always envied their intelligence and their easy attitude towards food. No, my mix of ancestral DNA had to come from a particularly skittish and fussy series of cats.

I moved forward, each slow footstep dragging me closer to the door.

The scent of whatever-it-was burned through me. It was something acrid, with the harsh taste of rust. I pushed back my enhanced senses; buried them. My breathing eased. Calmed, I smoothed back my hair and straightened.

Something was in that cabin and another Mosaic had followed it in. Whether the Company was playing games or not, I had to do my job. I had to protect my mark, the Lord Admiral Sir Raoul Quinn, from every possible threat. Ciro's stateroom had to be investigated.

I checked the long curve of the promenade again. Still empty. No doubt the other passengers were in the process of struggling out of bed and dialing up their party cure-alls and cleansers. Ciro's name and company data scrolled above the pad in a repeating loop. All the damn doors had the same stream of personal information and the cat in me itched to chase the bright line of letters. I focused and slid my hand over the ident.pad, sensitive fingertips teasing out the lock.

With a hiss, the door panel parted, clunked and then eased back into the frame. The room beyond was empty, silent. I controlled the nervous cat within me and stepped inside.

It appeared to be just another stateroom. Wrought gold, vibrant carpets, strewn animal skins, priceless artefacts and furniture assaulted the senses in a wild rush. The displayed wealth was almost painful. Raoul Quinn had one that looked very much the same. He was staying in the suite next door. I’d stolen in to watch him sleeping. Not exactly a part of my brief--I was supposed to keep my distance--but the cat in me was curious about him. Damn feline genes. I should have stayed away. Quinn was...unpleasant.

I pulled my focus back. Nothing seemed out of place in Ciro’s stateroom. Edging past the same arrangement of lounging sofas and chairs grouped to take advantage of the view, I kept my eyes averted. The wall had a one way viewing system. No one could see in, but the occupant enjoyed a full view of the dying sun. I shuddered. I hated looking at that damn star; and now it was following me. I moved away, searching through the numerous rooms, but found only bedrooms and marble-rich bathrooms behind the closed doors.

“No one home,” I murmured and my voice echoed.

I took a deep breath and let the sympathetic shift of my feline genes settle over my senses. The golden surfaces gleamed bright and a dry prickle meant my eyes had lensed to compensate. The cabin was silent, broken only by the soft hum of the power streams through the metal walls. I stole a touch from the deep fur throw slung over the back of a sofa. Cool, soft and just so... Heat built in my chest and I willed down the urge to purr.

Lifting my head, I scented the air.

I drew in traces of the Mosaic. He... yes, male... smelt familiar. I frowned. That was the problem with our kind. Besides gender, our scent didn’t differentiate us. If it was there, even my sharp nose couldn’t detect it. And then there was the other scent. I clamped a hand to my mouth to stop the sharp hiss I wanted to spit against its rankness. My fingers arched into long claws, nails sharpening into points as the heat of the fight burned through me.

It was alien, but like no alien I had ever encountered before. Something about the smell said it was a living presence still in the room; and that was just insane. The stateroom was empty. Nothing was truly invisible. Mimetic, yes. Beyond touching, no. I let go of the shifting and wearily breathed out the last of it. I needed to sleep and hated the fact that I couldn’t. This bloody job had my nerves stretched. I was seeing a threat behind every door.

I turned to leave.

The dying star filled the wall. The damn thing probably attracted the bizarre and strange to it. Made people go crazy. And they called this stay on the Pagidion a ‘pleasure cruise.’ Yes, only the shockingly rich could enjoy this trip.

I palmed the panel. The door slid back and a stylishly dressed thug filled the frame. He blinked.

I smiled and watched his eyes glaze.

I had two skills from my genetic heritage. I was a hunter and like most female Mosaics, I gave off another scent, something that grabbed men by the hindbrain and negated all rational thought. It had its uses. Like then.

“I must have the wrong cabin.”

“Must you?”

He surged forward.

I sidestepped him.

His meaty hand gripped my arm and then something odd happened. The mist of lust faded and a darker emotion replaced it. “Nosy aren’t you, little cat.”

The panic of that statement almost had me shifting right in front of him. How the hell could he know? Mosiacs weren’t exactly common knowledge; in fact we were positively illegal.

“Aren’t you going to deny it? Give me the standard answer, ‘genetic manipulation was outlawed four centuries ago’?” His skin burned against mine, the grip tightening. He breathed in and his eyes darkened further. “But I can smell the blue lynx, the caracel and a... tabby.” A wry smile pulled at his mouth. “The little domestic cat that gives you stripes across your breasts when you shift.” His free hand brushed over the shell of my ear. “Though with your heritage, I would expect something here.”

Who the hell was this man?

“Nothing to say?”

His fingers scorched my bare arm, branding my skin. A red flush fired under his cheeks and the veins formed a darkened network across his jaw. His arm started to shake. “Well, little cat?”

I wrenched myself free.

He stumbled back. For a moment, his gaze cleared and terror whipped through the man’s eyes. “Help me. It’s inside me.” The words were no more than a croak and then he dropped to the floor. Blood foamed from his mouth as his limbs thrashed. He choked. His eyes rolled back and he stopped moving. Seconds. It had only taken seconds.

The cat in me wanted to climb something high and hide there. I grabbed that urge by the scruff and inched closer, expecting a hand to shoot out and grab me. But it didn’t. He lay there in a large crumpled heap, his face pale and sprayed with his own blood. I leaned in. He wasn’t breathing and I swore under my breath. I could not be caught with a body.

Slamming the panic alarm on the door panel, I ran.

* * * *

How I got back to my cabin was a blur.

The door clunked shut behind me. I fell back against it and closed my eyes.

What had just happened? He’d known everything about me. Everything. And that was impossible. Doubly impossible. The Company protected my information. Hid me so that I could work effectively without the complication of the authorities knowing my illegal gene manipulation.

I pushed away from the door. Whatever had happened, my cover was blown. The Company had to extract me.

Pressing the receptor below my left ear, I waited for the sharp whine to die away. More of the Company’s paranoia. My receptor also scanned for and disabled shadow-ware devices. “Charis Sur calling home.”

“Charis?”

I held back a sigh. Yes, my handler was annoyed. But then I shouldn’t have contacted Aud Sebak before the end of the mission. “Pull me out.”

“Now isn’t the time for your sense of humour.”

“‘My last handler was a joy to work with.’ That’s my sense of humour. See? Different. I need extraction. Someone just listed my genome.” I dragged my bag out from under the bed and flopped it onto the deep mattress. There wasn’t much to pack. My employer had provided me with enough credit to maintain the illusion of being one of the ultra-wealthy passengers of the Pagidion, which would provide my every need. Supposedly. Aud was silent. For that I was grateful. I hated the implant. It jarred my teeth.

“You’re serious.”

“Yes, Aud, I’m serious. He said exactly what I was; then slumped. I hit the panic alarm. But he’s dead.”

“Dead?”

I padded into the bathroom. “Purple and dead.”

“Charis...”

“It’s time to get out. Just tell me how.”

I stared at my reflection in the long mirror over the sink, waiting for Aud’s instructions. My fingertip traced over my ear, following the path he’d taken. He was right. The images of my ancestors had fur-knotted ears. How could he know what I was so exactly?

And where was Aud? Breaking me out of a soured mission didn’t take that long to co-ordinate. I frowned and watched my mouth crease. Long silences usually meant something was screwed. Usually me. At least I was in this mess with Aud Sebak. She’d been my handler for a few months. The last one? I was grateful that he was out of my life.

I gathered my toiletries and headed back to the bedroom. It would be a relief to get off the Pagidion. A cruise on a luxury liner that was waiting for a sun to explode was not relaxing despite what the brochure said.

“Charis?”

I pulled the clasps shut on my case and ident.locked them. “Not gone anywhere, Aud.” She’d paused. Yes, Aud was about to deliver bad news. “All right, why aren’t I leaving?”

“Your man was a entrepreneur, Alano Ciro, from Elberion. He suffered an embolism. They’ve already packed him up. He’ll be spaced tomorrow. And you? You’re staying.”

I sank into the mattress. “What’s going on, Aud? Quinn can’t be this important to the Company. Not important enough to risk exposure by spacing a wealthy, an influential man.”

“Orders only, Charis. You know that.”

A wry smile tugged at my mouth. “It’s the cat in me. I can’t help the curiosity.”

Aud’s soft laughter tickled my skin. “Lord Admiral Quinn has to be alive when the sun goes nova. Ensure that outcome in whatever way possible.”

“Understood.” I pinched at the bridge of my nose. “But not liked.”

“It’s the job, Charis.”

“Yes, it is.” The receptor buzzed, cutting the link. I let out a slow breath and circled the skin covering the device. Flopping back onto the mattress, I stared up at my reflection.

Ciro hadn’t died of an embolism. Something, no someone else had been looking out of his eyes. I pushed myself off the bed, stood before the bathroom mirror and did something the Company disallowed. They didn’t want us examining our abilities in private. Shifting was for work only. I still had the scars from practising my shifts in my tiny dorm room.

So I let myself shift. Lights glared and the harsh scent of the auto-cleaner burned my nostrils. I flexed my hands. Nails grew and changed. But it was my face that held my attention. The same smoothly blunt features reflected in the long mirror, short hair curling around my neck and tipped with silver. My eyes, normally a pale blue had darkened. I stepped back and hit the wall of the shower cubicle. Ciro’s eyes. They had changed; just like mine.

I shook off the shift and the weariness of it bit down through my bones. Staring out of the small window, I found only the baleful glare of the red giant. What was going on? None of this made any sense.

The man who had died in front of me was one of my own. Ciro was a Mosaic. So did that make three of us?