Winning Glory

Winning Glory, GenTech Rebellion Book One

Teaser, First Two Chapters

Chapter One

Shadows surrounded Glory. The darkness provided some shielding, but she wanted more-lots more. Too bad invisibility wasn't an option. Her pulse thudded against her eardrums. Sweat formed a banner across her forehead and dripped into her eyes. They stung, and she cursed her human genetic base. When she'd been designed, why the hell hadn't they deep-sixed the annoying things like sweat and fear?

"Get moving!" Her Handler's voice pounded through her head, projected telepathically.

She started. In the midst of her ambivalence, she'd forgotten about the Handlers-also called Nameless Ones-lurking just outside her work area. This was her first real assignment, and they didn't trust her by herself. She blew out a wry breath. They'd probably never trust her, but she was useful.

A low growl followed the Handler's terse words. She scowled as the noise scraped across her preternaturally sharp senses. Glory wanted to balk, make a break for freedom, but it'd be pointless. They'd be on her so fast, she'd be lucky to buy herself an hour.

She gazed straight ahead, assessing her objective. The large office building in downtown Seattle's business district wasn't as deserted as she'd hoped. Lights shone from about a quarter of its windows. If she were fortunate, her target would be unoccupied, but she knew what to say if it wasn't.

No, I know what to do... Talking wasn't exactly on the table.

She sucked in a ragged breath, blew it out, and did it again. Her hair was pulled into a bun, its weight heavy on her neck, but at least it wouldn't come loose and obscure her vision if she had to move quickly.

The growl came again, and she shot forward, trying to walk as if she had every right to be on Pine Street at eleven at night. Unfamiliar high heels lent her an awkward rolling gait, and she pulled her skirt a little higher, so she could adjust her stride. When she'd complained about the black wool business suit and heels, she'd been told she had to look the part if she ran into anyone. She'd have practiced walking in the unfamiliar shoes, but the entire outfit had materialized-dropped in her dorm by a Handler-half an hour before she left her compound.

She fumbled a key card from her suit pocket with damp fingers and swiped it through a reader next to huge, double glass doors that opened onto a lavishly furnished lobby. Pink, white, and purple orchids, plush leather furniture, and glistening gray marble floors felt overwhelming after her spartan existence. After a pause that felt far too long, the scanner's red lights shifted to green, and the door's locking mechanism snicked softly.

Glory darted forward and felt a rush of air as the door swooshed shut behind her. She'd have to use the card to get out too, so she glanced sidelong to identify the reader's location on the lobby side. For long moments, she didn't see a thing, and her already rapid heart rate escalated, making her dizzy.

Doesn't matter. Head for the elevators. I can turn and look better from there.

A creaky grating stopped her cold, until an older, dark-skinned man dressed in a navy blue uniform came into view. He pushed a wheeled bucket with a mop sticking out of it. "Evening, ma'am." He dipped his chin toward her. "Late to be working, isn't it?"