“Who?” Peri asked, and Bill pressed his lips together. A man’s fast steps sounded in the hall, and he turned as one of the night security at Opti Health slid to a halt. Why are we at Opti Health? she wondered, no longer believing Jack’s story about walking into a wall.

“Sir, we can’t find her,” Harry said, gaze flicking to Peri and back to Bill. “There’s no trace, and the camera’s aren’t working. They’re all stuck on a five-minute loop.”

“A what?” Bill exclaimed. “How?” he added, quickly turning on a heel and stomping away, Harry hunched and apologetic at his elbow. Peri smiled, thinking Bill looked funny when he was pissed. But at least she knew where she was.

“Jack, what are we doing in Opti Health with Carnac?”

Jack put an arm over her shoulder and led her out of the closet. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Wine,” she said, seeing the empty bottle in his hand, and then her hand went to her pocket, finding the lump of the accelerator. “Hey, while we’re here, we might as well give Bill the accelerator. Save ourselves a trip in tomorrow.” She squinted at the ceiling and the low-powered lights. “It kind of feels like tomorrow already. What time is it?”

Jack’s eyes widened as he took the crystal from her. “You have it? Damn, woman. You are amazing. Bill is going to be so pleased. He thought you lost it.”

“I never lose anything,” she said, curving her shoulder under his arm and tugging him close. “Except my memory.” She could smell the sour reek of metabolized alcohol on his breath. “Did we get drunk?”

Jack laughed, his voice ringing down the empty halls. “Something like that.”

‘The Drafter’ Excerpt

Turn the page for an excerpt from

THE DRAFTER

The first installment in the Peri Reed Chronicles.

Prologue

PROLOGUE

2025

The room was a featureless eight-by-eight, the monotony relieved by a single chair and the door pad softly glowing in the recessed overhead lights. Pulling up from a stretch, Peri stifled a shudder as a feeling of electricity crawled over her skin, pooling where the training suit pinched.

Concerned, she passed a hand over the spiderweb of white stress lines in the otherwise black leather, frown deepening when her hand turned to pinpricks as the electric field in the fabric phased. Seriously? The slick-suit ran from her neck to the tops of her boots, elevating her slight form to dangerous and sexy, but a wardrobe malfunction would slow her down.

“Hey! Excuse me?” she called toward the ceiling, her high voice laced with demand. “I’m getting excessive feedback from my slick-suit.”

A soft chime fell flat in the tiny room as the audio connection opened. “I’m sorry,” a man’s voice said, the hint of sarcasm telling her they knew it. “Possible suit malfunctions are acceptable under the parameters of the exercise. Begin.”