He leaned against the van for a few ticks and stared at her. Archangel was beautiful, complexioned a milky white. Her heart-shaped face perfectly set off her bronze elven eyes swirling with gold flecks. A shimmering cascade of platinum blond hair spilled across her shoulders and down her back, tucked up over one pointed ear. The datajack at her right temple caught the moving light show and shadowplay coming from the monitors and gleamed. Her baggy pants and shirt tried in vain to cover the lean, muscled curves beneath. Who she was and where she came from, though, were another matter. The only things Skater knew about the woman were that her name definitely wasn’t Archangel and that she was a drek-hot decker. Everybody, he’d figured when adding her to the team, was entitled to their secrets; he had his.