IT WAS A nightmare, an utter nightmare.

Ava pressed her hands to her lips, letting Kincaid rub her back as they waited to hear word. He'd been particularly quiet since they arrived at the guild, letting her process what was happening around her without pushing her to make conversation, or trying to hug her or overwhelm her.

She was grateful for that. She needed the small touch of his hand in the middle of her back, but she didn't think she could cope with more. Not right now. Perry had stridden into the courtyard when they arrived, and Ava couldn't stop seeing the look on the other woman's face when Ava breathlessly tried to explain what had all gone so horribly wrong. Perry had known. The second she saw the medic van her face lost every trace of expression, and then she was barking orders, sending Doyle off with the twins, who desperately wanted to see their papa.

Ava nearly vomited in that moment.

The doors to Garrett's office slammed open, and Jasper Lynch, the Duke of Bleight, strode inside, his jaw firm and his nostrils thinned. Once upon a time he'd been the guild master, before he challenged his uncle for the duchy and took his uncle's place on the Council of Dukes that ruled the city.

It had been before her time with the guild, but Ava knew him well. Garrett and Byrnes considered him akin to a mentor, and he'd always been kind to her.

"How is he?" Lynch demanded, striding toward her and the door to Garrett's bedchamber.

"Alive," she whispered, choking on the sudden lump in her throat. She could see it all over again, feel Garrett's blood spraying across her face. "Though we haven't heard anything in the last half hour. Perry's with him."

"Who's this?" Lynch's gaze slid over Kincaid, and she had a funny feeling in her chest—almost as though she wanted to step between them, to protect Kincaid. But that was ridiculous.

"Liam Kincaid," the mech said. "I work with Ava for the Duke of Malloryn."

"The Duchess of Casavian's pet mech," Lynch said. "I remember you. From the night we stormed the Ivory Tower."

"I'm nobody's pet," Kincaid replied coolly.

Lynch's gaze flickered, very mildly, to her. "No?" Then he was heading for the door to Garrett's bedchamber. "Keep an eye on her. I should think a hot cup of tea laced with some blood wouldn't go astray."

"She's got her formula," Kincaid replied, lacing his arms across his chest, as though to prove he knew her better than the duke.

She hadn't told him she'd been taking blood.

"Sir." She caught Lynch's sleeve, and Lynch shot her a hawkish gaze that almost made her tremble. She'd been horribly out of sorts when it all happened, but now she needed to start thinking again. "I know you're aware I've been working with Malloryn on his special project."

"Yes, I recommended you to him."

He had? Ava pushed the thought aside. "This was planned, sir. Someone is behind these riots, stirring them up. We suspect it's Ulbricht, and he has enough of a certain type of poison to kill thousands of blue bloods, but the full depth of the plan is unknown." The words came out of her in a rush. "What I do know is this is a two-pronged attack. We don't know what they're planning with the poison, but they wanted to pit the Nighthawks against the humanists. If I hadn't called out to Garrett when I did, that bullet would have taken him right through the chest. It was deliberate, sir. There was a sniper, one who wasn't involved with the riot."

Lynch's face paled, but it wasn't a look of fear—but one of rage. "Why?"

"We think they meant to push this riot over the edge. If they assassinated the guild master, then nothing could hold the Nighthawks back from retaliation." She squeezed her eyes shut. "And it didn't hold them back. They crushed the mob. Forced them back. Beat them down. I've never...." She faltered. "These men are my friends, but I've never seen them like that before."

As if the loss of their leader drove half of them mad, their primal natures overrunning the strict control each Nighthawk was taught upon entry to the guild. Every blue blood knew what they were capable of, but she'd never seen it in such devastating detail.

"It felt like before," she whispered, "when the prince consort sent the Trojan cavalry through the streets crushing people, only this time, we were the prince consort and his automatons. We were the enemy."

Lynch's lips thinned at her assessment. "So they want war?"

"It's a ploy, Your Grace," Kincaid added. "Something designed to take us back into the past, when it was humans against blue bloods, and murder in the streets. Humans have always been wary of the Nighthawks, but they trusted them more than the rest of the Echelon. Nighthawks worked to solve their murders, and kept the worst of the crime down. All of that vanishes after today. And that's exactly what Ulbricht wants—fear, terror, people too frightened to go to the Nighthawks who might protect them. Even unrest."

She could practically see Lynch absorbing the information. "Who's in charge of the Nighthawks cleaning up after the riot?"

"Charles Finch." She hastened to add, "I tried to warn him not to retaliate and to keep order."

Lynch swore under his breath. "Give me a moment to see Garrett, then I'll head out to the scene. Finch's a good man, but he prefers to receive orders, not to give them, and they'll listen to me." Lynch rapped on the door. "Perry? Gibson?"

Thank God. Lynch was going to handle it.

"Time to go home, I think," Kincaid murmured, his hand sliding over the small of her back again.

Agreed. Anything to get out of the ruin of her bloodstained clothes.

* * *

There was nothing for it but to return to Malloryn's. The duke needed to be told—though Kincaid quite suspected news of it would be all over the city—and Ava needed seeing to. He'd wiped the blood from her face, but it was all over her clothes, and she was oddly quiet and contained, startling every time he spoke to her, as if her mind had been elsewhere.

She felt cold too.

And far too pale.

He liked none of it.

"We're home," he murmured, helping her down from the steam cab they'd hired back to Malloryn's.

Ava stumbled along at his side, leaning heavily upon him. "I never thanked you."

Kincaid swept her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs. "For?"

"For saving Garrett's life." Those green eyes held self-recrimination. "I'm a trained professional, and for the life of me I could barely move. I don't know what happened. I just sat there, like a lump of—"

"It happens sometimes, luv." He shouldered the door open to the safe house.

Herbert, the butler, took one look at them. "Miss Ava, is everything all right?"

"She needs a warm bath, her formula, maybe a pot of tea," Kincaid said, heading for the stairs to her room. His braces strained around his legs as he took the first step. He hated stairs. "I'll run her bath if you'll fetch the rest. And send word to Malloryn. Tell him it's an emergency, and we'd appreciate his presence as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."

Kincaid pushed open the door to the bathing chamber, thankful for Herbert's competence. He didn't quite know what the man did for Malloryn—Herbert had dangerous talents, he suspected—but he wasn't just using his butler role to be undercover.

"Here we are, sweetheart," Kincaid said, starting the bath running. One benefit of working for Malloryn was the plumbing.

Ava stood there, staring down at the steaming bath water, her tangled curls hanging bedraggled from the remnants of her chignon.

Kincaid plucked a pin from her hair. Then another, and another until finally the heavy mass fell down her back, almost to her waist. Ava glanced over her shoulder at him, her blonde lashes framing her green eyes, and the look in them made his heart clench in his chest.

She never could hide her thoughts. They were there, painted across her delicate features; want, fear, the urge to ask for his hands upon her, but doubt too... doubt he'd put there, with his careless words the other night.

Kincaid slid his palms up her bare arms, feeling the gooseflesh pebble beneath his real hand. He wanted to take back everything he'd said to her. To give her what she wanted—a fairy tale, a future, a dreamlike reality. But the words curdled on his tongue, unable to spill freely.

He couldn't lie to her. Not her.

"I wish we could have forever," he whispered hoarsely, and before she could turn to him, he swept her hair over her shoulder and kissed her nape. "You are so perfect, Ava—" The second she started to protest, he captured her chin and turned her face to his, shaking his head. "Perhaps you don't see it, but I do. Despite everything you've been through, you still see so much hope in the world and that's such an awe-inspiring thing to behold. You give me hope, and that's something I haven't felt since I was a lad. Don't ever change. Don't ever wish to be someone else, because to do so would be to deny the world the gift of yourself. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

Her lips parted in shock, and her green eyes gleamed. "Liam—"

"You are strong." He kissed the smooth patch of skin where her neck met her shoulder. "You are brave." His fingers started on the buttons down her spine. "And you are so damned perfect I almost can't believe you'd let me lay hands upon you."

"When I'm with you, I feel like I don't have to be anyone else. You make me believe I'm perfect, just the way I am." A troubled look filled her gaze. "I've never felt this way before."

And there they were, the words neither of them dared utter. Kincaid slid the gown down her shoulders. Silence fell between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable, and it was filled with the rasp of her dress as it fell from her hips and pooled on the floor, and then the gentle rustle of hooks as he removed the press of her corset.

Piece by piece, he stripped her bare, kneeling behind her as he slid her chemise down over her bottom, revealing her pale skin. Golden curls brushed the dimples at the small of her back, and he couldn't stop himself from capturing her hips and kissing her there, a man of reverence though it was no god he served, but her.

"Liam," she whispered, and glanced down at him in shock.

Just one more night.

He closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against her bottom, cursing himself under his breath. He should have ended this last night. He should never have followed her in here.

But like a moth to the flame, he was drawn into her sphere, helpless against the look in her eyes.

Ava. It would always be Ava. And maybe the Kincaid curse would strike him down, but at least he'd know what it felt like to know love, just this once.

Ava turned, sliding a hand through his hair and tilting his head up so he could see her blushing. "What are you thinking?"

His gaze slid down over her small breasts and the smooth plane of her abdomen, toward the golden down between her thighs. "I'm thinking I don't want to waste another damned minute," he replied hoarsely, pressing his face into that hair and breathing in her sweet musk. Running his hands up the backs of her thighs, he cupped her ass and pushed his face against her.

Ava moaned, throwing her head back, and sliding her hand through his hair. "You are so wicked."

"And you love me for it."

The second the words were said, he wished he could take them back, but Ava merely looked down at him, her eyes wide and startled. "Yes," she whispered, "But that's not the only reason I love you." She dragged him up to her to kiss him before he could reply.

His ribs squeezed tight around his heart as Kincaid captured her mouth. He couldn't stop touching her, breathless with a feeling he didn't dare give name to.

I can't give you forever.

He crushed her close to him, capturing her slim form in his arms as he kissed her, pouring everything he couldn't find the courage to say into that kiss.

But I can give you my heart, poor, pathetic thing it is.

Taking her hand, he slid it through the gap in his shirt buttons, pressing her palm flat against his chest. His pulse hammered through his veins as he traced her tongue in a hot caress. It's beating for you. Then her hands were tugging at his buttons, her mouth breaking from his just long enough for him to see the determined look in her eye.

Nothing more needed to be said. Both of them could pretend last night never happened, and this was just pleasure between them.

"Off," Ava demanded, stripping his shirt from his broad shoulders and tugging his sleeves from his wrists, taking care not to rip it on the bare spars of his mech hand.

"And these?" He slid a thumb behind his waistband, his cock pressing hard against his buttons.

"Off," Ava whispered, her eyes pure black with need as she took a step back toward the bath, and then another.

Kincaid watched her with lazy eyes as he stripped down to nothing, making short work of the leather straps that kept his braces in place. He'd never been naked in front of her before. Hell, he hadn't been naked in front of a woman for a long time. He saw her gaze slide down his body, taking in the jut of his erection, his strong thighs, his abnormally enlarged calves....

There was a lump in his throat as he waited for her to ask, but she merely held a hand out to him. "Come and love me, Liam. Just this once."

Ava stepped into the bath, sinking into the luxurious bubbles and capturing a handful of hair in a way that lifted her breasts. His mouth went dry. "We're not going to fit."

She went under, water pouring off her hair as she sat back up, rubbing her eyes. Then she smiled. "Yes, we are. Get in this bath with me right now, Liam Kincaid. I'm cold, and I just want to sink into your arms for a while and soak up all of that delicious heat."

The first step without his supportive braces always made him nervous. He managed to get into the bath, his cock rampant between them, as he settled in behind her. Ava surrendered herself back into his arms, as if she needed to be held. Water sloshed over the sides, and he was right: they barely fit. Yet somehow it was perfect.

"Today was horrible," she whispered. "And I thought I was going to become hysterical."

"But you didn't."

"It was close," she whispered, and rested her head on his chest. "I can never control whether it will take me over, but it was easier there, with you by my side. Just knowing you're there makes me feel safe, though I don't think that will ever stop it."

They stayed there for long moments, absorbing the heat of the bath. Kincaid kissed the top of her head. He liked being able to share the troubles of the day with her, to assuage hers. They were two broken souls who became infinitely stronger together. Maybe he'd never be whole; maybe she never would be. But when she was in his arms, he felt like all the ruined cracks in his psyche were patched.

He could be happy with her.

Ava turned in his arms, looking up at him, her wet lashes clumping together. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you said in Malloryn's study about trying to save the blue bloods. I know that can't have been easy for you."

He sighed, toying with one of her wet curls. "Ava... you were right. I have prejudices, and they're hard to overcome. That hate's been ingrained in me for so many years, and sometimes it was the only thing that kept me going in dark days, but... you're right. Not every blue blood is a bad person. Maybe it's time to look at the world again, and see it for what it is now, what it has the potential to be. A new London, one that works for everyone. One I'd give my life to see. The one Malloryn sees when he looks around him, the one you see. You opened my eyes to a future I never dreamed of, made me realize they're worth saving. We're worth saving."

"What are you saying?"

"Maybe there's hope," he breathed, "if we just believe in it hard enough." A shudder ran through him. "You were right. I'm not afraid of needles. I'm not afraid of the vaccine. Something stopped me from taking that step. I'm not saying I... I would take the step you suggested. I'm not sure yet. But... I'm willing to consider it."

Anything would be worth a lifetime in her arms.

Her whole face lit up. "And us?"

"Where would I be without you?" He kissed her upturned nose. "You're my hope, kitten."

"And you're my strength. My belief in myself." Happiness made her glow with some inner beauty that almost struck him dumb. How had no man seen it before? "I love you."

He kissed her, past the point of words. And she slid into his lap, straddling his thighs, a new eagerness swimming through her as she ravished him with her mouth, her hands.

Bath oil gleamed on her bare breasts when they broke apart just enough to catch their breaths. He tongued her nipple, tasting the lemon and chemical of the oil. His stubble grazed her tender flesh, but she'd grown used to his advances by now, and merely moaned, arching her back and clutching his head.

Kincaid stroked between her thighs, feeling a shiver run through her. He drove a finger into her wet, silken sheath, working her, stretching her. Added another until she was rocking in his grasp, making desperate, pleading noises. Somehow it wasn't enough. He needed to be inside her. Now. To give himself to her, and seal their future in one blazing act.

"Bend over the bath," he breathed.

Ava gave him a shy glance, but there was also a hint of the devil in her gaze. And that look felt like a hand stroking his cock. Slowly, she rose up onto her knees, glancing back over her shoulder at him, her hair dripping. "Just what are you planning to do?"

"I plan to take you," he told her, putting a hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her forward, until she was bent over the rim of the bath. Water sloshed on the floor as he reached for the bath oil. "Just like this."

"I know this trick."

Oiling his fingers, he rose up onto his knees behind her. "I think there's still a few things I could teach you."

She glanced back over her shoulder with a shy smile, one that stole his breath. "Really?"

He smiled. "Oh, yes."

Tracing her bottom, he slid his hand between her thighs, fucking his fingers into her in a slow, insistent drive. Ava grasped the edge of the bath with a soft shudder. The oil made his passage easy, for the water had stolen her natural wetness. He needed to work her a little, to make her wet again.

Every thrust of his fingers made her shiver, her body clenching around him.

Taking his cock in his hand, he pumped it a few times, biting his lip against the urge to plunge within her. "Are you ready?"

"For you? Always."

Kincaid eased the broad head of his cock inside her, swiveling his hips, but not letting her take any more of him. Fuck, she felt good. He breached her a little further, and Ava wilted over the bath in silent entreaty. "Do it."

"What do you say?" he breathed, running his mech fingers up her spine.

"Please." She arched her back upwards. "Please."

"Please what?"

A shudder ran through her. "Please fuck me."

He drove himself inside her, earning a moan, as he slid his mech hand across her tits and drew her back against him so he could bite her earlobe. "I love hearing your sweet mouth say dirty things."

"I think you like... corrupting me."

He thrust again, the angle a little shallower thanks to the position. "Maybe I do?" And maybe you're the one corrupting me? "Look at you, my dirty little angel." He slid his oiled fingers up her throat and brushed them over her lips. "Lick them, sweetness. Taste yourself."

Ava's wet mouth slid over his fingers, her tongue darting over them as she suckled. He thrust deeper, moaning himself. Fuck. Not so innocent now....

"That's it." Jaysus, she was so perfect. And he wasn't going to last long. Not tonight, with her silken passage milking his cock in teasing little clenches. His gaze dropped to the little bottle again. "Pour more oil on my fingers."

She let him go with a wet pop of her mouth, and then bent to retrieve the bottle. "Why?"

It lubricated his touch again, and he kissed her shoulder, and then bent her forward insistently. "Because I want to do dirty things to you."

Tracing teasing circles around the puckered rosebud between her crease, he pressed, oil easing just the tip of his finger inside her to show her what he intended. Ava froze, as though shocked. "What are you doing?"

"Do you like it?" He withdrew, and rubbed her there, making her whole body clench.

"I don't—" She gasped. "—know. Maybe. Yes."

"Do you trust me, Ava?" he whispered, breaching her again and waiting, waiting for her to say it.

"Yes," she whispered, and he felt her body surrender, felt her quiver at this new sensation as he slowly finger-fucked his way inside her. Everything in her body tightened. Everything. But she cried out softly, and he knew it wasn't in denial.

"Good," he rasped, and thrust a little harder, sheathing both cock and finger inside her. He felt a little wild tonight. As though seeing her lost in the swarm of Nighthawks had unleashed something wild and primitive within him. He wanted to mark her, to fuck her hard enough she'd feel this possession on the morrow, and blush in remembrance.

Ava cried out, her inner passage milking him. "Oh, God. Please...."

And then the shockwave of pleasure vibrated through her, gripping him tight. Heat flashed through his balls, and he ground his teeth together, trying to last long enough to extend her pleasure, trying not to.... Too late. He came with a hard thrust, spilling within her and folding over the top of her.

Harsh breaths shuddered through them. Kincaid drew back, dragging her back into his arms. His hips were aching, the muscles protesting so much strenuous action. He'd probably pushed his body too far today.

But it was worth it.

"I could stay here forever," he murmured, kissing the top of her head, and enjoying the sensation of having her in his arms.

Green eyes flashed to his, and he realized he'd used the f word. But she nodded, and rested her head on his chest, her fingers toying with his shoulder.

"So could I," Ava whispered.

* * *

Malloryn sent word. He was aware of what happened, thanks to Lynch, and would be with them sometime that afternoon.

Ava contacted the guild for news on Garrett, but as yet, there was no reply and she couldn't afford to miss Malloryn. She spent the morning pacing, before voices echoed downstairs. There were two very familiar faces in the hallway when she hurried to the top of the stairs.

"Byrnes! Ingrid!" Ava said delightedly, hurrying down the stairs and giving Byrnes a swift hug, before turning to where Ingrid was stripping off her coat. Ava kissed her verwulfen friend on the cheek, squeezing Ingrid for long seconds. "What are you both doing here? I thought you were enjoying some time off for your honeymoon?"

"We were." Byrnes looked cold and focused, which meant his mind was on some task. The paleness of his hair was still a shock to her. "We heard what happened, and stopped by to see how Garrett is recovering."

"Is he all right?" Ava blurted.

"He'll heal," Ingrid said quietly, watching her husband's expression, and easing a hand over his forearm. "He's a little shocked to lose the arm though, and Perry's hovering over him fiercely." A warm smile softened Ingrid's face. "How have you been, Ava? Garrett was worried about you, he said you saw it happen."

A lump of sadness clogged her throat. Of course Garrett would worry about her, when he was the one who'd lost his arm. "I'm fine. I was a little rattled yesterday, but Kincaid took care of me and—"

"Kincaid?" Byrnes arched a pale brow. "Big, angry mech with a rather strong dislike for blue bloods? Would probably prefer to see the Nighthawks burn, rather than helping them? Are we speaking of the same fellow?"

"He's not like that," she said sharply, and Byrnes blinked in surprise. "He's been working with me since the two of you went away, and he's been very protective. He's brave, and gentle when he's alone with me.... He even saved Garrett's life! Without him...." She couldn't say it. Coming so close to losing Garrett was still painful.

"Ava—"

"Prejudice works both ways, Byrnes," she snapped.

There was silence in the hallway.

Ava realized she'd raised her voice, and she never dared to do so around the Nighthawks. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Ingrid said, and the smile she gave Ava had a knowing edge to it, before she shot her husband an arched brow. "Byrnes needs to mind his own business. Kincaid helped rescue you, my love, and you're a Nighthawk."

Byrnes held both hands up in surrender. "I spoke out of turn, Ava. I'm sorry." But he gave her the queerest sort of look.

"Someone say my name?" Kincaid said loudly, appearing at the top of the stairs.

Oh, no. How long had he been there?

Long enough, clearly, for he gave Byrnes a cool look as he used the bannister to ease down the stairs. "You've both been gone. You missed a great many changes around here. I'm willing to concede blue bloods aren't all that bad. Present company excluded, of course." He coughed under his breath. "Asshole."

"Prick." Byrnes shot him a smile. "I think I've almost missed you."

"There are other changes too." Kincaid's hands settled gently on Ava's shoulders with careful deliberation, squeezing gently. "All good, kitten?"

Ava froze. What was he doing? This was supposed to be.... Everyone would know.

Perhaps that was precisely the point.

She knew he still saw Byrnes as competition for her feelings; he'd practically shouted it at her the other day. And although the matter had been settled in her mind—and heart—she hadn't realized it perhaps wasn't settled in his, despite what she'd told him last night.

You fool. Ava slowly reached up and caressed his hand. "I'm fine, thank you for asking." Then she smiled at him.

A tiny declaration, but she might as well have grown fangs and hissed at the others. Both Byrnes and Ingrid stared at her as if she had.

Then Ingrid stepped forward and kissed Ava on the cheek. "Congratulations."

And Ava panicked a little again, because they were presuming Kincaid had declared his intentions, when the pair of them hadn't quite worked everything out. Kincaid was the one holding back, but if he asked her for... forever... then she'd give it to him.

Her heart squeezed. She'd give him every part of herself if he only opened himself up to the possibility.

Byrnes wasn't quite as sanguine. "Do I need to—"

"No, you do not. I am not an idiot, and although you all treat me like a child, I can make my own decisions." Ava sucked in a slow breath, trying to fight her sudden anger. "I want this... whatever is between us, I want it with every part of my heart."

And God help her, but her mouth had said the words before she could edit them, and now her feelings were on the table, and they were all looking at her, and—

Kincaid squeezed her shoulders again, and stepped around her to take her hand. "We haven't worked out the specifics," he told the pair of them, "but frankly, it's none of your business."

"Or mine apparently," Malloryn said, startling all of them. He looked frustrated as he strode out of the shadows behind the stairs. "I think I'm going to make a company policy of pairing members of the same sex together to avoid this nonsense."

"Because that's working so well for Jack and my brother, Debney." Byrnes snorted. He drifted into the parlor and sank into a chair. "Now I've been told quite firmly to mind my own business, I think we should get to the crux of the matter. I want whoever shot Garrett." He clasped his hands between his knees, looking deadly serious. "And I want his head. I would advise all of you to stay out of my way."

That was... it?

Ava's shoulders relaxed. Everything was out in the open right now, and it felt like they'd all accepted it. It felt like Kincaid had even accepted it.

He brushed his knuckles against her back. "You can breathe now, luv."

"The sniper's yours," Malloryn said, "but after you bring me Ulbricht." He handed Ingrid the folder he carried. "I want the pair of you up-to-date on developments. Ava and Kincaid have discovered a poison that can kill blue bloods...."

Byrnes looked horrified as Malloryn swiftly filled the pair of them in on developments. "Sniper can wait," he finally agreed.

"The thing I don't understand, Your Grace, is the threat against the Nighthawks," Ava said thoughtfully. "Where was the serum? We all thought the SOG were going to fire poisoned darts at them. But they didn't. Just a single sniper to take Garrett down and spur the Nighthawks into a head-on collision with the mob. Why didn't they use the serum? It would have been the perfect opportunity."

"You mean, what are they saving it for?" Kincaid said, cracking his knuckles with his mech hand.

Precisely. Ava clenched both hands around the back of a chair as she stared at all of them. "Edward Leicester said they needed all the crates of serum by last night. So whatever they're planning, it must be soon, and I think there's something else going on here we haven't seen before. I think they plan to use the serum elsewhere."

Malloryn placed his fingers together, looking grim. "You're right." He met all their eyes in turn. "My spy networks turned up nothing. You're the investigators, where do we go from here?"

"Ingrid and I can try and track Ulbricht," Byrnes said, running a hand through his pale hair. The color had faded from it completely now, ever since he'd been turned into a dhampir against his will. "We were on his trail last month and know his hidey-holes, and his scent. My senses are better than ever, we might as well use them."

"And you two?" Malloryn asked, turning to her.

Ava sighed. "We have several leads to chase up. I think the vaccine issue has trailed off, and this is more important anyway. We need to find out who can manufacture dart guns, or guns with hollow bullets that might be filled with Black Vein, much the way the Firebolt bullets are filled with chemicals. And Kincaid has ties among the humanist population." She paused, glancing at him. "Do you think any of your friends would know anything?"

Kincaid nodded slowly. "They might."