I crashed shoulder first through the gate, then raced up to the front door. The screaming inside was high-pitched and desperate and accompanied by the snarls of a creature that was neither cat nor dog but something in between. With all that noise, no one was going to hear me knocking, even if I had time to waste.

I smashed one of the door’s glass panels, then became flame and swept into the hall. As I regained flesh form, a man came staggering out of the baby’s bedroom, blood spurting from a large gash down his left arm. I swore, then grabbed a scarf from the nearby hat stand and ran toward him.

“Wrap this tightly around the wound and keep your arm up,” I said, and shoved the pretty scarf at him.

He blinked at me, his expression owlish, shocked. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Cop,” I said. “Now get back—”

“My fucking wife and child—”

“I’m well aware of just who and what are in that room,” I cut in brusquely. “Just do as I goddamn say and let me save them.”

I didn’t wait for his answer; I just spun and went into the room. The woman I’d heard screaming was hunkered down in the far corner behind the cot, shielding the baby with her body. The creature was standing in the middle of the room, its form pulsating, growing, from that of a large cat to the more-familiar form of the black dog. But it was more ash than flesh, and that meant this might be my one and only chance to use the charms. I dug them out of my pocket and threw them at the creature.

The charms disappeared into its ashy mass, but for an instant, nothing happened. The creature showed no awareness of my presence and simply continued to grow, until it loomed over the pair in the corner. The woman whimpered but otherwise didn’t move. The creature raised a wickedly barbed paw, but at that precise moment, a crimson light flared deep in the middle of the creature’s ashy heart. It was faint at first but grew fast, until it became a tide that swept through the black mass, staining the sooty particles and clinging to the bits that were already flesh. It stopped the creature from changing, but the form it pinned the creature to was big and strong, and a warped mix of cat and dog. Maybe throwing those coins hadn’t been such a great idea.

It screamed, a guttural sound filled with anger and frustration, then spun and lashed out with the barbed paw. I jumped back with a yelp but wasn’t quite fast enough. The claws sliced through my sweater and down into flesh, parting it as easily as hot knives through butter. As blood began to ooze down my stomach, I spun a lasso of fire around the creature and forced it backward—not only away from the woman and the baby but out through the window and into the night.

It fought my grip every step of the way, pulling at my fiery rope, twisting and tearing at its own flesh in an effort to free itself. I gritted my teeth and held on as I scrambled over to the woman and knelt beside her.

“Are you okay? Is your baby okay?”

She didn’t answer. She just shrank away from my touch and screamed again. I swore and hit her. It wasn’t nice, but I didn’t have time for niceties. Her screaming stopped; she stared at me with wide, frightened eyes.

“Is your baby okay?” I repeated. There was blood on her nightdress, but I wasn’t sure if it was the baby’s or hers. There wasn’t a lot of it, which was at least something.

She nodded.

Relief rushed through me. “Good. More police are on the way, but you need to call an ambulance for your husband.”

She licked her lips. “And that … thing?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

But even as I rose, my lasso shattered, and the force of its destruction was enough to send me staggering back. I gripped the side of the cot to steady myself, then took a deep, somewhat quivery breath before pushing away from the cot and diving out the shattered window. I hit the grass hard and rolled to my feet, ready to fight, but the creature was nowhere in sight.

I swore and ran through the still-swinging gate, quickly looking left, then right—and spotted the very end of the creature’s black tail as it disappeared around the corner onto Auburn Road.

I swore and bolted after it, changing form as I ran. I swept upward in an effort to avoid being seen by both those who might be peering out their windows to see what was going on and those who were driving along Auburn Road.

The creature galloped along the sidewalk, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, its grotesque form rippling and moving, as if it were trying to shift shape as it ran. Despite its ungainly gait, it was superfast, and I had to dredge up a lot more speed to even catch it.

Up ahead, lights speared the darkness as a car turned onto the road. The creature was briefly illuminated, its red eyes glowing with unearthly fire. I’m not sure whether the driver noticed, but the car’s tires squealed as the driver suddenly accelerated.

As the car swept past, I spun another lasso and lashed the creature tight. Then, with a heave that shuddered through my entire being, I lifted it up into the air, surging even higher as I battled to get the creature out of the street and out of sight.

Once again it fought my hold, tearing at both my fiery leash and its own flesh. Pain ripped through my being, and my flames began to pulsate, a sure sign I was pushing the limits of my strength. I hissed and battled to hold on, to keep moving. I needed to find somewhere to dispose of this thing, and fast.

As I neared Barkers Road, I remembered the football ovals at Xavier College. It was probably as remote as I was going to get in an area this built up. I swept around the intersection, following the brightly lit road, the creature trailing behind me on an ever-thinning leash of fire. Its fur was beginning to smolder, but it was hate and anger that lashed the night rather than pain.

My leash and energy snapped just as I neared the middle of the four ovals, and it sent us both tumbling down. I hit the ground hard and slid forward, my form rippling from fire to bird to flesh, then back again as I came to a halt in a cloud of dust and cindered grass. But I’d barely had time to gather my thoughts when a snarl of utter fury filled my ears and the air screamed a warning of impact. I twisted around, saw the creature in midair, and called for every ounce of heat I had left.

At the very last minute, the creature must have realized the stupidity of its actions, and it desperately tried to twist away. But it was too close and going far too fast, and it was quickly enveloped in my flames.

It didn’t scream. It didn’t get the chance. The flames of a phoenix might not be as hot as the mother’s lava heart, but the creature was nevertheless soot in little more than a nanosecond.

I scrambled out of the path of the gently falling black rain, then regained human form. Dizziness swept me, and for several minutes it was all I could do to gulp in air and remain upright.

Sirens bit through the night, their blue and red lights washing across the edges of the oval below as they raced by. I watched them swing onto Auburn Street, then slowly pushed upright. Only to have my knees go out from underneath me and send me tumbling backward again.

But I never hit the ground. Arms caught me a hairs-breadth away and hauled me upright again. Rory. I closed my eyes against the relief that threatened to spill in tears down my cheeks.

“Damn it, Em, you’re dangerously low on energy. We need to merge—now.”

Tell me something I don’t know. But the words didn’t make it past my throat, because the world spun around me and lights began to dance in front of my eyes. His grip tightened as he wrapped his arms around my body and held me close. He smelled of ash and fire and heat, and all I wanted to do was lose myself in his strength.

“We can’t,” I somehow bit out. “Not here.”

“We’re in the middle of four goddamn ovals. We’re as safe here as we’re ever going to be,” he growled. “Now flame!”

I obeyed. This time, our joining was no sensual dance, no seduction. We didn’t have the luxury of time, and I simply didn’t have the strength. I was close to flaming out, and that was a dangerous place to be for a phoenix.

But as our flames combined and his essence flowed across every corner of my soul, strength began to filter through me. It wasn’t coming from him, but rather from the connection itself. This merging might be a necessity as much as an affirmation of being, but it was nevertheless filled with power. It was that power that renewed me, refreshed me. And it led us, as ever, into a storm of ecstasy.

I came back into flesh still locked in Rory’s arms but feeling a whole lot stronger than I had only moments ago. He brushed a kiss across the top of my head, then stepped back, his grip still fierce on my arms as he studied me critically. After a minute, he relaxed and released me. “How bad are the wounds on your stomach?”

“I actually don’t know.” I lifted my sweater and checked them out. The slashes were long but, thankfully, not particularly deep. The fires of our merging had at least cauterized the wounds and stopped any chance of infection, but they never really healed them. As a result, they were still damn sore. “I wish we had the healing powers of werewolves. It’d be handy at times like this.”

“Especially given your recent penchant for going after less-than-savory types.”

“Actually,” I said, amusement teasing my lips, “the only unsavory thing I’ve willingly chased this lifetime is the creature who’s now ash littering the grass.”

“What about the sindicati?”

“I’m not chasing them. I’m meeting them.” He rolled his eyes at the distinction, and I grinned. “Did you ring Sam?”

“Yeah. He and Adam arrived at the house several minutes ago.” He half smiled. “I have to say, it was a pretty impressive sight, you in fire form dragging that thing behind you on a flaming leash.”

“Hitting the dirt from that height wasn’t so impressive, I can tell you.”

“I imagine not.” He glanced past me, studying the soot that littered the grass behind us. “Good job on incinerating it, though.”

“I was lucky.” And so were the parents of that baby. It could have very easily gone the other way—a thought that sent a chill running through me. I rubbed my arms and turned around. “Should we return to the house or just go back to the apartment?”

“I’d imagine that if we didn’t return, Sam would put out an all-points to find us. Not what we need under the circumstances.”

No, it definitely wasn’t, especially if Rochelle—or even Sam—was inadvertently feeding the gray cloak information. “Then let’s go get it over with.”

I trudged through the ovals and followed the extraordinarily high fence—one that was obviously meant to stop both footballs and cricket balls from being smashed into the street—until we found an exit.

By the time we arrived back at the house, there was a mix of cop cars, unmarked PIT vehicles, and several ambulances crowded into the small street.

A cop stopped us at the front gate, but before he could say anything, Sam appeared at the door. It was almost as if he knew I was near, and I couldn’t help wondering if that awareness was a result of the virus and becoming a pseudo vampire, or the resurgence of the odd second sense we’d once shared about each other’s nearness.

I had to hope it wasn’t the latter. He was obviously intent on getting his life back together—as much as was possible given the virus, anyway—and he didn’t need a lingering connection to me to mess up the works.

“Jack, it’s okay. Let them in.” His gaze skimmed me but came to an abrupt halt at the bloody slashes that decorated the middle of my sweater. “Do you need medical help?”

I smiled at the cop as he stepped back to let us through, then shook my head. “It’s stopped bleeding.”

He didn’t move out of the doorway, forcing us both to halt on the veranda. “And the creature?”

“Little more than ashes staining a football field.”

“No chance of resurrection?”

“None at all.”

He grunted and stepped to one side. “The parents want to thank you. They’re down the end of the hall, in the kitchen. After that, we’ll need a statement.”

“Can’t I just say the thing is no longer a problem and leave it at that?”

I brushed past him, my body far too aware of his scent and strength. A regular cop guarded the entrance to the baby’s room, and I could see several more down the hall, along with the ambulance officers.

“No, you can’t,” he said. “But I’ll be taking the statement, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Except that it was, given the possible leak. I really didn’t need the gray cloak learning too much about my capabilities—although I guess, considering what I’d done in Brooklyn, that cat was well and truly out of the bag.

Our footsteps echoed softly against the hall’s wooden flooring, and the tearstained face of the mother peered past one of the paramedics.

“Oh, thank god,” she said, the relief in her expression echoing through her voice. She was still holding her little girl, and I couldn’t say I blamed her. I’d have been doing the same after such a close call. “I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to thank you.”

“I’m just glad I happened to be in the area and was able to help.” As the paramedic moved to one side, I squatted down in front of her and touched the little girl’s fingers. She appeared totally unharmed, which meant the blood I’d seen must have come from the woman. As the baby gurgled and clutched at my finger, I added, “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “It’s just a minor cut, nothing more. But my husband and I owe you a great debt.”

“No, you don’t.” I rose again and glanced at the husband. “As I said, you’re just lucky I was in the area.”

“And that thing?” he asked, a slight edge to both his voice and the way he was standing.

“Won’t be troubling anyone again.”

He nodded, and I could almost see the tension slither from him. I glanced around and met Sam’s gaze.

“This way,” he said, and headed for the back door.

We followed. Once we were standing in the middle of the small yard, out of immediate earshot of everyone inside, he pulled out his phone and hit the RECORD button.

“Okay, for the purposes of this record, state your name, address, and whether you consent to this statement being recorded.”

“I thought PIT didn’t operate by the same rules as regular cops?”

“In this case, we have to because the cops got here first. Name, address, and consent, please.”

I did so, then, once Sam had identified himself, the time and the location, gave him the bare-bones tales of what had happened.

“And exact location of this thing’s ashes?”

“I can’t be exact, but it’s basically in the middle of the area that divides all four ovals.”

He nodded. “Have you anything else to say?”

“Nope.” I hesitated. “Will the cops have access to these tapes?”

“No. We just need to appear to be following the rules in this sort of situation.” He glanced at Rory and repeated the process, though there wasn’t much he could add. Once he’d finished, Sam stopped recording, then saved the file and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

“Is that it?” I asked.

He nodded. “If we need anything else, we’ll contact you.”

He had to find us first, but I didn’t say anything, just wished him good night and followed Rory across the yard.

But just as I was about to enter the house, Sam said, “Em?”

I hesitated and looked around. “What?”

“I’ve ordered Luke’s body to be exhumed. I don’t believe he can possibly be the man in charge of the red cloaks, but I need to be sure.”

“I really hope he isn’t, Sam.”

“So do I.” His voice was bleak. “I’ll let you know either way.”

“Thanks.” And with that, I left.

Jackson’s friends arrived at sunset. Neither was classic Fae in appearance—or, at least, classic as defined by literature and movies. The earth was a solid element, and that very much described the two men. They were both five foot nine and had the same stocky build, with rich brown skin and hair. The only way to really tell them apart was by their eyes—Adán’s were the color of chocolate, and Dmitri’s more the color of burned earth.

Despite Jackson’s warning, neither man flirted outrageously with me. They were too caught up in the excitement and logistics of the upcoming meeting; Fae really did live for danger, it seemed.

The five of us discussed every possible scenario we could think of, and we came up with plans and coping mechanisms for each one. Whether it would be enough was anyone’s guess, and very much depended on just what, exactly, the sindicati had planned for tonight.

In the end, it was decided that Adán, Jackson, and I would confront Parella and his crew, while Rory and Dmitri would break into the Highpoint complex and make their way down to the Hoyts level. It was the only way they’d be able to get close enough to react if this went down wrong and yet remain beyond the vampires’ immediate sensory range. We were presuming, of course, that both men would also be able to nullify the center’s security cameras and avoid on-ground security personnel.

We also went with more traditional means of protection—proper guns rather than water pistols and holy water. It was extremely doubtful that Parella would let us get anywhere near him armed, so it was pointless to waste a precious resource like holy water. Dmitri also offered several blessed knives for us to use, although when I asked why an earth Fae would even possess such weapons, he just grinned and declined to answer.

By the time the meeting rolled around, I was a bundle of nerves. We arrived at Highpoint at two forty-five and cruised down the road that led into lower-level parking. There was no gate on the entrance, but Jackson stopped the car regardless, keeping the headlights on and the engine running. The security lights that dotted the various buildings at regular intervals provided brief spots of brightness, but the parking area was a wasteland of darkness. But I guess that was no real surprise, given we were here to meet vampires.

“I can’t see or sense anything.” Jackson glanced at me. “You?”

I shook my head. “But that’s hardly surprising, considering a phoenix’s senses aren’t exactly wolf sharp.”

“But they are very prettily packaged,” Adán commented, his voice gravelly and pleasant.

Jackson’s grin flashed. “Already used that line, my friend.”

“Which does not make it any less true.” Adán leaned forward, and his scent spun around me, fresh and earthy. “Someone’s watching us from the shadows.”

I glanced around in surprise. “How can you tell that? It’s pitch-black, and Fae don’t have infrared.”

He smiled. “Earth Fae don’t need it when the earth is more than willing to whisper its secrets. There’re another five deeper within.”

“Only six?” My gaze went to Jackson’s. “That’s not what I was expecting.”

“No. And it makes me nervous.”

“Maybe they’re playing it straight,” Adán said. “They have nothing to lose by doing so.”

“We’re talking about the vampire mafia here,” I said. “I very much think they’d play every situation to their own advantage.”

“I daresay we’ll soon find out,” Adán said, “as our watcher is about to reveal himself.”

Even as he spoke, a thin man with dark hair and pockmarked skin stepped into the pale light that washed the parking entrance. He studied us for a moment, then motioned to the pedestrian-access gate to the left of the main gate. Obviously, they didn’t want us driving any farther.

“And so the fun begins.” Anticipation rolled through Jackson’s voice. He pulled on the parking brake and stopped the engine. “Adán, you want to warn Rory and Dmitri that we’re about to head in?”

As Adán spoke into the small two-way we’d purchased for the night, Jackson and I climbed out of the car. The night was cool and crisp, and the promise of rain filled the light breeze that teased the ends of my hair away from my neck. I flexed my fingers, and sparks flew, bright fireflies caught by the wind and flung away.

Once Adán was out of the car, Jackson locked it, then led the way in. The vampire stepped back and once again disappeared into the shadows. But while he was invisible to the eye, I knew precisely where he was. Vampires might naturally run cooler than the rest of humanity, but they weren’t beings of ice and, in most circumstances, I could sense the heat in them, whether they were shadowed or not. Of course, given the tension and my heightened state of awareness right now, I’d probably sense the heat of a gnat half a mile away if it so much as twitched the wrong way.

“Straight ahead,” the shadowed vampire said. His voice cracked as he spoke, and it made me wonder just how old he’d been when he’d turned. Not very, I suspected. “Walk slow. Don’t try any of your tricks.”

“I might ask that you do the same,” Jackson commented, “or this could get really messy.”

“Yes, it could,” the kid said. If he was at all concerned by the prospect, he didn’t sound it. But then, he was one of six here, and that suggested Parella had a whole lot of trust in his capabilities.

We walked through the cavernous parking lot, Jackson and I side by side and Adán at our back. The vampire shadowed our movements but kept a good six feet between us.

When we’d walked about a third of the way through the first part of the lot, he said, “Stop and divest yourselves of weapons.”

Though we’d expected this to happen, it didn’t mean we had to be happy about it. Or comply too easily.

“The only way we’re going to leave our weapons here is if you lot do the same.” I glanced ahead, at the usually brightly lit Hoyts cinema entrance. They might be nothing more than shadows, but the remaining vampires were near there, watching.

“We are not armed,” the kid said. “There’s no need for us to be.”

It wasn’t so much the statement that ramped up the tension already twisting through me but the confident manner in which it was said.

“Yeah, well, you’re vampires,” Jackson said. “You’ll have to forgive our hesitation about dropping our sole means of self-defense.”

“They are hardly your sole means,” the kid came back. “We have all seen what the fire witch is capable of.”

What I was capable of, not what we were capable of. It very much suggested they weren’t aware that Jackson was a fire Fae—and that one point could make the difference between surviving this meeting and not. I flexed my fingers, this time controlling the sparks. “Then why fear guns when fire is far more dangerous?”

“Do you wish this meeting or not?” he said. “Because the only way it will proceed is if you drop all your guns.”

That he’d avoided answering my question could mean only one thing—they didn’t fear my fire because they believed they could counter it. And that was the one situation for which we’d had no answer. If there was a containment spell here somewhere, then what I could and couldn’t do would very much depend on the strength and scope of the magic itself.

But if they truly believed I was some form of witch rather than a phoenix, then there was at least hope. They could restrict my own fire, and they might even be able to restrict my access to the mother—especially if whoever produced this spell was old enough to realize that some fire witches could draw on the heat of the earth itself. But if they didn’t know I was actually a phoenix, then a spell would not inhibit a change to my true form. But it was a change I could make only if there was absolutely no other choice, because I had no desire to out myself to anyone, much less the likes of Parella and his crew.

I glanced at Jackson, and he nodded. We pulled out our guns and tossed them on the concrete.

“I trust that is it?” the kid said.

“Yes, so can we please get this show on the road?” My voice held an edge I hoped they took for annoyance rather than fear. “We’re here for your boss’s benefit as much as our own.”

“That,” the kid said, “remains to be seen. This way.”

He stepped away from the shadows and led us deeper into the underground complex. I glanced at the glassed-off Hoyts entrance as we passed it, looking for some hint that Rory and Dmitri were in there. I couldn’t sense them, and maybe that was just as well, because if I could, the vampires no doubt would, too.

As we moved into the deeper darkness beyond the Hoyts entrance, an unnatural energy began to stir around me. It was little more than a whisper that caressed my skin in gentle waves, but it had the hairs at the back of my neck standing on end. I paused instinctively, and the two men instantly stopped.

“You okay?” Jackson asked.

“Yeah.”

I forced my feet forward and brushed my fingers across both his hand and Adán’s, silently letting them know that the magic we’d feared was here. Jackson swore under his breath. Adán merely flashed me a smile and murmured, “And the challenge has been set.”

Fae really were crazy people.

The magic grew stronger the deeper into the parking complex we moved, until it felt like a blanket settling around. My breathing quickened and my skin crawled, although the magic’s touch was neither clean nor foul—a fact that suggested its creator sat somewhere in the middle in terms of good and evil. And whoever she was—although it could have easily been a male, because the term “witch” applied to both genders even if literature generally thought otherwise—she was well practiced in her art. The spell not only felt strong but tight.

Whether it would be enough to fully restrict me remained to be seen.

The kid eventually stopped. Although they didn’t immediately reveal themselves, four of the five other vampires stood six feet away—three in front, one slightly to the rear. The fifth now stood about ten feet behind us. The kid became shadow again and joined the vampire at the rear.

“What is it you wish of us?”

It wasn’t Parella who spoke. The voice wasn’t gravelly enough.

“We came here to speak to Parella,” I said. “Not his second, or third, or whatever the hell you are. If he’s not here, then we’re leaving.”

There was a pause; then a familiar voice said, “I’m here. Now say what you came here to say.”

“We haven’t got Wilson’s research,” I said bluntly. “And we currently have no idea where his backup files are, because the only person who might know has now been killed.”

“And who might that person be?”

“Denny Rosen.”

That produced a reaction, even if it was one I couldn’t actually see, just sense. But the mere fact they were surprised meant they weren’t up to date on the current state of affairs when it came to the virus and the research. But why? I would have thought knowing everything that was going on—and what moves the other players in the search were making—would be vital if they wanted to grab the research for themselves.

“How did he die?” Parella asked.

“He was murdered.” I paused. “And, depending on who you believe, by either yourself or De Luca.”

“Why would we want him killed? Surely Radcliffe has mentioned we were paying him to track your movements and grab the files.”

Radcliffe hadn’t actually mentioned the tracking bit, but maybe our paranoia over the car’s being bugged hadn’t been that far off the mark.

“For that same reason, I cannot imagine De Luca wanting Rosen killed,” Parella continued. “He’s after the research every bit as much as we are.”

“Actually, I believe he already has it.”

The shadows abruptly parted, and a man stepped forward. He was tall, well built, and very tanned, especially for a vampire. His steel gray hair was cropped short, and his face was dominated by a Roman nose and a chin dimple you could lose a finger in. His eyes were the same color as his hair but totally devoid of life. It was almost as if there were nothing going on beyond them—and that could only mean Parella was a very old vampire. That depth of emotional control came only with time—centuries and centuries of it. Of course, if they remained alive long enough, then time also leached any vestiges of humanity from them. And that, in turn, made them very dangerous, because a vampire devoid of emotion also had no remorse, no guilt, and nothing in the way of a conscience. Parella might not be at that stage yet, but, looking at his eyes, I couldn’t help but think he wasn’t that far away from it, either.

“And how would you know something like that?” His voice was lower than before, and thick with menace.

Though neither Jackson nor Adán moved, I felt their sudden readiness for action. We might have lost our guns, but we still had the blessed silver knives and, among the three of us, we could certainly take out at least a couple of them before they realized what was happening. And even if the magic did restrict my abilities, Adán could still give them hell in this concrete cavern.

I crossed my arms and met Parella’s gaze evenly—and hoped like hell he wasn’t catching the rapid pounding of my heart or the quivering of my insides.

“I very much suspect we know a whole lot more about De Luca and his exploits than you do at the moment.”

“That,” Parella said, “is highly unlikely.”

I smiled. “And are you willing to bet your life on that?”

He raised an eyebrow, the movement oddly elegant. “Are you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.” I shrugged. “But I want something in exchange for our information about De Luca.”

“And what might that be? The ability to walk out of here rather than crawl, perhaps?”

I snorted, even though the cold amusement in his voice had goose bumps skittering across my skin.

“That would undoubtedly be good, but what I actually want is a guarantee you’ll stop your people coming after us.”

“My people haven’t been chasing you.”

“Perhaps they haven’t, but I still want that guarantee.”

He considered me for a moment. “And the research notes?”

“The research notes—which may or may not exist, by the way—are not part of this agreement.”

“Then we have no agreement, and you have wasted my time. And that is very vexing.”

And we didn’t want him vexed if the sudden rush of anticipation coming from the other vampires was anything to go by.

“De Luca has access to both Baltimore and Wilson,” I said quickly. “And he’s working with someone who poses more of a threat to you and your organization than me or PIT or anyone else for that matter.”

Parella studied me for a moment, his expression contemplative. “Go on.”

“Do we have an agreement?”

He hesitated, then made a “whatever” motion with his hand. “We will allow you to walk out of here, and we will also not come after you—not until the notes are found, anyway.”

All bets were off if we did find them, obviously. But until we did, it at least offered us some maneuvering room. I glanced at Jackson and he nodded.

“Then we have an agreement.” I held out a hand. “I do hope you realize it would not be wise to break it.”

His smile was as cold as his eyes as he clasped my hand briefly. “And I do hope you realize that the information had better be worth it.”

“Oh, I think you’ll find it illuminating.” I released his hand and flexed my fingers to rid them of the cool, almost dead feel of his flesh. “What do you know about Brooklyn and the red cloaks?”

“Possibly as much as anyone does,” Parella replied. “They are insane, and they now control much of that area. Like most sensible people, we abandoned Brooklyn once we realized what was happening.”

“Except that they’re not all insane. The red cloaks work along the lines of a hive, and there’s a queen bee controlling them all. He—the aforementioned queen bee—and a few others are not as affected by the virus as those with the scythe burned into their cheek.” I smiled grimly. “Unfortunately for you and us, that queen bee is working with De Luca.”

“Impossible,” Parella growled. “This virus poses as much of a threat to vampires as it does to humanity. He and his ilk would not risk it.”

I didn’t bother arguing the point. He could find out the hard way if he wished. “The problem for us doesn’t end there. Both scientists are alive and in their hands.”

“Again, impossible. I know for certain Baltimore was killed—”

“Because your people tortured and killed him? And took his research?” Jackson cut in.

Parella didn’t even spare him a glance. “Yes. And unless he ingested vampire blood—and I would have known had he done that—there is no way he could have survived.”

“He didn’t drink vampire blood, but he was somehow infected by the virus,” I said. “He recently walked out of the morgue and joined the red-cloak crew.”

“You know this for certain? How?”

“PIT told me.”

“Ah.” Parella contemplated me. “And what of Wilson?”

“If you believe the police and witness statements, he was attacked by red cloaks, and his body was dragged into the sewers to conceal it. We believe they dragged him down there so that they could keep an eye on him until the infection took over and he became one of them.”

“All of which is possible, but it does not explain your belief that De Luca’s faction is working with the red cloaks.”

“Did your faction kidnap both Jackson and me, and hold him hostage in return for the research notes Baltimore gave me just before he was murdered?”

“Obviously not, since we already have them.”

“Then you weren’t aware that I exchanged a rather special laptop containing those notes for Jackson up at Hanging Rock recently?”

“No, I was not.” His gaze swept over me, and though his expression gave little away, I very much suspected he was trying to judge whether I was playing him or not. “I gather they will gain no access to the notes on that laptop?”

“You’d gather right.”

“Excellent.” He paused. “Describe the man you met at the exchange.”

I did so. He swore. “That is undeniably De Luca.”

“Which is why I have no doubt he’s working with the red cloaks,” I said. “They were in the forest with De Luca and his crew, and attacked us the minute the exchange happened.”

“I cannot believe even he would sink to that level.”

“Believe,” a new voice said, “because it is very much the truth.”