“Nick was acting strange,” Jamie said. “Even for him. Do you think he’s all right?”

He’d gone to the Coven with Dominic and Rook, but his sense of unease had only grown throughout the ride on the El and the short walk to the MWP building. One moment, everything had seemed fine with Nick—better than fine, even. Then he’d seen the murdered feral, and a transformation came over him.

Rook shrugged irritably. “Who knows, with Nick?”

Dominic, however, gave Jamie a close look. “Do you think something’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is Nick is an ass with a bad temper,” Rook snapped, before Jamie could say anything. “Fur and feathers, I’d like to knock him upside the head sometimes.”

Dominic sighed. “You don’t have to get angry on my behalf. A few rough words from Nick won’t break my heart, I promise.”

“He’s my brother, and he can either use a civil tone with you, or keep his mouth shut.” Rook folded his arms over his chest, shoulders hunching. “Last night, I actually thought he might be getting better. Might have learned we aren’t all his enemies. That we could work together. I should’ve known. Nick will never change.”

It was still early, so few of the other detectives had come in yet. As they reached the top of the stairs, Jamie saw Chief Ferguson’s door standing wide open. Neither the chief nor Athene were inside…but Lund sat behind the desk, a smirk on his face.

“Come in, gentlemen,” he called.

Dominic and Rook exchanged a startled glance. Dread settled in Jamie’s belly as he followed them across the room. “Where is Chief Ferguson?” Dominic asked once they reached the doorway.

Lund fixed his gaze on Jamie. “I see your charming familiar isn’t with you. Don’t worry—he won’t be joining us.”

It took a moment for the words to properly register. “What do you mean?”

Lund’s smile took on a razor edge. “I was informed early this morning that a judge issued a warrant to search Caballus for dangerous ferals. It seems your familiar has been hiding them illegally from the Dangerous Familiars Squad.”

Jamie shook his head vehemently. “Nick wouldn’t do that.”

Except of course it was exactly the kind of thing Nick would do.

“Another MWP familiar gone bad.” Lund offered them a look of mock sorrow. “The Police Board is very disappointed. First the MWP harbored a dangerous familiar within its ranks, who proved to be responsible for the death and injury of numerous important people last year. Now an MWP familiar is caught helping other dangerous ferals evade the law.”

Jamie’s throat tightened. He wanted to ask about Nick, but he didn’t dare betray his fear to this supercilious prick. “Where is Chief Ferguson?”

“The Police Board has removed him. I’m temporarily filling in for his position,” Lund said with relish. “Until a more suitable non-witch can be found.”

Rook made a small noise, quickly swallowed. Lund glanced at him. “As for you two, you’re both suspended without pay. Nick is your familiar’s brother, Detective Kopecky, and we have yet to rule out any sort of collusion between them.”

Jamie’s heart hammered in his chest. He knew he ought to be focused on the injustice of punishing Ferguson and Dominic for Nick’s actions, but the only thing he could think about was Nick. Had he been arrested? Was he being dragged to the Tombs now? Or would Uncle Hurley take him straight to the Menagerie?

No. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Detective MacDougal,” Lund’s voice cut through the haze. “I’ve been told to ask you to report to your uncle, say around lunch time. This business should be done with by then, and he can take your statement. We’re sure you would never have participated in this willingly.” He glanced in the direction of Jamie’s wooden leg. “It’s clear to us all the horse took advantage of you. I’m sure a better position can be found for you, once this is over.”

Cold rage sluiced through fear and left Jamie clear headed. If Lund wanted to see him as some sort of passive victim, then Jamie would use that to his advantage. “Aye, sir,” he grated out.

“Dismissed.”

Somehow, Rook kept from exploding until they reached the street. The moment they were out of hearing of the reporters, though, he let out a blistering series of oaths. “I’m going to kill Nick!” Rook raged. “Idiot! Once I’m done, there won’t be enough left of him to send to the glue factory.”

“Nay.” Jamie put a hand to Rook’s arm. “If he’s under arrest and you show up, they’ll haul you in, too.”

“Jamie is right,” Dominic agreed unhappily. “I don’t like it any more than you, but we’re in enough trouble as it is.” He rubbed his eyes. “The best thing we can do right now is go home and wait.”

“What about the murders?” Rook asked. “To hell with that, what about Nick? The fool is going to get himself killed, or sent to the Menagerie, or God only knows what.”

“I ain’t going to let that happen,” Jamie said firmly. He focused on the bond. “For right now, he’s still in the direction of Caballus. I’ll go straight there and talk to my uncle, or his captain, whichever is heading the raid. Get him to release Nick on my recognizance.”

How he’d convince Hurley to help, he had no idea. He didn’t even know what sort of evidence they might have against Nick. If it was just someone else’s word against Nick’s, they could surely find enough people to testify to Nick’s character and have the charges dropped.

But if it was more…

No. He couldn’t think about that. Just like he couldn’t think about the painful twinge deep inside, that Nick hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about any of this.

“Just wait for me,” he said, dropping his hand back to his side. “With any luck, Nick and I will both join you later. I’ll hold him myself, while you kick his arse.”

Rook didn’t look happy, but after a moment managed a shaky smile. “Deal.”

Jamie’s relief at finding no police outside of Caballus ended when he got a glimpse inside.

Everything that could be broken had been, from the piano against the wall, to the booze, to the chairs and tables. The air reeked of spilled whiskey.

For once heedless of the Familiars Only sign, Jamie stepped through the broken door. Nick sat at the only table not on its side, his head in his hands. At the sound of Jamie’s footstep, he looked up.

One eye had swelled nearly shut, and his lower lip was split. Blood from a cut on his scalp slicked one side of his face. But even worse was his expression of defeat.

Fury and the need to comfort battled in Jamie’s chest. “Saint Mary, Nick—” he started as he hurried across the room.

Nick held up his hand. “No closer.”

Jamie froze, swaying in place. “Nick?” He licked dry lips. “Did…did Uncle Hurley do this?”

Hurley couldn’t have. Not this. Not this destruction. Not beating his familiar until he bled.

Nick shrugged. “His captain did. O’Byrne.”

Jamie took a deep breath, trying to think through rage. “I’ll make this right. Once Uncle Hurley knows, he’ll have O’Byrne out on his ear.”

Nick’s laugh was bitter. “I doubt that.”

“You’re angry. Of course you are—look at this.” Jamie shook his head in disgust. What had been done here was deliberate, petty destruction, for no reason other than to try and put Nick in his place. “I’m going to do everything I can to help. But at least they didn’t arrest you. That means they didn’t find anything.” Relief loosened the tight muscles in Jamie’s back. Nick hadn’t been doing anything illegal after all. “I told that arsehole Lund you were innocent.”

Nick’s brows drew together. “Lund?”

Jamie nodded. “You have to come back to the Coven right away. The warrant against you was used as an excuse to seize control of the MWP. Chief Ferguson is out, your brother and Dominic are suspended, and Lund is in charge. But you’re innocent, they couldn’t arrest you, so that means we can put an end to this.”

Nick shook his head. “Don’t you understand yet? I’m not innocent, Jamie!”

Jamie had thought it himself, back at the Coven. But the reality hurt anyway. “You’ve been hiding dangerous familiars,” he said, the air thick in his lungs. “How long?”

“As long as we’ve been together.”

“And you never…you never told me?” Jamie flung up his arms in despair. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Why would I trust you?” Nick demanded. “You’re a witch.”

He felt as if Nick had punched him in the gut. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because we’ve moved past that!” Jamie shouted. “Because I love you!”

They stared at one another for a long moment. Nick’s throat worked as he swallowed. “I met Wyatt…because he was helping me smuggle fugitives out of the state.”

Jamie’s heart stuttered. No. Not this. Nick knew how he felt. He wouldn’t have lied about Wyatt.

“It ain’t true,” he managed to say.

Nick avoided his gaze. “I’m sorry, Jamie. I couldn’t take the risk.”

All the grief and the guilt, the wondering what Wyatt would have thought, where he’d been…and Nick had stood by silent. Keeping the answers to himself.

“You son of a bitch,” Jamie managed to say through the haze of grief and rage filming his eyes.

Nick flinched, as if Jamie had struck him. “I didn’t lie about anything I thought could help bring his killer to justice.” As though that would somehow make it all better. “I never knew anything personal, or where he lived.” Nick wet his lips. “He was one of my contacts. He would take dangerous familiars out of my hands, on to the next stop.”

“That’s why he was in New York?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know why he was in New York. But that’s what he dedicated himself to once he was here.”

Jamie touched Wyatt’s pendant where it hung beneath his shirt. Had he ever really known either of the men he’d given his heart to?

“You used me to get into the MWP,” Jamie said, and was amazed his voice didn’t break. “You lied about Wyatt. You slept with me, knowing I was a copper, knowing I could lose my job if you were caught with fugitives in your basement. Did you hope to use my connection with Hurley to save yourself, or sabotage the squad’s work?” His eyes burned. “How could you do this to me? I thought you—”

The words caught in his throat. Because of course Nick had never made any declarations of love. Never made any promises. And if Jamie had expected them, the more fool he.

“Jamie—”

“What I thought I had with you, what I thought I had with Wyatt…none of it was ever real at all.” Jamie became aware he still clutched the pendant through the front of his shirt. He forced his hand to relax, took one step back, then another, until he’d reached the door. “I don’t want to ever see you again. I wish to God I’d never met either of you in the first place.”

Nick sat alone in the ruins of his life.

All his hard work had come to nothing more than a wrecked bar and a wrecked heart.

He’d never regretted lying to a witch. This wasn’t supposed to have been any different. But the look of betrayal on Jamie’s face had seared itself into Nick’s very soul.

Telling Jamie the truth about his connection to Wyatt hadn’t been an option before. Not with the fugitives in his cellar, relying on Nick’s silence to keep them safe. The risk had just been too great.

He’d seen Jamie grieving the man, and he’d kept his mouth shut, and a part of him still didn’t know what he might have done differently. Maybe the day they’d gone to the Menagerie, he should have acted on his impulse to bare his soul. Jamie wouldn’t have turned him in, he knew that now.

He’d known it then. But he’d stayed silent, and pretended fear was really caution. And now he’d not only earned Jamie’s hatred, but tainted Jamie’s memories of Wyatt without ever having meant to.

God.

At least Jamie would still have a career, now that he’d severed ties with Nick. He could go on with his life.

O’Malley wouldn’t forgive Nick, not for Jamie and not for escaping his grasp this morning. The anti-fire hexes might keep the coppers from burning down the tenement, but O’Malley would find some way of making Nick pay. A knife in the kidney some dark night. A slip onto the tracks of the El.

Nick had no one to blame for any of it but himself. He’d known from the start he shouldn’t get involved with Jamie. Jamie of the kind eyes and boyish smile. Jamie, who brought him doughnuts for breakfast, and helped him with the books, and made love to him with such care.

His throat tightened. He’d told Jamie up front he wouldn’t be broken by any rough rider. But that had turned out to be just one more thing Nick was wrong about.

How long would Jamie wait to have their bond severed? Or, if there was trouble at the MWP, would he even be allowed to contact Tom?

Nick forced himself to his feet, ignoring the aches in his body. At least the fucking coppers hadn’t broken any bones. Of course, for all he knew, that was just because they’d meant to render him down for parts once he was arrested, and didn’t want to damage anything useful.

Anger was fuel, and he clung to it as he put back the still-serviceable tables and chairs, and set the others aside for repair or scrap. His entire stock of booze was gone; it would cost a pretty penny to replace, and he had no idea how he’d come up with the funds. Jamie would help him take a look at the books—

Nick closed his eyes against the stab of renewed pain. He and Jamie would never have worked.

But oh God, he’d wanted them to.

There came a soft knock on the door. Nick opened his eyes and turned. For a moment, he didn’t recognize the familiar hovering uncertainly in the doorway. Then the pale golden eyes came back to him. This was the familiar he’d seen at Ingram’s sermon that day he and Jamie went to the park to talk to Bess. The day the rain had trapped them in the Cave, and Jamie had grinned and asked if he let witches fuck him.

It felt as though it had happened a thousand years ago, or to someone else altogether.

“Yes?” Nick asked, more harshly than he’d intended. The familiar shrank back, eyes darting around at the wreckage nervously. “Sorry,” he said, holding out his hands before the young man could get too spooked. “There’s been a bit of trouble this morning. Nothing I couldn’t handle. What can I do for you?”

“My name is Simon.” The familiar swallowed. “I…I need your help.”

“Finally fed up with Ingram’s hate?” Nick asked sympathetically.

A nod. “It…I can’t sleep any more. I can barely eat. I don’t want God to hate me.”

“God doesn’t hate you.” Nick indicated a chair. “Have a seat. Let me see if I can find you something to eat.”

Simon shook his head. “No. That is, I-I can’t. I have a brother, who wants to leave too, but he’s afraid. I thought…I thought if he could see you, see how strong you are, he wouldn’t be so frightened.”

Weariness settled over Nick like a blanket. He longed to lie down and sleep for days, weeks, years. He didn’t want to wake up until the wound left behind by Jamie’s loss had scarred over, turned silvery with age.

But he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was try to help whatever feral turned up on his doorstep, for as long as he could. “All right,” he said. “Tell me when and where.”