Chapter Nine

2:30 P.M.


Phin had said downtown, and yet I still pictured a posh, glass-walled building with fancy landscaping and metered parking, maybe some nice hedges. The building he parked in front of was none of those things. The cement block walls hadn’t seen fresh paint this decade, cracks in the sidewalk sported dandelions and dried clumps of grass, and graffiti adorned the car permanently parked next to ours, its tires long gone. On the far west side of Mercy’s Lot, surrounded by bail bondsmen and porn shops, we arrived at Michael Jenner’s office.

“He’s a public defender?” I asked. The simple painted sign in the barred window said so, but I just couldn’t believe it.

“That surprises you?” Phin said.

“Well, yeah. I’ve never seen a P.D. who wears such fancy suits.”

“Only when on Assembly business, I assure you. He’s a pretty nice guy, if you give him a chance.”

“Undoubtedly.”

I let Phin take point, and we went in without knocking. The tiny reception room smelled of food spices—clove and cinnamon and something tart. Four scarred wood chairs lined the wall to our left. A vacant desk sat opposite the door, silent sentry to the room’s only other door. Besides a phone, a blotter, and a neat stack of manila folders, the desk was bare. No decorations on the walls, no magazines for visitors. Spartan was too kind.

“Must not be very good,” I said. “His services don’t appear to be in high demand.”

“He’s selective about his clients,” Phin said. “Keeps his time available for our kind rather than yours.”

Our kind. Fascinating. “Just weres, or Dregs in general?”

He grunted, just like before. Seemed he objected to the word “Dreg.” Not that it was meant as a term of endearment, only a reminder of how Triads viewed the nonhumans. Lesser creatures. Same way I’d always seen them. Until now, and I wasn’t sure what to do with my altering point of view.

I didn’t apologize, and Phin didn’t comment. He circled the desk and rapped his knuckles on the rear door. A muffled voice said, “Enter.”

Jenner’s office was as unimpressive as his waiting area. Simple oak desk, a single bookcase filled with texts and tomes of law. Two barred windows, boring cream curtains. A framed law degree. The wall to the right of the door was hidden behind an army of filing cabinets; I had no doubt each one was stuffed full, and not necessarily of past cases.

Michael Jenner sat in a brown leather desk chair, shirtsleeves rolled up, tie loosened, fingers steepled in front of his mouth as though contemplating a chess move.

I closed the office door behind me. Neither Phin nor I sat in the two wooden chairs opposite the desk.

“Ms. Stone,” Jenner said. “Phineas tells me you need information from the Assembly.”

“You get right to the point,” I said.

“Is that a problem?”

“Actually, it’s refreshing.”

“What proof do you have that the rest of the Clans are in danger?”

“Proof?” I looked sideways at Phin, who dutifully ignored me. Oh, wait, Jenner was a lawyer. “All I have is circumstantial evidence and a gut feeling, Your Honor.”

“Bi-shifting is a closely guarded secret among our people,” Jenner said, casting a cross look at Phin. “What makes you think I will risk the safety of those Clans based on your gut?”

“Whoever ordered the slaughter of the Coni and Stri may already know who the other bi-shifting Clans are,” I said.

Jenner narrowed his eyes. “Or you could be waiting to pass this information along to your friends in the Triads, so they can finish what they started.”

Phin caught me around the waist before I could get three steps. My face flared red-hot, on a par with my anger. His arms tightened and pulled me close to his chest. I didn’t fight hard. I hadn’t planned to hurt Jenner badly, just give him a pretty shiner to go with his fancy suits.

“Evy, don’t,” Phin said softly.

“How dare you?” I snarled at Jenner. Red colored the fringes of my eyesight. “How fucking dare you, you absolute asshole? Let go!” The final demand came out a shrill scream, unrecognizable as my own voice. Phin’s hold loosened; I tore away from him and stormed to the other side of the cramped room.

Jenner hadn’t moved, hadn’t even unsteepled his fingers.

“Accuse me of that one more time,” I said, hands clenched tight so they didn’t shake, “and there won’t be enough pieces of you to do a proper autopsy.”

He raised one slender, perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Your temper is going to get you into trouble, young lady.”

“It’s gotten me into trouble more times than I can count.” I inhaled, held the breath, then let it out through my nose. Wyatt had once called it a cleansing breath. It didn’t help. “Look, Mr. Jenner, I owe you shit, and I owe the rest of the Clans about the same. But I owe my life to Phineas and his people, and I will do my damnedest to protect them from the Triads, from vampires or goblins, and even from you.”

“They have nothing to fear from me,” Jenner said darkly.

“Says you. How the hell do I know for sure? I’ve known you for the grand total of thirty minutes, and to tell you the truth? Not impressed.”

“Your little attempt at reverse psychology is admirable but misplaced, Ms. Stone.”

Was that what I was doing?

“Even if you don’t believe her,” Phin said, “call the Elders to Assembly. Tell them what we’ve told you, and then let them decide. If nothing else, it will keep the other bi-shifters on alert for potential trouble.”

Jenner lowered his hands. They disappeared beneath the desk. He sat up straighter, some of his earlier disdain falling away. “I’ll alert the Assembly, but I can’t promise anything. Most likely they’ll vote to keep the matter internal. They don’t like to advertise weakness to the other races.”

I snorted. “Given what happened last week, I’d say you’re too late to keep a lid on that one.”

“Even so, I can make no promises as to their decision.”

“We had to come all the way out here for him to not tell me anything?” I asked Phin. “We could have done this over the phone.”

“Telephones can be tapped,” Jenner said. “I know my office is safe. I can’t say the same for other locations.”

Okay, he had a valid point. Dammit. I plucked a pen from the cup near his blotter and scribbled a phone number down next to last week’s date. “Call me if you get good news,” I said. “Otherwise, stay the hell out of my way.”

He stood; I’d forgotten how tall he was until I craned my neck to keep our gazes level. I tensed, unsure of his next action. He held nothing in his hands. They remained by his sides, no offer to shake. “The answers you want may not be as hidden as you think, Ms. Stone,” Jenner said. “We aren’t any more complicated than a simple fairy tale.”

I tried out that sentence several times but couldn’t make good sense of it. A casual “Good luck,” or even “Get the hell out of my office,” would have sufficed. Riddles wore me out.

“Yeah, okay,” I said.

“Thank you for seeing us,” Phin said.

“You really had to thank him?” I asked, after we’d left the public defender’s office behind and were once again on the sunny streets of downtown.

“Blanket rudeness isn’t in my repertoire, Evy,” he replied.

I rolled my eyes and leaned against the side of the car. “So we’re right back where we were, which is nowhere. The Assembly is a bust, and my only other lead isn’t doing anything useful until tomorrow night.”

“You’ve been working the investigative angle pretty well, but how about a more direct approach?”

“Meaning?”

“Who’s on your list of suspects?”

“The list of who’s not is a lot shorter.”

“So let’s whittle it down.”

“What do you suggest? Door-to-door interrogations?”

“If you want an apple, you don’t shake a pear tree.”

I blanched. Phin smiled.


Fifty years ago, the relocated train car had housed a popular diner. Once brilliant silver walls had faded to dusky gunmetal gray. Long lines of windows and a single arched door were boarded over, hiding any hint of the previously colorful glass and lights. Another landmark gone to pot, nestled between a struggling deli and a flower shop.

I hadn’t a clue why Phin had brought me here.

He walked up the cracked cement steps and grabbed the handle of a door held shut by a rusty padlock.

“Um, Phin?” I said.

The handle turned without the grind of old metal I’d expected. Hell, I hadn’t expected it to turn at all. The padlock disappeared as though it had never existed. Light, music, and the mouthwatering scent of fries and burgers drifted out of the open door. My jaw dropped.

Phin took my hand and led me inside. A faint buzz tickled the back of my neck as we passed over the threshold. I stared, slack-jawed, as we entered a bustling, sparkling diner that was right out of the past. The countertop shone. Bright neon lights ran along the ceiling, reflecting back on the shiny leather booths. Two cooks hovered over a crackling flattop, shouting at each other and waving spatulas in the air.

With room for about fifty and nearly full at three in the afternoon, the diner was anything but the decaying front visible from the street. Odder still, the crack-free windows showed perfect, sunlit views of the city street outside.

The door closed with the ding of a bell. A waitress in a blue apron sauntered over, heels clicking on the black-and-white checked linoleum. Her blond hair was speckled with various shades of brown and tan, but it was her bright copper irises that gave her away as a were-cat. Most wore contacts to pass among humans—not this one.

She gave me a brief once-over, then smiled brightly for Phin. “Hey, handsome,” she said, quite literally purring over him. “Why’d you bring the Sape?”

I bristled. I’d heard the insult in passing—a simple play on Homo sapiens—but never to my face. Phin squeezed my hand; I hadn’t realized he was still holding it. I let him, mostly for the look Kitty Cat gave me. Priceless.

“Why not?” Phin asked. “Did Annalee enact a ‘No humans’ policy since the last time I was here?”

“No such luck,” Kitty replied, without a hint of sarcasm. “There’s an empty booth in the back. I’ll bring you menus.”

Phin navigated our path through the crowded diner, weaving among patrons and dozens of conversations. I observed without staring and came to the simple conclusion I was the only person in the place who wasn’t a Dreg. Except for two vampires sitting quietly at the far end of the lunch counter, absorbed in their own chatter, the staff and clientele were exclusively were.

I slid into the back of the booth, facing the diner so I could keep an eye on comings and goings. Phin was grinning as he sat down. Before I could ask, the waitress returned with two menus. I looked at the laminated cover and snickered: “The Green Apple.”

“Drinks to start?” she asked.

“Coffee,” I replied without bothering to check the list. I’d smelled it faintly under the scents of fried foods.

“Wheat grass juice,” Phin said. “Thanks, Belle.”

“Coming up,” Belle said, and walked off.

“What the hell is wheat grass juice?” I asked.

“It’s good for you,” he said.

“So’s apple juice.” I’d be damned if the table didn’t have a mini-jukebox right next to the wall, nestled perfectly between a chrome napkin dispenser and the salt ’n’ pepper shakers. “What’re we doing here? Shaking apples? Meeting someone for information?”

“Lunch, Evy.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re eating lunch,” he said, like a patient schoolteacher. “Neither one of us has eaten since breakfast, and you’ll be much more effective if you’re not working off toaster-pastry fumes.”

“Okay, fair enough.” I was hungrier than I’d realized. “But why here, other than the obvious apple tree joke?”

“I like the food.”

“Bullshit.”

He tilted his head. “Are you judging the food before you’ve tried it? I assure you, it’s excellent.”

“No, I’m sure the food is great, but I call bullshit on that being your reason for bringing me to a diner that, one, obviously has a glamour on it for protection, and two, has a clientele that’s pretty exclusively Dr—nonhuman.”

“I admit, the glamour is to keep humans out,” Phin said. “We like having a few places to be among our own kind, without the threat of Triad interrogations or human interference.”

“Two things of which I’m both, Phin.”

“Call it another exercise in trust.”

I flopped against the back of the booth and surveyed the landscape. Two males and a female at the table next to ours. Male and female at the booth across from me. A woman and four children, all about the same age, diagonally from our booth—a litter joke raced through my head, but I kept it to myself. No one seemed to pay us much mind. If they knew I wasn’t one of them, they didn’t show it.

“Are you angry?” Phin asked.

I should have been angry. He knew I’d been a Hunter. I liked to control my environment, and I hated surprises. He’d taken me to an exclusively Dreg diner that humans couldn’t even see without first walking through the glamour, and then declared we were taking precious minutes out of our day to sit down and eat, when fast food was a smarter option.

Still … “No, I’m not.”

Belle returned with a round tray laden with a clay mug, a plate of creamers, a carafe of steaming coffee, and a juice glass of something thick and green. The green goo went to Phin. Belle put down the plate, the mug, then filled it to the brim.

“Ready to order yet?” she asked.

Phin shook his head. “Can we have a few minutes?”

Belle nodded and wandered off. I blew across the top of the coffee and sipped. Scorching goodness tore down my throat, strong and invigorating. I opened the menu. Glanced at the offerings. Cheeseburgers, steak sandwiches, bacon and eggs, club sandwiches, French fries—not a shocking thing listed.

“What is it?”

My head snapped up. “Huh?”

“For a moment, I thought your eyebrows were going to join your hairline. What surprised you?”

I closed the menu and pushed it away. “The food.”

“What about the food?”

“Looks like something I could get at Denny’s.”

There it was, that damned look. Furrowed brow, straight mouth, lips pressed so hard they disappeared. “You don’t really know much about us, do you?”

“Who? Weres?”

“Yes, Evy. Weres, Owlkins, and anything else you might want to call us.”

I placed my hands on the table, palms down, and sat up straight. “Look, I know I keep offending you with my word choices, but put your ass in my pants for a minute. The last four years of my life have been spent policing goblins and Halfies, and generally keeping the rest of the city off your collective scent. If it kills a human, I hunt it. If it’s a Dreg and it breaks a law, I kill it. Political correctness isn’t something I have a lot of time for.”

“Education is the greatest weapon we have against ignorance.”

For a non sequitur, that was pretty good, and it was a thought I’d had myself not long ago. He just should have saved it for a more relevant conversation. “This isn’t an interaction session, Phin. We aren’t battling ignorance.”

“Aren’t we? Humans have a long history of fearing what they don’t understand, and one of the biggest products of fear is hatred.”

There, laid out for me in a neat, gift-wrapped package, was the entire reason for this little exercise. Bring me to a were-owned and were-operated diner, let me see them in their natural habitat, and prove they were just like me so I wouldn’t fear them. So I wouldn’t hate them. As a civics lesson, it was somewhat effective. Only I wasn’t in school anymore.

“So you’re trying to do what?” I asked, tapping my fingertips on the plastic tabletop. “Educate me in the error of my Hunter ways? Show me how evil I’ve been for the last four years and what a fucked-up organization the Triads are?”

“More the latter than the former.”

“You had to bring me to lunch at a were-spot to do that?”

He traced his finger along the rim of his half-empty glass, three complete circles, and then stopped. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” My voice rose a notch. I struggled to return it to a normal, less noticeable level. “For Christ’s sake, Phin, quit with the cryptic-speak and say what you brought me here to say. I don’t communicate well in code.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to eat in a Sape-owned diner. Did that occur to you?”

My hands curled into fists, which I kept pressed to the table on either side of the cooling mug of coffee. “In a what?”

“Exactly.”

“Ready to order?” Belle asked, her voice sneaking up on us.

Neither of us looked away, neither backing down.

“Cheeseburger, medium-well, no onions, fries,” I said.

Phin’s left eye twitched. “I’ll have the same.”

“Okay.” Belle turned the two-syllable word into at least four, spun on her heel, and clicked back into the crowd. Forgotten instantly.

“You humans have a fondness for labeling things,” Phin said. “Yet you get upset when the tables are turned and you’re similarly labeled. You really think we Dregs don’t call you things behind your back?”

“I’m not that stupid,” I said. “I just don’t often meet one who’ll say it to my face so casually.”

“Because you’ll kill them for it?” He asked the question as though my killing something for insulting me wasn’t unusual. Or even questionable.

Bastard. “That’s how you see me? Someone who kills because she feels like it, and consequences be damned?”

“It’s the reputation you’ve created among my people and others, Evy, you and the Triads. You create and enforce the laws, you don’t allow us to police ourselves, and when we do break a law, the Triads are sole judge, jury, and executioner.”

“This is our city, Phin. We’ll police your people as we see fit.” I couldn’t believe I was still sitting there, listening to him proselytize about what humans were doing wrong in the course of protecting our city. And the half-million human beings living in it. I couldn’t believe it, but I didn’t get up and leave. Leaving meant losing the argument.

Phin’s eyes narrowed. “Then don’t be surprised when others begin to resist your rule.”

My heart pounded in my ears. I leaned forward, elbows on the table, never looking away from him. Saw my own fury reflected in his eyes. “If you know something about tomorrow’s meet-up at Park Place, you’d better spill it now before they’re mopping your blood off the nice, clean floor.”

He snorted laughter. “And here I thought we’d begun to understand each other. That’s not what I meant. Not even close.”

“Then what? You want to join the Triads?”

“Is that unreasonable?”

For the second time in ten minutes, my jaw dropped. I searched his face for signs of jest, any hint he was being sarcastic, and found none. Just the same earnest sincerity and keen observation he’d had since I met him that morning. God, but that seemed a lifetime ago.

“Seriously?” I asked.

“You sound so surprised. You employ Gifted as both Hunters and Handlers. Why not Therians?”

“Therians?”

“More specifically, Therianthropes. The Clans, Evy. It’s what we call ourselves. Personally, I find the term ‘were’ a little insulting, considering your human history with the word. I’m not a wolf, and I don’t change under the full moon. I’m Therian. I’m also Assembly representative of the Coni Clan.”

Speechless, I forced myself to remain still and not give away anything I was thinking. Feeling. Confusion, frustration, and anger churned into a potent storm that threatened to unleash its fury. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I didn’t blink them away. My chest hurt from holding my breath.

Instead of shrieking, I managed some smidge of control and spoke barely above a whisper. “What. The fuck. Do you want. From me?”

The hard edges of his face seemed to soften, and his lips parted. Forthcoming words died in his mouth as a ruckus broke out on the other side of the diner. I half stood, hand braced on the table, trying to peer past the heads of other folks who’d just started to stand. Phin shifted around in the booth, as curious as me.

“Get that talk on out of here,” Belle shouted, her voice ringing loudly over the buzz of hushed conversation and crackle of the flattop. “No one’s interested.”

“That why they’ve been hanging on my every word?” a male voice asked. Husky and thick. Couldn’t see him. “Because they’re not interested?”

“If they want to listen, let them listen outside,” Belle replied.

Someone moved and I finally spotted Belle, poised next to the counter, both hands on her hips. The target of her ire was still out of my sight, but the upturned angle of her head told me he was taller than her. And not intimidated by the were-cat waitress, if her shifting posture was any indicator.

“You going to kick out one of your own?” the dissenter asked.

Belle nodded. “And enjoy it, too.”

A squat man in a baseball cap got up from his table, leaving behind a woman and two small children and four ice cream sundaes. He turned the cap around backward and sidled up next to Belle, further obscuring my view of the drama. “Trouble here, Belle?” Ball Cap asked.

“We’re just talking,” the problem person said. “When did that become a crime in this city? Do we persecute our own now for supposed crimes? Isn’t that what the Triads are for?”

I bristled. Phin’s hand closed around my left wrist—the only thing that kept me from entering the fray. I focused on the warmth of his skin, the dual strength and softness in his touch, and kept myself grounded. Less likely to fly at someone—him included.

Conversation around the diner all but stopped as heads turned and previously oblivious patrons took notice. Someone nearby growled. The two Bloods at the far end of the counter were the only people ignoring the main event, uninterested in the were—no, Therian—standoff.

“Look,” Belle said, “I don’t care what you’re selling. This is a business, not a speech platform. Go stump on the sidewalk.”

“I believe I will, now that you’ve assisted me in a restaurant-wide announcement. Anyone who wants to hear more is free to meet me around the corner, by the green bench.”

Folks shifted and stepped aside. A man wearing a black fedora strolled through the path and out the front door, his exit punctuated by the door’s bell. Two teenage boys dropped money on the counter and darted after him, new followers eager to learn from a twisted leader.

I had no love for the Triads, considering how fickle they’d been with me over the last week—putting a kill order out on me without proof of wrongdoing and then suddenly welcoming me with open arms once I proved my innocence. At the end of the day, though, they existed to protect humanity. Right or wrong, they were coming under a coordinated attack. I had to know what Black Hat was up to.

Front door exit was too conspicuous, even though most diners had returned to their meals. Phin released my wrist. I sank back down into the booth, mind whirling. I had to get outside. “How far around the place does this glamour extend?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,” Phin replied. “Maybe a foot from the walls. Why?”

Because it meant Black Hat would be giving his sales pitch out in the open, visible to the general public. Any public who happened to walk by. Like me. “I’ll be right back.” I slid to the end of the booth and stood.

“Where are you going?”

“Little girls’ room.”

The look I got said he didn’t believe me. He started to stand as I walked away. Stopped when I did, in fact, head toward the bathroom. I’d caught sight of the “Restroom” sign as we were led to our table, halfway back to the front counter, set down a short corridor. I pushed open the door marked GALS, took note that the other door said GENTS, and slipped inside.

Two stalls, single porcelain sink, paper towels, and pink hand soap. Simple and functional. Now to suck it up and teleport my ass back outside to Phin’s car. Not an easy feat. I couldn’t see if someone was near the car or standing on my intended destination. My stomach clenched at the idea of teleporting into another person.

The bathroom door swung open. I stepped sideways to avoid getting hit. Phin slipped in and pushed the door shut. He leaned against it.

“What the hell, Phin?” I squawked. “You going to watch me pee?”

“No, but I thought I’d go with you.”

“If you have to go, the men’s room is next door.”

“I mean when you go outside and pretend to be an eager acolyte. No offense, Evy, but if the man running the show is Therian or worse, he’s going to smell you as human before you get a word in.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Thanks for your faith in me.”

“It has nothing to do with you. I don’t want you to underestimate the man who was in here recruiting.”

“Underestimating a Dreg is what got me killed the first time. I don’t plan on making that mistake again.” My purposeful use of “Dreg” seemed to roll right off him this time, so focused was he on not letting me go. Like I needed his permission. “Why? Do you have some sort of plan?”

“My people know the name Evy Stone, but they don’t know your new face yet,” Phin said. “Can you play Chalice for a little while?”

I nodded. “Who are you going to play?”

“The wronged Clan Elder who thinks the Triads will do anything to get out of actually turning over one of their own for his proper punishment.”

He said it without a trace of irony. So earnest that, for a brief moment, I just stared at him. And then he smiled, wide enough to light up his eyes, and I relaxed. A little.

“Let me guess,” I said. “I’m the doting girlfriend who will do anything for her amazing Coni lover?”

“Works for me. Let’s go.”

He turned and reached for the handle. I put my palm flat against the door and pressed. He frowned.

“Front door’s too obvious,” I said. “We don’t need to arouse more suspicion by running off before our food’s done.”

“You think Belle won’t notice that we didn’t return from the bathroom?”

“Don’t care.”

“Then what do you suggest? I fly us through the ceiling?”

“Time for you to trust me.”

“Does this have anything to do with your little jump from room to room this morning?”

I’d forgotten that Phin had seen me teleport once, by accident. What was the harm in doing it again? “Yep.”

He tilted his head, nodded. I held out my hands, palms down. He took them loosely. Tightened his grip when I tightened mine.

“This is going to feel weird,” I said.

I closed my eyes. I had no idea if he mimicked me or not. The gentle hum of the Break rose to the surface quickly, leaping to the forefront almost without thought. I grasped at those tendrils of power and then dug deep for familiar feelings of loneliness—my emotional tap into the Break. Thought of almost losing Wyatt (again) that morning, of how he wasn’t fighting by my side as he should be. Of working against the Triads while pretending to be with them—the closest thing I’d ever had to family.

My world buzzed and snapped. Everything seemed to melt away in a phosphorescent cloud, and we floated. The strength of Phin’s hands held tight. Sharp pain speared my abdomen, rushed through my guts, down my spine to my toes. Back up to my head, throbbing and pulsing, as we teleported through solid objects. I wanted to shriek but had no voice.

Through the pain, I pushed. Focused on the car and the sidewalk. Felt my feet once again on a solid surface. Blood leaked from my nose, down to my upper lip. Everything tilted. Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and I fell against Phin’s chest. Heard his heart thundering. My head ached; I panted for air.

“You’re right,” Phin said quietly. “That felt really weird.”

I snorted, earning another sharp stab behind my eyes. “Told you.”

“Do you need to sit?”

“I’m fine.” To prove it, I opened my eyes and pushed away from his chest. My aching head spun a little. I wiped the back of my hand over my lip, brushing away the blood. My body felt like a live wire, ready to fly apart at any moment.

He made that disbelieving face. “Ready to play this?”

“I’d probably be more convincing in high heels and a sexy skirt, but I can manage.”

“I think jeans and sneakers are plenty sexy.”

The off-the-cuff comment sent small flares of heat to my cheeks, and I was helpless to stop them. What the holy hell was I blushing for? One little flirtatious comment? I rolled my eyes skyward, too late to salvage my dignity. “Whatever. Are you ready to do this?”

“Almost. And please don’t hit me for this.”

“What—?” His mouth covered mine before I could finish and took my breath away. My hands flew to his chest, palms flat, but I didn’t push him. His lips were soft and his kiss firm, even as his heart jack hammered beneath my hand. My mouth was full of the taste of him. Sweet and strong and wild, like a mountain river—everything a bird of prey should be.

One arm circled my waist and pulled me against him, practically on my tiptoes. I should have been angry at the invasion of my personal space. Should have pulled away. Punched him for it, even though he’d asked me not to. I should have done a lot of things I didn’t do, because I was enthralled by the kiss. A kiss that had no sexual baggage attached to it. At all.

Phin let me go. I stumbled back, panting. Face flushed and wide-eyed.

“Don’t tell me that was for luck,” I said, my voice barely managing to rise above a whisper.

He shook his head, eyelashes lowered, a little embarrassed. “Not exactly. Therians have a developed sense of smell, and no one would have believed us as a couple if we didn’t, um, smell like each other.”

I blinked. “Well, that’s both logical and kind of disgusting.”

His mouth twitched. “The kiss or the concept?”

Instinct created a sardonic retort meant solely to wound and prevent his thinking I’d enjoyed the kiss—which I wasn’t about to admit—but somehow honesty won. “The concept.”

He smiled, and his blue eyes sparkled. The warmth and affection were meant for me, and as quickly as that knowledge swelled my heart, it also chilled me to the bone. No way in hell was I letting this happen. Phin was a job, a promise to fulfill, and even more important, he was a Dreg. Not the worst; certainly among the best I knew. Nonetheless, he wasn’t human.

Nonhumans are the enemy and not to be trusted, period. Basic thinking from Boot Camp, drilled into us over and over, day and night, during those first few weeks. It was part of our Triad mantra, driven home by video footage now shown on the first and last day as a trainee—video footage of a Hunter who had let his guard down with a Dreg and the violent price he’d paid for it. A scene I had witnessed firsthand my second week on the job.

“Evy?”

I snapped back into the present with a jerk of my head. Phin stared with a mixture of concern and wariness, lips slightly parted.

“Sorry, I’m fine,” I said.

“Okay, just one last—”

“If you kiss me again, I’ll deck you.”

He shook his head. “Not that. But please, Evy, no matter what happens or what they say, I need you to trust me to protect you.”

Phin had no idea what he was asking, because we had no idea how this little meet ’n’ greet would turn out. If we’d be accepted or attacked, or how much playacting we’d have to do in order to convince them we were sincere. He would be taking point on this one—a concept I had a lot of trouble with, since I preferred calling the shots.

I just didn’t have a choice. “I promise.” With more conviction in my voice than in my heart, I fixed a sunny smile and ran both hands through my hair. Too damned long. “Come on, before they move the meeting and all this is for nothing.”

* * *

We approached the meet on the same side of the street, working for the dual appearance of purposeful and casual. I had plastered myself up against Phin’s side, both arms looped around his narrow waist and cinched together possessively over his stomach. He draped his right arm across my shoulders, fingertips tickling my bare arm. Our strides matched perfectly, and we bobbed along like a set of mismatched conjoined twins.

Five people stood beside the rusty iron bench, four of them in a half circle around the man with the black hat. He was taller than the others, his actual build hidden beneath a bulky trench coat. The well-worn cliché that was his wardrobe made me want to roll my eyes. I abstained, settling for a silent snicker.

Two of the people in attendance were the teenage boys who had fled the diner. Maybe seventeen, they had similar brown-haired, pointy-chinned, round-eyed appearances. Probably siblings, or if they were Therian, at least of the same Clan.

The other two seemed to be a couple, midtwenties. She was the alpha in the relationship, standing straight-backed, shoulders sharp as clothes hangers, arms stiff at her sides. Her ankle-length blue skirt was free of wrinkles and belted over an equally pressed-flat blouse, several shades of blue lighter than the skirt. A pale blue knitted cap covered her hair and designer sunglasses hid her eyes, but nothing could disguise her ghostly complexion and rail-thin figure. Everything about her screamed vampire.

Except for standing on the sidewalk, late afternoon, in full sunlight. Just like Isleen two days prior, this female Blood was out in the open. One more thing I hadn’t looked into yet.

The young man with her wasn’t a Blood, but not necessarily human, either. He stood next to her, bouncing his weight from foot to foot like an eager child waiting for a bit of attention. He wore long sleeves despite the heat, hiding any potential bite marks. Only humans are susceptible to infection by a Blood’s bite; other species are free meals if they can be caught and kept. Unless she fed via syringe.

The conversation waned as we approached, and stopped altogether when we didn’t continue past. The black hat–wearing man on the bench regarded us coldly, his shadowed eyes giving off no light beneath the hat’s brim. No sign of life. He wasn’t Blood or Halfie, definitely not goblin or gargoyle. Had to be Therian.

“I saw you enter the Apple,” Black Hat said. His attention flitted from Phin to me, lingering on my face. I batted my eyelashes and drew my tongue across my upper lip, all the while pressing just a bit closer to Phin. Hoping my sign flashed: “Available for a Price.”

“I overheard you speaking to Belle,” Phin replied. “I was intrigued.”

“By which part?”

“Do you know who I am?”

“I know,” the pale female said. Her voice and the steep incline of her head sealed my impression that she was a Blood. A feather of white hair peeked out from beneath her hat. “Strange, then, to see you consorting with a human.”

The teenage boys growled low in their throats, shoulders hunching back and heads dropping. Positions of attack. It took every ounce of training to keep my body relaxed and to force out an effervescent laugh aimed at their posturing.

“Lucky for my little Chalice,” Phin said, “we met many weeks ago, before the humans became responsible for the slaughter of my people.” He winked in the direction of Black Hat. “She also has a very talented mouth.”

Mental note: Get him for that later.

“No doubt,” the Blood said.

I gazed at her from beneath lowered lashes, offering my best sultry half smile. “Want to test me?”

She bared her fangs. I giggled. God, this was embarrassing.

“You smell of blood,” she said to Phin.

Crap. He hadn’t changed his pants since the gym. Phin gave her a leisurely smile and said, “She got a bit frisky this morning. My Chal doesn’t have fangs like yours, but she knows how to use the teeth she’s got.”

Okay, that was sort of gross.

“My sympathies on the loss of your Clan,” Black Hat said. “However, the rumor mill has placed you among the humans several times over the last few days. Specifically with the Triads, so I ask you—”

“Why should you trust me?”

A nod.

“Because I know the Triads have been tipped off to your meeting at Park Place.”

I would have snapped his neck like a twig if not for the five other mixed enemies I wasn’t sure I could take alone. He’d just given up our only ace in the hole. Stupid, stupid, stupid son of a bitch.

Black Hat grunted. “And how do you know that?”

I tilted my head, giving Phin a sly look that said I was in on his little secret, even though I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. He had to be enjoying my necessary silence.

“Two Hunters rousted Mike’s Gym this morning,” Phin said. “Killed about a dozen half-breeds. One of them talked before it died. Mentioned the meeting place and who was welcome. It piqued my interest, as you can see.”

“Do the Triads know you’re playing both sides?”

“You give them too much credit. They think they’ve pacified me with their meager attempt at compensation, but how is one man’s life fair when hundreds were lost? When a species is nearly obliterated?”

A dark smile spread across Black Hat’s face, exposing perfectly pointed teeth. “You want to balance the scales.”

“I want a life for every life taken.”

The fury and bloodlust in Phin’s voice startled me. My heart thundered in my chest. He was a born actor, able to take any lie and make it the truth. Clinging to his side like a lovesick poodle, I believed his words, just as I’d believed him that morning in my apartment. I didn’t know which Phineas was the real him.

“You promised we wouldn’t talk about this today,” I said, affecting a proper whine. I traced my fingers down his chest and played with his belt buckle, poking out my lower lip in a pout. “You said we’d try out position number fifty-two after lunch.”

The Therian twins perked up. The Blood snorted, probably rolled her eyes, only I couldn’t see past those damned sunglasses.

Phin nuzzled my cheek with his nose, warm lips leaving damp kisses all the way to my ear. I expected a whispered admonishment; I received a playful nip on my earlobe. “We’ll play later, I promise,” he said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You keep promising,” I said with a weary sigh.

“But does he keep those promises?” Black Hat said. “That’s what I want to know.”

I put one hand on my cocked hip and stood up just a little straighter. “Well, one time he promised me three orgasms, and I only had two.”

My deadpan delivery made him smile more broadly, revealing more of those horrible yellow teeth. The guy needed an introduction to a dentist, for sure. “So the Triads know about our little meeting,” he said to Phin. “Have they discussed their plan with you?”

“Surveillance of the area,” Phin said. “They’ll have teams in place for a coordinated attack on anyone who assembles there.”

“So the location changes?” Blood Lady asked.

Black Hat didn’t reply. He continued to study Phin, ignoring me now as he might an acknowledged physical deformity. “How can I be certain you’re telling me the truth? How can I trust you?”

“That’s up to you, I suppose,” Phin said. “You know who I am, and you know what I’ve lost. I owe humans nothing and have no qualms about killing them.”

“Would you kill her?”

I stared at the black-gloved finger pointing right at me and worked to keep my pulse from racing.

Phin shrugged. “If I had to, but she truly does have an extraordinary mouth.”

Black Hat reached inside his trench coat and withdrew a switchblade. He flipped it open with practiced ease, the steel glinting in the sunlight. Phin caught it in one hand and tested the weight. I eyed it, trapped between self-preservation and the ridiculous promise I’d made to trust that Phin could pull this off. That he wasn’t going to betray me.

The vampire female licked her lips, white skin glowing. “So prove it, Phineas el Chimal, if you be with us or with them.”

Trust him! Half my brain screamed it, while the other half shrieked, Run, fucking idiot!

Phin met my gaze, and for the first time since our introduction, I couldn’t read him. Had no idea what he was thinking or planning. He’d gone blank. I shuffled sideways. He grabbed my left wrist, his grip iron-tight. I yanked, tried to shake free.

“Sorry, honey,” he said.

“Phin, don’t.” I didn’t have to fake my fear.

He tugged; I stumbled toward him, raising my knee to deliver a firm kick to the crotch. He spun me so fast I lost my balance. Fell with my back to his chest, one arm pinned behind me. I clawed at his arm with my free hand, sufficiently alarmed when his slid upward and pressed to my throat. Not quite hard enough to choke. I felt the cold blade at the top of my breasts, flat against my breastbone.

He kissed my ear again. Whispered, “Trust me,” in a leaf rustle of volume.

Trust—a tall order when he was holding me like that.

The vampire chick leered at me, fangs exposed, practically drooling for the sight of my blood. The Therian teens gaped at the drama playing out for them like their very own home video. Black Hat showed no interest. The alley was quiet, too quiet. No one to see us, no one to interfere.

“Phin?” I croaked. I trust you.

He spun me again, this time to face him. I thought he meant to try another kiss, a nod or shake to communicate our plan of attack. Instead, he stabbed me in the stomach.

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