“A Transfer charm. Oh, thank the gods. I need this.” The talisman would allow me to step off the Crossroads to a destination other than the one I had entered from. And that would save my butt. I was about to thank him, when Queet vanished.

  Now even more worried—both my lover and my spirit guide were in trouble—I hurried toward the exit. I always saw it in my mind as a flickering arrow of green energy, like an exit sign in a shopping mall. Holding the talisman tightly, I visualized the intersection in front of Dream Wardens and then shifted. As the mist and fog of the Crossroads swirled around me, I felt myself sliding through the layers that divided realities. Then, in one long blink, I was standing in the middle of the street in front of Jason’s shop. The Market Square clock was chiming nine p.m.

  I raced up the stairs tucked away between Dream Wardens and Up-Cakes and, not bothering to knock, barged into Jason’s apartment over the shop. Hans and Greta were in the living room, and Hans leapt to his feet, reaching for his dagger, but stopped when he saw it was me.

  “Fury, what’s wrong?” The burly Viking’s words drifted off as he homed in on my face. “What happened?”

  Greta had also jumped up. Six feet tall, her long golden hair was bound into two thick braids. She was amazingly built, so statuesque and muscular that one look would be enough to scare any perv looking to bother her. But her eyes glittered, a startling blue, and her expression was far more gentle than one would expect from a Valkyrie in training.

  “Jason? Jason, get in here!” I gave the pair a nod as I stripped off my scabbard and leaned Xan against the wall.

  Jason entered the living room, a pan of noodles in hand. “Fury? Are you that hungry?” He stopped when he saw my face. “What’s going on? One moment.” He darted back in the kitchen and returned without the food.

  “Has Tam checked in with you in the past twenty minutes?”

  They all shook their heads.

  “No, should he have? What happened? The ghosts get the better of you?” But the flippant tone on Jason’s tongue died as I shot him a withering glare.

  “Damn it. Damn it to hell.” I slowly eased myself down into one of the recliners and pulled out my phone, checking to see if Tam had managed to text me. Nothing. I quickly sent Hecate a text before continuing. Then, the adrenaline suddenly leaving my body, I collapsed against the chair, looking at the others mutely.

  “Fury, what’s going on?” Jason knelt beside me. “What happened out there? Seriously, did one of the ghosts hurt Tam?”

  “No.” Not wanting to verbalize it, I let out a shuddering breath. Putting something into words always seemed to make it real, but I had to tell them. “I think they caught him. I think they arrested him.”

  White as rice, Jason abruptly sat down on the footstool next to me. “Oh, crap.”

  “How do we find out? I can’t go to the precincts and ask. I’m afraid to call him because what if they do have him in custody and use that to find me? Or what if he escaped and I call, and he’s hiding and they find him because they hear the phone? He never keeps it on vibrate.” I realized that I was starting to melt down. Now that I was actually with friends, it was safe for me to fall apart.

  Jason wrapped an arm around my shoulder. He looked over at Hans. “What do you think? You have contacts in the precincts. Can you find out what’s going on?”

  “I’m on it.” Hans stood, his face a blank canvas. But his voice was roughshod, holding every fear I was feeling. “I’ll be back. I have to watch how I step with this one, because though I trust Gregor as far as I can, the fact is you never really know the truth about anybody unless you’ve linked blood with them. And even then, people can turncoat you. But if the Paggymen have Tam, I’ll do my best to find out.” Hans had no love for the authorities and delighted in using the street slang for them. He turned to Greta. “Stay here, my Strudel. I’ll be back for you as soon as I can. Do what you can to help.”

  “Of course,” she said, kissing him lightly. “Go and Thor be at your back, Dumpling.” She reached up and stroked his bald head lightly. “Remember, you owe me a wedding.”

  And with that, Hans was off, out the door, just as Shevron, Jason’s sister, entered, carrying two large pink boxes that she slid on the table. Pastries for dessert, no doubt, from Up-Cakes, her bakery next door.

  “What’s the hurry?” She looked at Jason, then at me and then Greta. “What’s going on? You all look like you’re headed to a funeral.”

  I filled her in on what had gone down and she muttered a sharp curse. “Those damned Devani will be the death of us yet. One day, the Conglomerate is going to look around and realize they’ve handed over the reins to that lot, and guess who’s going to be in charge of us then? They should just ship them all home to Elysium and bar that portal. The Devani are dangerous. Mark my words.”

  Greta wandered over to the box and opened it, removing the apple pies that Shevron had brought. The scent of cinnamon and apple filled the room. “Jason, finish plating up dinner. We can’t do anything right now but wait, and Fury needs food. Look at her. She’s pale as a sheet. Not only was she out on the Crossroads, but she dealt with a bunch of wayward ghosts.” She paused, turning to me. “I can feel the residue around you, and you need to cleanse yourself. The residue gunk oozing in from the astral is wearing you out.”

  “As much as I hate sitting here while Tam might be in danger, I think you’re right. There’s nothing we can do without more information. We’d probably just make things worse.” Jason headed back into the kitchen.

  Shevron set the table. I wanted to help but I was exhausted and afraid, and the combination made me want to curl up in a ball and close my eyes until Tam was home safe and sound. I drew my feet up beneath me on the sofa and stared at my phone, willing Tam to call, but by the time dinner was on the table, we still hadn’t heard anything.

  Hans returned just as we were dishing up the spaghetti and garlic bread. As he let himself into the apartment, I started to rise, but he shook his head.

  “Sorry, Fury. I don’t have any news. My contact wasn’t able to find out what happened. He doesn’t have clearance. Apparently, the event isn’t listed on the general blotter as anything but ‘an incident’ and there’s no file linked to it, which means it’s all hush-hush. None of the Paggymen who were at the riot with the Devani are talking. And of course, there’s no way in hell the Devani who were there will say anything to anybody.”

  I sat down again, returning to my food as Hans joined us at the table. I forced myself to eat. Even though I had no appetite I knew that Greta was right and it wouldn’t do Tam or me any good if I didn’t keep up my strength

  Shevron pushed back her plate. “I don’t mean to change the subject, but I have a problem. Jason, I’d like you to talk to Len.” Len was Shevron’s fifteen-year-old son. He was half hawk-shifter, although the shifter side had bred true for the most part but in his case, his human side was very evident. He was generally a really good kid.

  “What’s going on?” Jason frowned. “And why me?”

  “He loves you, and he looks up to you as a role model.”

  “What’s he gotten himself into?” Jason was all about family. The Cast stuck together, and the families making up the Cast stuck together. Hawk-shifters were a tight-knit group. A lot of the shifter clans were.

  Shevron grunted. “Have you heard of a vampire named Kython?”

  Jason shook his head. “No,” he said, looking at the rest of us. But neither Greta, Hans, nor I had heard of him either.

  “Kython’s popular up in the NW Quarters. He lives on the edge of the Tremble and is head of a cult called the Kythonic Dreamers. And Len is far too interested in them. I’m afraid he may be getting ready to run away and join them. The damned vamp appeals to youth, especially those who feel alienated. And like it or not, Len feels outside the Cast since his father wasn’t a hawk-shifter. I try to remind him he’s a full member, but a few of the old biddies are very vocal about blood li
nes and they talk where he can overhear.”

  “Crap. He’s getting interested in vampires? That’s a deadly road to walk. I’ll have a chat with him and see if I can detour him from any stupid ideas. You might want to put him into Celsa’s boot camp.”

  I frowned. I had been around hawk-shifters over half my life now and had never heard of Celsa. Apparently, neither Greta nor Hans knew who they were talking about, either, because they looked just as puzzled.

  Shevron leaned forward, her eyes glittering as she scowled at Jason. “You really think I’d subject my son to Celsa’s vision of how a good little hawk-shifter should act?”

  “You have to admit, his program works.” If I didn’t know Jason, I would have thought he was angry with her, his voice was so sharp. But hawk-shifters could be ruthlessly logical and yet not mean to upset their friends. It was just their nature.

  “His program works because he scares the hell out of those kids. I won’t do it.” Shevron suddenly deflated, slumping back in her chair. “Not unless it’s the last option I have. Leonard is very sensitive. It’s his father’s blood. I don’t like to admit it, but truth is, he isn’t fully Cast. He can’t ever hope to be, not with his inability to control his emotions. I don’t want to see him hurt. I don’t want to see him broken, Jason.”

  Jason relented. “Yeah, I know, sis. I’ll see what I can do. Maybe he’ll still listen to me. I’ll have a talk with him tomorrow, okay?”

  Shevron nodded, and we finished our meal in silence.

  Chapter 6

  Shevron dropped me off at home. She had driven over to Jason’s in order to avoid dealing with the Monotrain. We didn’t even bother with a pretense of talking. Neither one of us was in the mood to discuss the two main problems we were facing. I was more than grateful that hawk-shifters weren’t gabby by nature. Shevron had taken over as my surrogate mother when I landed on Jason’s doorstep, and she had always been there for me but now she was facing her own concerns. I wasn’t about to put even more weight on her shoulders by using her as a dumping ground for my own fears.

  Shevron dropped me off, waiting to make sure I got in the building. As I headed through the secure door, I waved and she pulled away from the curb.

  Security building though it might be, the Kings Cross Apartment Building didn’t have an elevator, necessitating a four-floor climb. But the building sat on the edge of Idyll Inlet, and though my apartment was a small suite—one bedroom, narrow living room, bath, and a tiny kitchenette—the view made it worth the rent and the inconvenience.

  As I let myself in, then coded the locks that barred my front door, I held my breath, praying that Tam would be there. Or Queet. Or both. But I was disappointed on all counts. The apartment was empty, and the tiny slice of the world I called my safe haven suddenly felt cavernous and lonely.

  I shoved the leftover pie in the refrigerator and checked my messages again. Nothing except a note saying my rent was a week overdue. Wearily, I went to the front panel next to the door where the locks were located and slid the cash card that Captain Varga had given me into the pay-slot, tapped in the amount to deduct, and within seconds, rent was taken care of and the landlord off my back until the next month.

  Tired, but feeling at loose ends, I opened the curtains and turned off the lights. The view looking out over the inlet always calmed me. My element was fire, so water helped me relax, tempering the constant feeling of heat that ran through my body. It was like I was a live wire, and water temporarily disrupted the circuits so I could rest.

  Finally, out of options, I sat on the ottoman, facing the window. I debated calling Tam, but reluctantly decided against it. Even though he had encrypted my phone, the Devani weren’t stupid and they could probably trace it back to me. So I did the next best thing. I called Hecate.

  She didn’t answer, so I texted her again, begging her to get in touch with me as soon as she could. Another five minutes, and I knew that watching the water wasn’t going to do it tonight. I wouldn’t get any sleep without help.

  I trudged into the bathroom, popped three tabs of Sleep-Eze for six hours of uninterrupted sleep. Feeling like a traitor for not sitting up waiting for word of Tam, I crawled into bed and hugged his pillow tightly to my chest. His scent was on it, and as I drifted off to sleep, it almost felt like he was embracing me.

  The alarm went off at six. Squinting, I floundered for it, then gave up and used the vox control to turn it off.

  “All right, shut up! Alarm, off.” As I pushed myself up to a sitting position, I yawned and grabbed my phone to see if Tam had called during the night. Nothing. But there was a text from Hecate, telling me to get my ass down to the temple as soon as I woke up.

  “About time,” I muttered, tossing my phone on the bed.

  A quick rinse-off later, I dressed in leather shorts, a warm turtleneck, and my duster. A glance out the window showed a dusting of snow, and the slow drift of lazy flakes gliding down. Snow meant my sturdy ankle boots with skid-proof soles. Then, fastening Xan’s scabbard over my back, I shifted until the sword was comfortable, then strapped my dagger and sheath around my left thigh. Locking the door, I headed out into a world turned white overnight.

  “Coffee. Hot and strong.” I blew on my fingers as I stopped by the coffee stand opposite my building. “Damn it, I forgot my gloves.”

  Coffee Guy—I didn’t know his name and asking him would invite too much familiarity—handed me a large cup. “Winter’s brewing. Fingers gonna freeze.”

  “Yeah, but what are you gonna do?” Giving him a wave, I headed for the Monotrain platform. The train bound for the Peninsula of the Gods was just pulling in. I slid Xan off and and rested the scabbard between my feet, leaning the hilt against my shoulder as I struggled to drink my coffee without spilling it.

  “You’re a Theosian, aren’t you?” The voice interrupted my thoughts.

  I looked up to see a ratty-looking bogey staring at me from the opposite seat. Actually, he looked like one of the Broken rather than a bogey. He seemed more sad and vague than scary.

  “Yes, I am.” There was no use denying it. We all had an aura about us and while not everybody could place us at first look, eventually most people figured out we weren’t human. I flashed him a smile.

  The man was wearing a threadbare jacket. His jeans were grungy and beneath the jacket, he was wearing a wrinkled plaid shirt. His cap was pulled down over his ears, and his shoes had holes in the toe box. The soles were probably worn through, as well.

  He returned the smile with several missing teeth. “Do you live around here?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do. You?” It never hurt to chitchat with strangers on the train unless they were batshit crazy. Never knew what kind of info you might pick up.

  “I live at Evermore.” He held up a government identity tag that hung around his neck. That explained a lot.

  Evermore was an institution. Facilities, they called them now. Rules were in by the shelter’s designated curfew for dinner, stay the night, then out in the morning after a sparse breakfast. The “shelters” offered showers, and the barest of a health ward.

  Anybody down on their luck could apply, but only if they agreed to be chipped and put to work at any job the Conglomerate saw fit to hand out. In return, they could stay as long as they liked. The shelters for men and women were segregated, and if families applied, their children were thrown into government foster care. It was a rough life, and one I wouldn’t wish on an enemy.

  “What’s your name?” I was lonely. Talking to somebody else would stop me from running through all the lethal scenarios Tam could have gotten into.

  “Gin. Short for Gino.” He paused, then wiped one hand across his eyes, as if trying to clear away cobwebs. “I don’t always remember my last name. Guess the tags are good for something,” he added, trying to laugh.

  I thought about giving him some cash, but if the shelter found it on him, they’d take it away. The poor weren’t allowed any real creature c
omforts or kindness if they were accepting government help.

  “That coffee?” Gino stared at my steaming cup with a wistful, nostalgic look.

  I cleared my throat. “I don’t seem to be all that thirsty this morning. Would you like my coffee? I’ve only taken a few sips and I’m not sick.”

  “Sure, sure.” He reached out with unsteady hands and I carefully handed him the cup. As he brought it to his lips, he smiled.

  I leaned back, thinking how much I hated the government. They’d give him Opish free if he wanted, but not a cup of coffee. At least, not outside of the two sparse meals a day.

  As I got off the Monotrain and headed for the Peninsula of the Gods, I thought I saw him follow me, but a glance back at the crowd showed no one there. Shaking away thoughts of Gino and his coffee, I plunged through the gates leading into the temples.

  The Peninsula of the Gods was protected from everyone, including the Conglomerate and the Devani. The soldiers didn’t dare pass through the gates, and neither did the Abominations. The gods ruled supreme and the entire area was considered Sanctuary.

  The peninsula was rectangular. At least, the actual campus that sat on the land was. Five tiers deep, staircases led down to the center, stopping at each tier. Elevators on all four sides offered access to those who didn’t feel like tackling the steps. Mini-malls with food courts and restrooms offered places to sit. Moving sidewalks encircled each tier, carrying supplicants past all the temples as they made a complete circuit.

  In the center of the campus, at the bottom, was a pond into which rainwater filtered, and pumps beneath the pond drew off the excess during the rainy season. The water was then recycled for city use. During winter, the pond froze over to create a fountain of ice. Ice sculptors would create a frozen landscape of beauty to please the gods. Now, the gardens surrounding most of the temples were covered with snow, creating a silent blanket that muffled the sound.