“Corrrner of Marsharet and Joneshhboro.”
Robert’s eyebrows crept up. “The Fox Den?”
“Yessh.”
“Did you see with whom?” Robert asked.
Jardin shook his head. “But I sshaw him there twice.” He raised two long fingers.
“The Fox Den is a hit-’n’-split,” Robert said to me.
A hit-’n’-split was a lovely post-Shift euphemism. It wasn’t exactly a whorehouse and it wasn’t exactly a hotel. Most of the hit-’n’-splits were run out of converted apartment buildings. If you wanted to have sex with something that grew fur, scales, or feathers and you wanted to do it privately, you went to a hit-’n’-split, worked your kinks out of your system, and left with your humanity mostly intact. Nobody would be the wiser.
I’d run across a couple of hit-’n’-splits in my time with the Guild and the Order. Most operated under the radar. A prospective client somehow got hold of a phone number, called the management, stated their preferences, and paid the quoted price. In return he would receive a key in the mail. At designated times he’d show up at the apartments, use the key, get his freak on, then leave. It was an “at your own risk” kind of venture. No security, no front desk, no witnesses. The management charged both parties a flat fee, but there was no pimp and no madam. Everyone operated independently. If Mulradin frequented a hit-’n’-split, he had a fetish and he wanted to keep it hidden.
“Red brick building,” Jardin said. “Second one from the easht.”
“We need to get back to Centennial Park first,” I told him. I wouldn’t leave Desandra stranded. Not after what she did. As far as I was concerned, she’d earned whatever support she wanted from me.
“You can ushe the other tunnel, but you can’t leave now. The sshift change is in ten minutessh and they will do a shweep right past the entranshe.”
“How long?” I asked.
“Sssshoould be clear in forty minutessh.”
“We wait, then.” I curled against the concrete.
Ascanio landed next to me. “Are you still mad at me for coming with?”
“Yes.”
“It will be okay,” he told me.
Derek sat down across from us.
“Did you know about Ascanio’s master plan?” I asked.
“No,” Derek said. “But I saw him walk off into the woods while everyone was talking.”
“I don’t know Desandra,” Ascanio said. “I don’t know Robert either.”
“I do know Desandra,” Derek said. “Ascanio’s annoying, but extra backup is always nice.”
Robert chuckled quietly. “You two were planning to fight me?”
“Not planning,” Ascanio said. “Just ready. In case.”
Teenage bodyguards. I closed my eyes. It would be a long night and I needed every drop of sleep I could get. I let myself drift, as Robert’s and Jardin’s soft voices receded into drowsiness.
“Thank you, Jardin. This will help us tremendously.”
“Happy to hhhear it, Alpha.”
“Once we are gone, I need you to return to Rat House.”
“I have ennough food for two weekssh,” Jardin said. “I could be ussheful.”
“No,” Robert said. “You’re too valuable to us and this post is too dangerous. Your life isn’t worth the risk . . .”
Sleep cushioned me, like a blanket wrapped around my body.
? ? ?
THE SEA WAS smooth, like the surface of a coin. I was lying in the sand next to Curran. My cheek rested on his chest, his skin heated by the sun. My hand was on his stomach, the ridges of hard muscle hot under my fingertips. His right arm was around me and he was playing with a strand of my hair. Lazy waves splashed against our feet, warm and soothing.
“We have to get up, baby,” he said.
“No.”
“We have to get up. Tide is coming in.”
“Let it come,” I murmured. “I just want to have more time. There’s never enough time . . .”
“Kate . . .”
I hugged him to me.
“Kate.”
Something touched me. I moved. My eyes snapped open. I was sitting on top of Jardin, holding my sword to his throat.
It was a dream. It wasn’t real. Curran was still gone. I wanted to howl like an animal.
It wasn’t real.
Losing him hurt like a punch to the gut. I was awake and back to my nightmare.
“Ssshecond time,” Jardin smiled.
“Sorry.” I got off of Jardin.
“Pay up,” Derek said to Jardin.
The wererat rolled to his feet and dropped a dollar into Ascanio’s palm.
“Did the two of you bet him I’d do this?”
Derek’s eyebrows rose. “We can neither confirm nor deny that a bet took place.”
“But we have seen you wake up when you’re stressed out.” Ascanio winked.
“I can’t wait to get back to the Keep,” I growled.
“So the two of them would start bickering again?” Robert asked.
“Exactly.” This united Derek and Ascanio team was getting on my nerves.
Robert rolled to his feet. “Thank you again, Jardin.”
“I could ssshtay,” the wererat offered.
“No.” Robert said. “You’re going home. Your job is done. Now it’s time for us to do ours.”
He was right. Time to get it done and get out of here.
7
WE FOUND DESANDRA sitting in a tree above Cuddles. Her clothes were splattered with blood. She grinned at us.
“Lovely perfume,” Robert noted.
“Glad you like it.” She hopped off the branch. “I call it Dead Vampire.”
“How did you get away?” Ascanio asked.
“Please.” She gave him a look. “I’m a werewolf raised in the Carpathian Mountains and they can’t smell or track for shit. I can outrun them in my sleep.”
I mounted and we headed east. Twenty minutes later we turned south and made our way into the dense tangle of streets that was the Warren.
I rode Cuddles. Derek pulled ahead to scout; Ascanio ran on my left, Desandra and Robert on my right. The Warren peered at us with the black eyes of broken windows: mean, suspicious, and predatory, like a thug who’d gotten his face bashed in and was looking to get even. Jonesboro, the most direct route, was out of the question—too obvious and too well patrolled—so we wove our way through the twisted back streets. Long scars gouged the walls of the run-down houses, as if a tornado of steel blades had brushed by them. On Harpy’s Drive we passed a row of trees, each one with its trunk unnaturally bloated and covered with black fuzz. I had no idea what the fuzz did, but we steered clear of it. The law of navigating post-Shift Atlanta was simple: if you don’t know what it is, don’t touch it.
The moon was rolling down. It had to be around three in the morning. The winter night had caught the city between its teeth and bit down hard. Here and there an ancient vehicle hunkered down. The tips of my fingers had turned to painful icicles. Any colder, and I’d have to dismount and walk next to Cuddles just to warm up.
I wanted Curran back here with me. It was a completely selfish need, as urgent as breathing. I wanted to know that he was fine. I missed him. If I concentrated enough, I could conjure his voice in my head. Funny, yesterday I couldn’t wait to escape the Keep with him and run away to Black Bear Lodge. Now I would happily sit through a hundred Council meetings back to back for a ten-second phone call from him letting me know he was okay.