“Shit,” Holly muttered. “We’ll never find out who started it unless Zeph or Arabella know. Things just erupt sometimes.”

The skinny vampire gang yet lingering in the same spot as earlier had no answers for them, either. “Heard there was a big fight here, came to see,” the one with the squeaky voice said through a haze of cigarette smoke, his skin a pasty white and his nails sharpened to points. “But it was all over by then.” A shrug. “Just the bottom feeders losing their shit.”

Holly felt her hand curl into a fist, but she didn’t plant it in the ass’s smug face. “Brynn, will you be okay?” She didn’t know how long Zeph and Arabella had been watching out for the other woman, or how well Brynn could survive on her own.

“I lost my things in the fight,” the mortal woman whispered. “I only got my blanket.” Brynn still had possession of the latter because they’d carried Arabella out in a sling formed of the blanket.

To Holly’s surprise, Venom peeled off several large bills and held them out to the skinny gangbangers. Dressed in white wife-beater tanks and low-hanging cargo pants in camo green or black, those stupid kerchiefs on their heads, they looked like children playing at being grown-ups. Holly wouldn’t trust them with her imaginary dog, much less a flesh-and-blood mortal like Brynn. But Venom wasn’t done.

“Use this money to get Brynn the food and supplies she needs, and keep her safe until her friends return.” His voice was mild as he added, “You really don’t want to cheat her, attempt to feed from her, or otherwise harm her. She is now under my protection.”

Irrespective of the wildly differing hues of their skin, the vampires paled as a group.

Their unintentionally choreographed response might have been funny in other circumstances, but tonight, all Holly cared about was knowing they were too fucking scared of Venom to defy him.

“No, sir,” Mr. Squeaky said. “She can hang with us. We got cattle at home, don’t need to feed from some other vamp’s donor.”

Brynn, her wrists and neck badly scarred from old bites, seemed happy enough with that solution. Wrapping herself up in her blanket, she joined the gang in their spot. Before Holly left with Venom, however, she made sure of the other woman’s safety by tapping into her own insanity until it colored her voice. “I have lots of eyes on the street. You’ll be watched.”

The cold words had the gang giving her a distinctly wary look.

Satisfied, she got into the car.

Venom drove straight to a twenty-four-hour clinic that catered to both mortals and vampires. The harried vampire physician on duty took one look at Zeph and Arabella and immediately hooked them up to blood IVs. “Best blood we have,” he said, his ebony skin dull with fatigue. “I sure hope you two are covering the bill or my ass will be on the line.”

“Send the bill to the Tower and it’ll be taken care of,” Venom said before Holly could respond. “We need to speak to them. Is there any chance either will wake soon?”

The doctor, dark circles under his eyes, took in both patients again. “Him, no chance. Her . . . give it a quarter hour and then, if you’re willing to donate half a glass of your own blood, you might be able to jolt her to consciousness.” A faint smile. “No clinic has access to blood as strong as yours.”

The wait was excruciating.

“Why did you help Brynn?” Holly asked as the two of them stood with their backs to the scratched and nicked wall outside Zeph and Arabella’s room.

In truth, she wasn’t expecting an answer, but Venom spoke. “The mortal reminded me of a girl in my village. Maina was as . . . innocent. Childlike while being a woman. Even though I was only ten to her sixteen, I already knew to treat her like I did my younger siblings, rather than like other girls her age. Her family married her off to an old man who beat her, until one day, she just didn’t wake up.”

So many memories in his head, so much dark history. “I’m sorry.”

“So was her family, but they were the ones who chose to think of her as a burden they had to shed.” Pausing after that harsh summation, he said, “The two within use Brynn as a donor?” The question was dangerously impassive.

“No,” Holly said at once, wanting him to know the hearts of the people he’d helped save. “Zeph and Arabella just pretend she’s their personal donor so that other vampires will leave her alone. It’s considered bad form on the streets to poach a donor who’s been claimed.” The two had been near starvation more than once and still never touched Brynn. “All those scars she has, they’re from before, when she was alone.”

“Maina’s family was high ranking in the village,” Venom murmured, “but your friends have more honor than they ever did. I’ll personally ensure they have no debts as a result of their medical treatment.”

Holly didn’t know why she did it; maybe it was the hopelessness she’d smelled in the squathouse, the hollow pain of a history that could not be changed, or because Venom had just ruined another suit jacket and pledged his own funds to help people he could’ve disregarded as not worth his time . . . but she closed her hand over his.

Neither one of them moved until the doctor returned to ask for Venom’s blood. He injected it straight into the IV, so it’d directly hit Arabella’s bloodstream. “That’s all I can do,” the doctor said afterward. “If she’s not awake in five minutes, she probably won’t come to consciousness tonight.”

A loud beep had the medium-height male rushing off to handle an emergency.

It was only thirty seconds later that Arabella’s swollen eyelids fluttered. “Zeph.” It was a croak.

“In the bed next to yours,” Holly told her, sliding two ice chips between the other woman’s bruised lips at the same time. “He’ll live, but you’re both going to be in the clinic for a few days.”

A struggling flicker of panic in the hazy blue of Arabella’s eyes. “I’ll pay,” she managed to whisper as the melting ice wet her throat. “Zeph . . . he can’t.”

It took Holly a second to understand. “The Tower’s taking care of the bill in thanks for your information about the bounty on my head.” Everyone had pride and this small lie would protect Arabella and Zeph’s. “You won’t have to sign up to serve an angel to pay it off.”

Her relief unhidden, Arabella turned to take in the sight of Zeph’s motionless form and of the IV running red down his arm. “Brynn?”

Yes, Holly thought, her outwardly powerless and broken friends had far more honor than many. “Safe.” She touched her fingers to an unbruised part of Arabella’s hand. “Do you know who did this?”

“Just a stupid fight. People acting crazy. Zeph said they smelled off, like bad stuff was coming out of their sweat.”

“It might be a new drug,” Venom said. “I’ll alert Janvier and Ashwini, have them follow up.”

Arabella had shivered at Venom’s voice, but found the courage to continue speaking. “Yeah, Zeph heard rumors of a new high.” A cough that shook her rib cage. “I made him promise a long time ago never to take any of the new stuff. Just honey feeds or I’d leave him.”

That was probably the only reason Zeph was still alive. “Is that why you and Zeph were calling? To tell me about the bad drugs?”

“No.” Arabella’s eyes fluttered. “We were hanging out in Times Square—I like the lights.” She smiled softly. “It got real crowded. I don’t mind so much but Zeph’s not good with it, so we found a place inside the closed doorway of a dress shop.”

Holly nodded, conscious that Venom had shifted so he was no longer in Arabella’s line of sight. “Did you see something?” People often didn’t notice those like Zeph and Arabella, who were used to fading into the shadows.

“No. Heard it.” Her eyelids fluttered again. “Two older vampires stopped near where we were hiding and we went real quiet because we know they’re mean. They were talking and one said, ‘Word came down straight from Walter Battersby. Score is solid.’”