"Let's see if we can find out anything more.” Gil reached forward to grab unconscious Lorna's hand, then hesitated before touching the cast. Her eyes slid over the prone body, and she laid a hand on the girl's face. “Wake up, Lorna."

Once again, I felt a small change in the air around us. The muscles twitched in Lorna's face, and her eyes swam behind their swollen lids. After a few moments, her face calmed again, and Gil made an agitated sound in the back of her throat.

Nathanial shook his head. “She has a lot of drugs pumping through her. Combined with being half-dead, I do not think you will be able to wake her."

Gil gave him a less-than-friendly look. “How can you tell she is full of drugs?"

"I can smell them. And, the nurse said as much. Besides, anyone in her condition would be seriously medicated."

"Smell? You can smell the drugs? That's unusual.” Her eyes went distant as she made a mental note. When she refocused, she glanced at me. “Do you remember anything else about her?"

I shook my head and took a step closer to the bed. Lorna's bruised and broken face did nothing to jog details in my memory, though it did make the roof of my mouth tingle with hunger. I took another step closer, my thighs brushing against the blanket hanging off the side of the bed. Lorna smelled like raw meat, maybe slightly cold and sterile. I had the feeling her blood would taste sour. Regardless, pressure built in my mouth as my fangs lengthened.

Nathanial pulled me away from the bed.

"The sour smell is from the drugs,” he whispered.

I froze, the reality of what had been going through my mind sinking in. Jerking away from him, I fled the room. In the hall, a man in blue scrubs let me know in no uncertain terms that visiting hours were over. I walked away from him. Gil could deal with it. She was good at that.

Nathanial caught up with me before I made it to the waiting room.

"Why do I want to take a bite out of everyone I meet?” I glared at him, angry tears threatening to spill into my eyes. “It's vile."

"If you would feed, you would not be tempted every time the opportunity arose.” He leaned down until our faces were inches apart. “Think about it, Kitten, if you are starving, everything on a menu looks good. Not quite so hungry, and you are more willing to be picky."

"Don't call me Kitten. Only Bobby calls me that, and I hate it."

"You didn't used to.” Bobby's voice was a deep rumble behind me.

I crossed my arms, hugging myself hard, and stepped away. Bobby looked from Nathanial to me, and then made a point of placing himself between the two of us. I hit a metal panel on the wall, and the doors slid open. Gil had to run to catch up as I stormed into the waiting room. The red-headed receptionist looked surprised to see us, but then went back to her computer like we weren't really there. The couple in the back of the room jumped up as I entered.

"You're investigating my Lorna's case?” The woman grabbed hold of Bobby's coat and clung to him. “When will the monster who did this be put behind bars?"

Bobby shot a helpless glance at me.

How was I supposed to know what to do? I looked at Gil. She frowned and pulled on her coat sleeves. Where had her take-charge personality gone?

Nathanial finally spoke. “Finding him is our top priority."

The man soothed his wife until she released Bobby's coat, and she collapsed against her husband, sobbing. He looked back at us. “You're very young to be investigators. What are you, police? FBI?"

Gil stepped forward and patted the distraught couple on their shoulders. “We're sorry for what happened to Lorna. What she must have gone through, no one should ever have to face."

The woman visibly relaxed, but the skepticism on the man's face grew.

Gil hurried on, “We're private investigators, yes. We were given the case by someone who felt the police wouldn't be able to solve it."

The magical charge touched the air again, and the man's puzzled look vanished as he smiled the smallest bit and nodded. “So, someone high up paid for the best? Good."

We left before they could snap out of whatever spell Gil had put on them.

"Why not tell him we were from the FBI?” Nathanial asked as we wove our way back through the halls of the hospital.

Gil balled her hands on her waist. “Because we aren't."

"But they didn't know that,” Bobby said.

"The spell doesn't work that way. That would have been a bold-faced lie."

"So, you can't magically hypnotize people if you lie,” I asked slowly. “Or, you're incapable of lying?"

"It's not magical hypnosis.” Gil sounded defensive, but she waited until we'd crossed the lobby and the exterior doors slid closed behind us before continuing, “It's a simple compulsion spell. I'm a scholar. I have to be able to collect information. But the spell works on a trading system. I have to give the target true information and a plausible reason to cooperate. Luckily, creative truths work quite well. Where to next?"

Nathanial looked up at the sky. “I have to take Kita home soon. There is—"

"I'm not going anywhere with you,” I snapped, “and I don't know anything about this home place."

"She can come with me,” Bobby said, his arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders.

I shrugged him off. “I don't need either one of you to take care of me. I've been on my own for the past five years, and I'm doing fine.” I started down the street, so I didn't have to look at Bobby's hurt expression.

"Kita, you have a couple new sunlight restrictions now,” Nathanial said, catching up to me. “You cannot wander around hoping to find a place to sleep. If a single ray of sunlight falls on you, you could be hurt, possibly killed."

Bobby was only a step behind him. “There is a basement where I'm taking her."

Great, a basement, probably in a safe house where rogues and strays were kept until the gate opened and they could be hauled back to Firth. If I went to a safe house, I'd never come back out. Bobby's pissing contest with Nathanial was going to get me captured. That realization finally made it through Bobby's jealous haze, and he actually looked at me instead of Nathanial.

"We'll get a hotel room,” he said. “We will make it light-tight. I'll keep you safe."

"I doubt you know how,” Nathanial scoffed, and Bobby's step faltered. I hesitated, the air on the street too thick to breathe as Bobby's anger poured off him.

"Shut up, both of you.” I didn't need anyone to keep me safe. What I really needed was a solid lead so I could find the rogue.

Nathanial smiled, a haughty tilting of his lips, but he changed the subject. “We need to determine our next move, and I would suggest somewhere quiet. That twenty-four-hour diner over there might work.” Without waiting for anyone to agree, he steered us toward the restaurant.

He opened the door to the restaurant for me, and I stood aside to let Bobby and Gil enter first. Once they were inside, Nathanial and I stared at each other, neither saying a word. His smile melted away, but he waited, his stillness accenting my impatience as I shuffled from foot to foot.

He shook his head, but conceded and walked inside. Halfway through the door, he turned. “You are safer with me."

Chapter 6

From the outside, the diner had looked like an oasis in the predawn night. Inside, the light failed to make the dingy area inviting. I blamed the mustard-colored tables. The only customer slept beside a cup of cold coffee. His head jerked up as the bells attached to the door handle jingled, but his eyes fluttered closed a moment later. The waitress and the cook chatted at the first table. They frowned as our small group trudged in, and, with obvious reluctance, stood and retreated to the open kitchen while we situated ourselves in a corner booth.

Bobby sat down first, and to my disappointment, Gil plopped down beside him, leaving me next to Nathanial. By the look on Bobby's face, he disliked the arrangement as much as I did. Nathanial insisted I take the inside seat.

What, does he think I'll run off?

Given my history, that wasn't a completely unfair assumption, but I still sulked as I slid across the seat.

The waitress handed out menus. “This all on one check?"

I glanced around the table. “Who has money?"

"I do,” Bobby and Nathanial said in unison.

Good, one of them could pick up my tab. “Same check. I'll have a double waffle, hash browns with onions, bacon, and two eggs scrambled with cheese. Oh, and a hot chocolate."

Nathanial reached over and took the menu from my hands. “No, you won't. She will have only the hot chocolate, and I would like a cup of hot tea. Thank you.” He smiled at the waitress.

She glanced from him to me. Then I watched, horrified, as she scratched my order off the ticket. The waitress looked at Gil, whose face was buried in the menu.

"Um, I'm not ready yet."

"I am,” Bobby said. “I'll have what she ordered, originally.” He pointed at me.

Gil looked up. “I'm still not ready.” She looked around the table, “What would be best?"

Nathanial ordered for her, and lucky Gil got more than just a drink.

After the waitress left, I rounded on him. “What, can't I eat food?"

"You could. Probably five or six whole bites before you had to purge it. Your digestive track has been altered. Pretend to drink your hot chocolate."

I slouched lower in the booth, my arms over my chest. “But I really like food. It's the best part about being here in this world."

Nathanial ignored me as the waitress returned with our drinks. I picked up the hot chocolate and cupped it in my hands. I'd been feeling progressively colder as time passed, and I hoped the hot chocolate would help, but it felt neutral, neither warm nor cold. Steam rose out of the mug, but heat didn't pass into my hands. Irritating. I tipped the mug up slowly, testing the liquid against my lips. I expected it to burn me, but it only felt wet. What kind of place served lukewarm hot chocolate? I took a sip anyway. It tasted weak, watery, the bittersweet flavor of chocolate only an aftertaste. I glared at the dark-cream colored liquid, but took another sip. My mug was half empty when I put it down. Nathanial glanced at it, then at me.