Author: Kalayna Price

We walked in grim silence.

"Here,” Nathanial said, jerking open the door to the first bar the man had named. The door rattled, a hinge snapping.

I grimaced, but Nathanial stormed into the building without checking the damage. Luckily the country-western music blaring inside the bar hid the sound from the patrons.

Three women sat in front of a scarred bar, brightly colored drinks in their hands. They watched a cluster of men surrounding a faded and patched pool table. I studied each man's face, but none matched either my nor Candice's memory of the rogue. No other patrons. No scent of a city-shifter.

One down, two to hope on.

We walked back out, the door creaking behind us. It hung crooked off the frame and didn't shut. Nathanial turned without a word and headed for the next location.

Bobby checked every alley we passed. I caught up with Nathanial. “I don't know you that well, but you've been the epitome of patience in the past nights. In the last couple hours you changed."

"It is easy to be patient when you are immortal, but tonight I feel death reaching for me.” His fingers trailed through my hair. I jerked back, and he dropped his hand without changing his pace. “Also, you are not patient, and I have your memories running around my head."

"As well as everyone else's you have ever fed from."

Nathanial shook his head. “It is not the same. A human can be drained of blood in a matter of minutes. That is not enough time to absorb a lifetime of thoughts and memories. It took over three hours to turn you. I relived your memories with you dozens of times. In a way, I know you almost as well as I know myself. What are we but a collection of our experiences? Add in that I can feel a hint of your emotions through the blood bond we share, and sometimes when things happen I react more like you would."

"That's really scary."

"Yes, it is."

Silence pressed down on us again. I hadn't known he could feel my emotions. The knowledge hit a whole new level of privacy invasion, but I'd have to worry about the fact he held my emotional barometer later. We reached the second bar.

Another bust.

Only one left. I could really use some lucky stars. I looked up. I was more likely to get snowflakes.

Nathanial's pace picked up. I was already taking three steps for every one of his. I would be jogging soon at this rate.

"You have changed too,” he said, glancing over his shoulder and fixing me with grey eyes. “Ever since Candice's memory. I feel your guilt, but you are also more determined."

Heat flooded my face, but I forced myself to hold his eyes. “Stay out of my head."

He stopped, and Bobby nearly slammed into his back before Nathanial stepped out of his way. “Is the rogue one of the men who attacked you? One you used your claws on?” Nathanial asked.

I tripped over my feet. He knew.

"What is he talking about?” Bobby asked.

I opened my mouth, but no words emerged from my constricted throat. No confession.

"Attackers?” Bobby watched me, seeing more than I wanted him to see in my expression. “If you defended yourself and your claws came out ... But you didn't shift?"

I shook my head without looking up.

Bobby was silent for a long moment. “You're sure you tagged the rogue?"

I nodded, one sharp jerk of my head. Unless another person with the exact same tattoo just happened to get tagged—doubtful—the rogue was my mistake. My problem. I had to stop walking. I couldn't see past the tears swimming in my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt Bobby's gaze on me, but I knew tears would spill out if I opened my eyes. I didn't want to see his reaction anyway—I was too afraid I'd see disgust written on his face.

A large hand landed on my shoulder, and I jumped.

"I'll be your second,” Bobby whispered. “You defended yourself. End of story."

I shrugged him off. “You can't be my second. Do you think a cry of self-defense would appease my father, or the elders? I created...” I couldn't say it. I was Dyre, and I'd broken one of our most sacred laws. Sure, tagging the rogue had been an accident, but my accident had killed humans. Like I hadn't been enough of an embarrassment to my father before. “I'm declaring myself clanless. I'll not lay this shame at the Nekai clan's feet."

Bobby hissed. “I didn't hear that. I'm your second."

"No."

"I—” Nathanial started but Bobby cut him off with a growled warning.

"I'm your second,” he stated again. “And when we get back to Firth, we will face the elders together."

I shook my head, but the motion was lost in the general trembling of my body. I wasn't going back to Firth. I wasn't a shifter. I wasn't clan. Not anymore. Even if I lived through the night.

I marched up the sidewalk. “Aren't you leading the way?” I asked as I passed Nathanial.

He glided into motion again. “You knew there was a possibility your claws tagged the rogue. Why does knowing it is true change anything?"

Because before I could lie to myself. But now I knew. It wasn't the clanless. It wasn't some random stray. It was me.

"Because, judge or no judge, the rogue is my responsibility, and I have to kill him."

Chapter 21

"This is it,” Nathanial said, reaching for the bar door.

I grabbed his hand, stalling him. He lifted an eyebrow. I ignored him.

This was the last bar on the list. If this one fell through, we were back to nothing. I needed to hold onto hope one more second. Steeling my will, I pulled open the door.

Jazz music floated softly in the dim bar. A woman sat at a high table, absorbed in the glow of her laptop. Two men sat several stools apart at the bar, each accompanied only by their tumblers. A couple cuddled in a back booth. The bartender watched a silent television screen. No one else. No rogue.

I crumpled against the wall, all my energy draining into the uneven floor boards. This was it, then. My throat burned. Now what?

I pushed off the wall and sucked down a deep breath. Under the smell of stale cigarettes and old beer was a faint scent.

"He's been here."

Bobby, who'd been half out the door already, whirled around. “You're sure?"

I nodded. My nose wasn't good for much but this scent was seared in my brain. The rogue had definitely been here.

Nathanial stepped around me and strolled up to the bar. When the bartender didn't look away from his sports game, Nathanial rapped on the dull wood with his knuckles. That got the bartender's attention, but judging by the way his lips twisted, not his favor. The middle-aged man took his time, grabbing a grey towel as he walked over.

"What can I get you?” He picked up a pint glass, wiping it as he spoke. The towel left greasy smears on the glass.

"Information,” Nathanial said flashing a dazzling smile. “We are looking for a man in his late twenties, with buzzed blond hair and a long goatee. He was probably here earlier tonight. Have you seen him?"

No probably about it. He'd been here. I held my tongue. The bartender's eyes slid over us. I showed some teeth.

His gaze floated back to Nathanial, and he shrugged. “Lots of people come and go here."

I seriously doubted that. Bobby grunted under his breath, clearly in agreement about the mostly empty bar. Nathanial pushed several bills across the counter. The bartender glanced at them, and then made the bills disappear in a practiced motion as he wiped the bar with his dingy cloth.

"Yeah, maybe I remember seeing a guy who looked like that. He came in around eight. Stayed an hour or two. Paid cash."

Finally. A real lead. I leaned across the bar. “Did he leave with anyone? A woman he met here, most likely?"

The bartender pursed his lips and wiped another pint glass. “You a jealous ex or something?"

"No. Nothing like...” Crap. Why had I opened my mouth in the first place? I looked at Nathanial.

He laid another bill on the table. The bartender made it disappear.

"Yeah, he picked up a girl. Not like she came here to meet him or anything. She's a regular. Nice girl. Good tipper."

"She have a name?” Bobby asked.

"Yeah, she's got one.” But the bartender didn't give it to us.

"Is she local?” I asked.

The bartender snorted. “You don't come to a hell hole like the south end of Haven unless you're local."

"How much for the name?” Nathanial asked, pulling out his wallet.

Three-hundred dollars later, we had a name: Katie Jones.

Once outside the bar, I looked from Bobby to Nathanial. “Either of you have a cell phone, preferably one with internet?"

I didn't have a lot of hope Bobby would, unless they were handing phones to hunters as soon as they stepped through the gate, so it wasn't a big surprise when he shook his head. I was sort of expecting Nathanial to have a phone, so his frown caught me off guard.

"I am over four hundred years old and this is the first occasion I recall needing one.” He adjusted his glasses, and started up the street. “We will have to do this the old fashion way."

We stopped at a diner for a phonebook. There was no guarantee the bartender had given us the real name of the girl the rogue picked up, but I could only hope he had. There were five K. Jones listed for the southside tenement area. Any one of them could be her. According to Nathanial, two listings were within easy walking distance of the bar. Those seemed the most likely choices.

"We should fly,” Nathanial said, reaching for me.

I stepped away from him. “What about Bobby?"

Nathanial frowned.

Bobby crossed his arms over his chest. “You're not leaving me behind. You'll need my help with the rogue."

Nathanial had to look up to meet Bobby's eyes, and his frown carved a deeper ravine across his face. “I can't carry both of you."

"Then we better start walking.” I set a brisk pace down the sidewalk, Bobby at my side. Nathanial caught up quickly then took the lead.