Almost.

“Hold on,” he muttered, pulling her back and sinking his fangs into her throat. Blood spilled over his tongue and he could feel the other Malchai’s nerves, feel his hunger, too, and just for that, he took his time, drinking every drop.

When he was done, Sloan let the body slide to the floor and drew a fresh black square from his pocket. He wiped his mouth and started into the main room, hooking one finger for the Malchai to follow. “You’ve intruded on my hospitality and interrupted my meal. This better be worth it.”

The engineers’ eyes were trained on their work, as if they hadn’t heard the girl’s screams. But the color was high in the woman’s face, while the man had gone pale. Alice meanwhile was sitting on the counter, skimming a chemistry book.

“Forgive me,” said the Malchai. “I thought you would want to know”—he glanced at Alice—“in private.”

Alice waved her fingers. “Oh, don’t worry,” she said cheerfully. “Sloan and I are family.”

Sloan’s teeth clicked together. “Yes. Go on.”

The Malchai bowed his head. “More Fangs are dead.”

Sloan shot Alice a look. “This is the third time in two nights.”

Alice shrugged. “Wasn’t me.”

“I was there,” said the Malchai. “There was a monster. Wasn’t Corsai. Wasn’t one of us either.”

Sloan frowned. “A Sunai? On our side of the city?”

Alice glanced up, curiosity piqued, but the Malchai was already shaking his head. “No. Something else.”

“Something else,” echoed Sloan. “And how did it kill them?”

The Malchai’s eyes burned with a frantic light. “That’s the thing, it didn’t kill them. The Fangs took one look at it and just started killing each other.”

Alice snorted. “Sounds like humans being humans.”

Sloan held up a hand. “And what did you do?”

“I tried to stop the Fangs, and one actually went for me.” He sounded indignant. “I killed that one, but the rest killed each other, I swear.”

“And the something else?”

“It just watched.”

Sloan unfastened his cuffs, and began to roll up his sleeves. “Where did this happen?”

“That old warehouse on Tenth.”

“And who else was there?”

“Only me,” said the Malchai, gesturing to his stained self.

Sloan nodded thoughtfully. “I appreciate your discretion. Thank you for coming to me.”

The Malchai’s eyes brightened. “You’re welcome, s—”

He never finished: Sloan tore out his heart.

He had to reach through the Malchai’s stomach to get it, up around the bone plating on his chest, and by the time he pulled the offending organ free, his arm was slick with gore.

Sloan grimaced at the rot of death, the black blood dripping to the floor.

Alice rolled her eyes. “And you say I’m the messy one.”

Sloan unbuttoned the soiled shirt as a sound came from the table.

The female engineer had her hands over her mouth.

“Something to say?” asked Sloan lightly. “Have you found an answer to my problem yet?”

The woman shook her head.

The man’s voice was barely a whisper. “Not yet.”

Sloan sighed, turning to Alice. “Keep an eye on these two,” he said, shrugging out of the ruined shirt. He dropped it onto the body. “And clean this up.”

The Malchai’s corpse was already beginning to dissolve on the floor. Alice wrinkled her nose. “Where are you going?”

Sloan stepped over the mess and went to change his clothes.

“You heard our dear, departed friend,” he said. “We seem to have a pest problem.”

The hood went on again, and for several long minutes Kate’s world was plunged back into black. The door was opened, her cuffs freed from the table, and then she was hoisted up from her chair and onto unsteady feet.

She was shaking.

She hated that she was shaking.

This was why she’d started smoking.

A single strong hand—Soro’s, she could tell by the viselike grip—led her from the room, and down a hall. She could feel the knife holstered at Soro’s side.

“You know,” said Kate, “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

The Sunai scoffed.

“You don’t know me,” pressed Kate.

“I know who you are,” said Soro, “and I know what you are, and that is enough.”

“You monsters,” muttered Kate, “you think everything is black and white.” Her shoes skimmed a gap, the narrow line between floor and elevator. “Maybe it is, for you, but for the rest of us—”

The hood came off, and Kate blinked. Soro loomed before her, long as a shadow, their silver hair like metal in the artificial light.

The Sunai was blocking Kate’s view of the control panel. “Where are we going?”

Soro’s gaze was cold, their voice even. “Up.”

Her heart fluttered. She’d gotten through the interrogation, white-knuckled it, and for the most part managed to keep a grip on the words coming out of her mouth. She’d told the truth, if not all of it.