Not so Josephine. “I made you a vow.”

“Lemme get dressed.” She hopped from the bed, giving him a mind-scrambling view of her taut ass, and hurried to the bath.

He reached for his jeans, regretting he hadn’t said, “After another round.” He’d just strapped on his bow and quiver when she returned, fastening her necklace.

She’d stolen one of his shirts to wear over her dress, tying the ends and rolling the sleeves up. Her hair was pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. Even like this, she couldn’t look more fetching.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

He took her hand. “Of course.”

She stared at their clasped hands for several moments.

“Josephine?”

“Uh, yeah, can you trace me back to the Quarter?”

It’d be full dark there, roughly midnight. “I will.” An instant later, they were standing on a side street off Bourbon.

She regarded the area, then turned back to him. “So. We’re here.”

“So we are. Run along, little dove, back to your roost.”

She hesitated to release his hand, gazing up at him. The flickering light from a gas lamp reflected in her eyes. “This is it, then? You go from thinking about killing me to freeing me?”

“I believed you were a security risk. I no longer do.”

“Got it.” She opened her mouth to say something, closed it, then tried again: “I know you’re the hit-it-and-quit-it king, but for what it’s worth, I would’ve liked to see you again.”

Oh, you will. And shortly. He could follow that tracking rune anywhere. He was merely using her to locate Nïx.

Though Rune would have the vampire back soon, he was still reluctant to let her go. They might be on opposite sides of an immortal war, but he wasn’t finished with this female. He’d use his silver tongue to persuade her back into his bed—even after he killed her ally. He forced himself to let go of her hand. “Perhaps we’ll cross paths.”

He thought he spied a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Sure. Cross paths. No big deal.” She started down the street.

Once she’d turned the corner, he drew another rune combination on his forearm, a concealment spell to cloak his scent and render him invisible.

He traced to the rooftops to pursue her, traveling from one building to the next. At first she strode through the neighborhood. Then she paused, seeming to catch a scent. She took off in a sprint, scanning each street she passed.

No doubt she was frantic to find Nïx and divulge everything she’d learned about Rune. He felt an unexpected sting over that, but reminded himself all was fair in love and war.

Wait—wasn’t that the Valkyrie’s scent? Yes, there Nïx was, silently trailing Josephine, with that bat on her shoulder.

Eyes locked on his enemy, he fingered the flights of his arrows, selecting one-and-done.

Rune nocked it and drew his bowstring, fingers to his chin. Had there ever been an easier shot?

Yet his fey curiosity stayed him. Perhaps he should eavesdrop on their conversation, to uncover how much Nïx knew of the Møriør’s plans. Secrets there for the taking. He could always kill the Valkyrie directly after.

Follow Orion’s orders to the letter and make the shot? Or listen in?

Old habits . . . He returned the arrow to his quiver, then dropped to the ground to spy.

TWENTY-FIVE

After leaving Rune, Jo had picked up Thad’s scent, but it was always just out of her reach.

Was he in a departing car? A trolley heading away from the Quarter? No, the opposite direction!

She sprinted toward the Mississippi, following his trail to a riverside industrial lot. Stacks of rail containers bordered a worn-out patch of cement. She traced past the perimeter fence into the middle and scanned the shadows. Where was he?

She’d lost the thread altogether. “Damn it!” Somehow she would find him.

If possible, she was even more determined to reach Thad, to make sure he was safe. Rune’s memory of being separated from his beloved “dam” had devastated Jo. And then to learn of her death, to feel his grief . . . she’d woken in a panic to find her own beloved brother.

Alongside her worry for Thad, she hurt for Rune, the involuntary killer who’d only wanted to save his mother.

What won’t we do for the people we love?

She hoped Rune had gotten revenge on that vicious queen for his mother’s murder—if not for more. Magh’s mention of Rune’s “new occupation” had given Jo chills. . . .

“Oh, Shady Lady.”

Jo spun around to find that black-haired woman standing behind her. Nïx. Jo had never heard her approach.

So this was Rune’s target. “What do you want?” Jo peered past her. “Where is Thad?”

“I have our handsome lad tucked away.” Nïx was carrying that bat again. Tonight she had two boots on. Her eerie golden eyes glowed even more brightly than before.

Her T-shirt had writing on it, but Jo couldn’t decipher the words. “Tucked away where?” If need be, she could take this . . . Valkyrie.

A breeze flowed off the water, ruffling Nïx’s wild black hair. “He’s safe. Well, safe-ish. Perhaps, Josephine, if you cooperate, I will allow you to see him.”

“Allow?” This bitch had no idea. Jo didn’t cooperate; she squeezed till things broke. She Hulk-smashed. If Nïx didn’t take her to Thad, the Valkyrie would learn a lesson she’d never forget. “How do you know my name?”