But my worried frown shifted to relief when a familiar, somewhat squat form paced through the busy lobby, heading for the big revolving door and the street. It was Edden, his arms swinging with purpose and his eyes fixed. He had on a visitor ID, and I waved for his attention.

“Edden!” I shouted, and he spun, his few wrinkles easing into a welcoming smile as he seamlessly shifted direction. Jenks rose up from the table on a column of cheerful gold dust.

“Rachel,” Edden said as he wove through the increasing chaos. “What are you doing in the white box?”

“Being harassed,” I said, so pleased to see him that I gave him a quick, professional hug. He smelled like bitter coffee and popcorn, and I wondered if he was trying to lose weight. Not that he needed to. Ex-military looked good on him. “How did you get a visitor badge?”

“City business,” he said smugly. “The FIB was invited in to meet Constance, and I was the only one with the balls to show. I, ah, got lost on the way to the auditorium.” Eyebrows high in worry, he leaned in. “Got a call from a really big, really upset elf about Zack,” he added softly as he took my arm and pulled me from the box. “Okay, you’ve had your fun,” he said loudly when the two vamps at the table took notice.

“You have no authority here—Captain,” the one said, and Edden beamed, unafraid but keeping his distance.

“Hey, we’re on the same team, right?” he said, shifting his shoulder to show his building badge. “Making the world a safer place? They want Rachel downstairs. I’ll escort her.”

“She stays here,” the same vamp said, and my expression emptied when the other reached for Edden’s visitor badge. Edden rocked back, and Jenks touched his hilt, his dust shifting to an angry red.

“What’s your name?” Eyes narrowed, Edden pushed foolishly into the vamp’s space. “You want to be working the street rescuing familiars for the next three years? Back off. I’m the FIB’s delegation here to meet Constance.” He hesitated, mustache twitching when both vamps went ashen. “You, ah, want to tell me where she is?” Edden added. His bluster hadn’t shaken them; it was Constance. I thought the distinction important.

Who is this woman? I thought as I exchanged a look with Jenks. She had their gonads in a rattle, and she’d only been here a day.

“Ah, the white box,” one said doggedly. “Both of you,” he added, the scent of stressed vampire rising thick and cloying. “Martin, call downstairs,” he whispered. “Now!”

“Edden . . .” I muttered uneasily. Heads were rising all over the lobby as the smell of his fear thickened, setting them all on edge. I suddenly realized not getting in to find Zack was the least of my worries. I’d be the one blamed if the front security couldn’t hold it together and something bad happened. Constance was creating havoc with her own people.

“They’re better than this,” I muttered, stepping to get between Edden and the I.S. security as more faces turned our way, pulled by the scent of fear like flowers to the sun.

But one, I realized, was grinning at me in deviltry, stumbling as he was dragged across the lobby. It was a Were, scruffy and bedraggled, his jeans torn and his sneakers mismatched. His arm was in the grip of a uniformed vamp, and for him to be coming in the front door, he would’ve had to be tagged with a very minor offense. I didn’t know him. His pack affiliation tattoo was new to me, and I paused as something passed between us.

“What’s his deal?” Jenks said, hands on his hips as the Were actually winked at me.

“Jus-s-s-stice!” the Were suddenly shouted, jerking from the vamp’s grip. “Hands off, you bloodsucking termite!”

His shrill cry turned everyone to him, the room taking a collective breath as he made a break for the doors. Someone snagged him, and he howled, fighting as he went down. “I.S. brutality!” he shouted as three more fell on him in a weird, unsettling display of overreacting. “Help! Help! He’s breaking my arm!”

But the more he fought, the more vampires came until there was a ring of them watching, hoping he’d get free so they could bring him down again. It was like cats around a mouse, and seeing it happen in the I.S. lobby sent a chill through me. These were all professionals. They shouldn’t have lost it like this. Something was very wrong downstairs.

“Let’s go!” Edden pulled me forward and I stumbled, doing a double take as I realized the two security vamps dealing with me were gone. “Why didn’t you come in the back door?” Edden grumped as he pushed all my stuff into my bag and shoved it at me.

“Because I found a parking spot right out front.” I looked back as Edden tugged me to the elevators. The Were had been dragged to his feet and, seeing me, he gave me a thumbs-up before howling and trying to make a break for it again.

“Tink’s little pink dildo,” Jenks said, clearly impressed. “He’s tougher than Matalina’s June bug soup.”

“Who was that?” Edden said as he drew me into the elevator, and I shook my head.

“No idea.” The door shut. The last thing I saw was the Were, his face bloodied and his hands cuffed, kneeling before three shouting vamps. He was grinning despite the coming bruises, as if it had been an honor to have been beaten up for me. I wasn’t sure I wanted, much less deserved, that kind of help.

“Sorry for not taking your call, Jenks,” I said as we descended. There was a brief snap of connection to the ley lines as we went beyond the lobby’s seal, and then it was gone again when we went below the fourth floor. We were too deep to reach a line, and I felt a headache start.

“Don’t worry about it,” the pixy said as he sat cross-legged on Edden’s shoulder and ate a wad of pollen. “I didn’t know where Zack was until twenty minutes ago.”

“Is he okay?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“He’s stashed in one of the lower offices.” Jenks licked his fingers clean. “Strapped so he can’t tap a ley line and more pissed than a troll on her wedding night.” Grinning, Jenks rose into the air, his energy replenished.

“Thank God he’s too young to appeal to the old undead,” I said, but the worry line in Edden’s forehead didn’t ease. Constance might bite him anyway. An angry anything was of interest to the undead. “I should have been expecting this.”

“You think?” The doors opened, and Edden put up a hand and went first. “Constance is trying to take control of Cincinnati and the Hollows, something that should be hers without saying.” After looking up and down the empty hall, he beckoned me forward. “Half the city is happily oblivious, half is trying to adjust, and half is digging their heels in and snapping.”

“That’s three halves,” Jenks said, and Edden gestured for him to take point.