“Your aura wavered, but it’s back. Did it work?” Jenks asked, and then we all jumped when a mourning dove hit the ground, sliding three feet to a halt in the scrubby weeds.

“I’d say that’s a yes.” David yawned again, then lifted his lapel to breathe deep from the faded lilac. “I’m glad you’re a good witch. That could be fatal in the wrong situation.”

“Don’t I know it,” I muttered. It fit the parameters for a white curse—but only until it killed someone and the I.S. in all their selfish zeal labeled it black. Which was kind of why we had to wait until sunup to use it. No way would I knock everyone in Piscary’s out before sunrise and risk trapping an undead aboveground.

“Sweeter than pixy piss,” Jenks said as he darted back from the bird. It worked. Now all we had to do was get it into the air system, rescue Nash and Zack, and get out before it wore off.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said as I rechecked the cap and extended it. Jenks came close, his wings humming as he took the vial in both arms. It was almost as tall as him, and I watched, worried, when he flew a sagging beeline back to the tavern. Like most vamp air systems, it would work from the lowest level up, pacifying everyone without them ever knowing it. We could be in, out, and no one the wiser.

“Talk about a light footprint,” David said. “How long until we can go in?”

I glanced at the downed bird, then turned to shove everything back in my bag. “Jenks has the cameras on loop. We can go now.” The distant tinkling of a bottle pulled my attention up to three scavengers. “Yours?” I said, and David nodded, his head down over his phone.

“Yep. They’ll keep our exit open,” he said, reminding me of Trent in the way he coolly handled old business while making new.

“Good. The fewer people involved, the better.” Satisfied, I gave my bag a shake to settle everything, and together we headed to the tavern, my vamp-made boots silent beside David’s soft scuff. The place seemed deserted with only one rental car out front, but the finder amulet and Jenks’s intel said otherwise. Behind us, the dove woke up, flying away with a soft wheeze.

“How about them?” I said, hands in the pockets of my green leather jacket as I gave a chin lift to the two middle-aged living vamps washing the night’s ash from the boat tied up across the river. They’d made a point to notice us when we had arrived, and I’d been watching them watch us for almost ten minutes while Jenks had done his aboveground recon.

David squinted across the river as he put his phone away. “Not mine. I don’t think they belong to Constance, though.” His eyes half closed, and he took a slow breath. “They don’t smell scared, and all her people do.”

The man could smell fear from across the Ohio River, I thought, impressed. He met my step, stride for stride, and as I glanced sidelong at him, my thoughts went to Trent. I liked kicking ass in a team, but doing this with David was easier than with Trent. The answer as to why was obvious. I loved Trent. I would fight to my last breath to save David, but Trent? I would fall apart and do angry, unforgiving, vengeful things if anyone did lasting hurt to him. Not having that risk sandwiched between my worry and reason made things a lot easier.

Which could make things really difficult, I thought, as I looked at the ring he’d given me. All it would take would be someone hurting Trent for me to do something really stupid.

“You okay?” David’s smooth voice folded into the morning like fog over water.

“Thanks for doing this with me,” I said, not answering him, and he grinned.

“Wouldn’t miss it.” His smile rose to encompass his eyes. “The hard part was convincing the rest of the pack to hold off. They’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“Which is why they aren’t here,” I said, not comfortable with people I hardly knew risking so much for me.

But David was clearly in a good mood, grinning at my slowly dissolving enthusiasm. The closer we got to the old tavern with its no-downstairs-windows theme and weather-beaten façade, the less I liked it. We had to get Zack and Nash without leaving any evidence of having been there. If we were caught, Constance would be within her legal rights to bring charges, even if she’d been illegally detaining Zack. It was home invasion, pure and simple, and the more well-known I became, the more scrutiny I was under, and the more finicky the I.S. was about me breaking the law. David might get a night in jail and probation, but I’d be dropped into a high-security prison, wrapped in so much red tape that even Ivy couldn’t get me out.

“Jenks,” David said softly, and my wandering, worried thoughts focused.

We were almost to the front door, and I swung my hair from my shoulders to give him a place to land. “Good to go?” I asked, more nervous, not less.

“Good,” he echoed. “I did another aboveground sweep. There’s only the one guy.” He fingered the finding amulet around his neck, still glowing a faint red. “They must be downstairs.”

Boots scuffing, we went up the wide, shallow steps to the large porch where vamps had once relaxed and flirted while waiting for a table. Boxes and furniture were stacked almost to the roof, left as if the people had simply vanished. “You think it’s a trap?”

David fingered his rifle. “Any time you’re entering a vampire’s home, it’s a trap.” He paused. “Front door, eh?” he said, squinting in worry.

“You want to shimmy up to the roof and come in through the second story?” I asked.

“I’m telling you, it’s one guy upstairs, and he’s in a drunk stupor,” Jenks insisted. “The cameras are tripped. You’re a ghost, Rache.”

But that was kind of what I was afraid of. Pulse fast, I took Ivy’s spare key from my pocket. My chin lifted at the faint scent of lily as I fitted it into the lock, but the door was open, and I hesitated, my misgivings thickening. This was too easy. We were being played.

Breath held, I nudged the thick oak door open.

The scent of lily rolled out, nauseatingly strong. Under it was the tang of frightened vampire. I froze, unable to step forward, my neck tingling in memory.

“I’ll check it out,” David said as he edged past me in a hush of sliding leather.

Jenks followed, his dust a weird orange.

I should have moved, but every instinct said go. Turn around. Flee. My shadow lay long across the oak floor, scuffed and dirty from people moving things in and out. The bar looked about the same as it had for the last sixty years, with dark mirrors, darker bottles, and a light rectangle on the wall where the MPL license had hung. The large, open living room that had once held booths and tables was messy with unfamiliar move-in clutter, couches and chairs mashed up into an unusable pile before the seldom-lit fireplace. Open boxes covered the floor and the huge coffee table. It was as if everyone had been called away in midtask, and the feeling of impending disaster strengthened.