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She glanced at me. “You say that like it’s two strikes.”

I shrugged. She wasn’t wrong.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, set to silent. I pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number.

I’ve been watching the memorial on the news. Very touching. Your week is up. You should come and visit. Bring my daughter. 7pm.

“Did you give my number to your dad?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Figures.”

I started walking, knowing she’d follow.

She did.

*

We drove into the hills over New Providence in silence. Kara kept glancing over—more often the higher we climbed.

I’d swapped the chinos and blue shirt from last time for black jeans and a hoodie. Partly limited wardrobe, partly because it didn’t matter what I wore. Kara had come out in a nice dress, seen what I was wearing, swiveled on her heel, and disappeared for twenty minutes.

We were now late, but I had to admit the wait had been worth it.

Now she was in dark-wash jeans, a fitted black blazer over a blood-red silk camisole, and ankle boots with a sharp heel. Effortlessly cool, just elevated enough to irritate her parents. Half a show of solidarity, half a subtle fuck-you with plausible deniability.

She gave me another look, full of concern and lingering long enough that I had to resist reaching for the grab handle.

“It’ll be all right,” I said, weakening and giving her the comfort I knew she sought. “I’ve done what he wanted, and I’ve got the voice recorder as proof.”

“That’s not what bothers me.”

“Is it my table manners? Knowing which fork to use?”

She ignored that, as it deserved. “It’s what he asks for next.”

“Yes, well, he did promise me something more challenging after this.” I paused. “But I never mentioned that.”

“No, but I know my father.”

“At least it keeps me employed. Shame the pay’s so shit.”

“I know when you’re hurting,” she said softly. “Your sarcasm ramps up from often to near-constant.”

I shifted in my seat, feeling called out. “I don’t like getting offered jobs by a powerful demon under threat of death for non-acceptance.”

“And it’s my fault.”

There was no answer to that, and I watched the trees speeding by in the night.

“I was going to say I’m sorry,” Kara continued, “but I keep apologizing, and things don’t get any better.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re probably just out of practice after four decades of not needing to ever bother.”

She winced, then blinked several times. “I’m scared.”

I glanced at her in surprise. “ You’re scared?”

A hand left the steering wheel to wave dismissively. “Not for me. They won’t hurt me. I’m scared what he’ll do to you, because of me.”

“Not sure why that would bother you. You didn’t choose this, remember? I’m an asshole, remember?”

“You’ve still got good bone structure.”

I gave a humorless laugh. “I think your whole family is way too fixated on the internal parts of my body.”

“And nice eyes. Strong arms. Good skin.”

“Which your mother can hardly wait to flay off.” I sniffed. “I should probably moisturize more. Make it easier for her.”

We drove another mile before Kara spoke again. “I’m not very good at this. You’re right, I’m out of practice. But … why do you keep pushing me away?”

“Well, gee, I can’t possibly imagine.”

She thumped the wheel, the sound sudden and sharp. “Could you go the next two minutes without being sarcastic?”

“Fine. You want it straight? I don’t like you.

You’re arrogant, entitled, borderline unstable and not a little crazy.

I sure as hell don’t like your parents, and presumably I don’t need to explain why.

I don’t like being bonded to you, and I’ve got no fucking idea what that bond even means.

Half the time you’re pulling against it, the other half it’s like you can’t even breathe without my permission.

How can I even tell what’s you and what’s the bond? ”

Another mile went by in silence, and I began to feel guilty, like maybe I’d laid it on too thick. Everything I said was true, but I could’ve said more. Some of the good stuff, for example. But my nerves were on edge, not just for the upcoming meeting with her dad, but the whole of the past week.

She broke the silence first. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“You said you don’t like me. I don’t believe you.”

I laughed. “See? Entitled.”

“Why did you cook for me then?”

“Because I was hungry,” I said coldly, knowing it wasn’t the truth.

“Takeout fixes that.”

I stared at her in irritation, largely because she was right. “So what? You don’t want me here anymore than I want to be here.”

She smiled. “You usually pull away. Going on the offensive must mean I got close.”

I glowered out of the window, my mood worse now than before we’d left.

I’d lost this round, and we both knew it.

She slowed as we swung in through the gates to her parent’s estate, taking the driveway at a sedate pace, almost like she wanted to prolong arriving. I surreptitiously wiped my palms on my jeans as she circled the fountain and pulled up before the steps.

“Whatever happens, I’ve got your back. I won’t leave your side.”

That was strangely comforting. Touching, almost.

Every time I thought I’d figured her out, Kara would go and throw a curveball. But it didn’t help; her mercurial behavior just emphasized that half of her was her , the other half the bond. At war, within.

It made it impossible to know the real Kara, and that was half the problem. More than half.

The large ebony doors opened as we walked up the steps, Harrington waiting to greet us.

“Good evening, sir, madam.” He focused on me. “Lord Dacien is waiting for you in his study, sir. I’m to take you straight there.” His gaze switched to Kara. “Lady Virelle is in the crimson room, madam.”

“I’ll go with my M—Xan,” Kara said firmly, blushing at her slip.

Harrington hesitated for precisely the correct interval. “Your mother asks that you attend her.”

“Tell her I’ll be along shortly.”

“It’s all right,” I said softly. “You go ahead. It’s probably better.”

Her jaw tightened, then she went up on her toes and kissed my cheek, murmuring quietly, “I will see you soon.”

I stared at her, resisting the temptation to touch where the press of her lips lingered. Then I set off down the hallway, not waiting for Harrington. He caught me up before I’d gone too far—which was lucky, as I wasn’t actually sure of the way.

He led me to Dacien’s study, knocked twice, and opened the door for me.

Dacien was sitting behind his desk, already halfway through a cigar, the blue smoke filling the air above with haze.

“Ah, there he is.” He didn’t bother to get up, just waved me to the chair I’d occupied for our last encounter. “Cognac?”

“No, thank you.” I sat, leaning one elbow on the armrest, a picture of relaxed indifference. I hoped. “I did what you asked. The journalist has abandoned the story.”

“I know, I know.” He smiled at my surprise. “I do have my own sources.”

“Good. Then we’re done,” I said firmly, not really believing that this meeting would be so fast.

He leaned back in his chair, continuing like I hadn’t spoken. “Busy week with SPAR. The fiasco at the university, the riots in the city, one of their patrols attacked. It’s high time we sought reform, don’t you agree?”

“I suppose so,” I said guardedly, a sliver of cold against my spine.

“The Bay Uni incident was a catalyst, but, for my purposes, it is delightfully well-timed.” He smiled at me, enigmatic. “Given your current state of … availability, I’m sure you’d want to be directly involved.”

“No, thank you.”

“I’m arranging for you to take on the role of an ethics consultant.” He paused to give me a sly smile. “I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

“You want me to apply ethics to SPAR and reform them?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my tone.

“Oh, God no. Could you imagine what SPAR would look like if you were even half successful? Perish the thought.” He gave a mock-shudder.

“No, this is what we call a ‘cover’.” He gave me a patronizing smile, then tapped the ash off his cigar.

“For the past few weeks, someone inside SPAR has had far too much information about some of my … more morally flexible logistics. Warehouse raids. Shipments confiscated. Things they shouldn’t know about, yet apparently do. ”

“Sounds like you have a leak.”

He took a sip of his brandy. “I haven’t yet ruled that out, but I don’t think it’s the case. My people are loyal … to the death.” He smiled thinly. “No, I think one of the other factions is seeking to undermine me, and they’re working with a contact inside SPAR.”

He seemed very confident. I wondered if it was justified. “That’s a big assumption. It sounds more like someone got careless.”

His eyes hardened. “SPAR responded too precisely, too quickly, and too many times for it merely to be carelessness. They’re being fed information.

” He leaned forward, poking his cigar toward me.

“I deal with too many factions at too many levels to keep such matters wholly secret, and I accept that. There has to be trust in my line of work.”

I raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re running drugs through New Providence and you trust people to keep secrets?”

“No, Xan, I’m running drugs through America , and I trust those I work with to understand the fear of retaliation. If they fuck with me, I kill them in painful ways. Up until this point, that approach has worked very well.”

I wished I’d said yes to the cognac now. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go into SPAR and stop their drug busts on your empire?”

“Fortunately for you, it’s only New Providence SPAR that is being fed information, suggesting the culprits are somewhere here, in the city. Find out who the contact is within SPAR, and I’ll extract the name of whatever faction has betrayed me.”

“As an ethics consultant ?”

“I think that’s what I said.”

“Right. Because nothing says ‘spy hunter’ more than a flower-wearing do-gooder with a certificate in pretending to care.”