I pushed aside the ache I got every time he touched me—the overwhelming urge to lean into his touch, rather than pull away from it—and made myself focus on his words. Because they made sense—up to a point. “Cam, I can’t avoid Anne. Even if she weren’t a friend, I’m working for her.” And unease was already crawling beneath my skin—the very beginnings of resistance pain—because I wasn’t actively pursuing her husband’s killer in that moment. “But she’s not going to ask me to go up against Jake Tower. She won’t do anything to put her daughter in danger, and going after Tower would do just that.”

“She’s in mourning, Liv. You can’t expect her to react rationally. And you’ll be bound to whatever suicidal, impulsive revenge she asks for.” He frowned, and I recognized the stubborn set of his jawline. “I can’t let you put yourself in that kind of danger.”

I stepped out of his reach, crossing both arms over my chest. “That’s not up to you.”

“I’m just trying to protect you, Liv.” He frowned up at me from the couch, elbows resting on his knees.

“I don’t need your protection. But I could use your help. And for the record, you’re not giving Anne enough credit—I think she’s holding things together pretty well. Besides, I owe her an update, and she deserves to hear the facts in person.”

Cam gave in with a heavy exhale and a single nod. “Six years has only made you more stubborn.”

But he was wrong about that. The past six years had also made me faster, meaner and less willing to believe in the inherent goodness of any species that could include Jake Tower and Ruben Cavazos among its numbers.

“I take it this little emergency meeting means you haven’t found him yet.” Anne’s hand shook as she spooned sugar into her coffee, and I wondered if she’d had any sleep at all in the twenty hours since her husband was murdered.

Cam and I had not.

“Not yet. But we know where he lives, we have most of his name, and we found a fresher sample of his blood.” And we had tested the pull of Hunter’s energy signature using both his blood and his name on the way to meet Anne. Both were very strong signals, leading deeper into the west side. Hunter was still alive, and he almost certainly knew someone was after him. Yet he hadn’t left the city.

The fact that he’d stayed made me nervous, and it was one of the biggest factors in our decision to update—and question—Anne before going after Hunter again.

Anne sipped from her mug and watched us from across the table, oblivious to the Friday-night dinner crowd just starting to filter in at the end of the nine-to-five shift. “So what’s the problem?”

I glanced at Cam to see if he wanted to take the lead—he was the one bound to Tower, after all—but he gestured for me to go ahead.

“Anne, was Shen involved with the Tower syndicate?” I whispered, leaning across the table to make sure we wouldn’t be overheard. “In any way at all?”

She choked on her coffee. “No,” Anne croaked, blotting her mouth with a paper napkin. “Absolutely not.”

“Are you sure?” Cam asked. “If he was, he might not have been allowed to tell you. Did you ever see him with anyone who had a chain link tattooed on his arm. Or her arm?”

Anne leaned closer, brows drawn low over eyes shining even greener than usual with exhaustion. “Living in the suburbs doesn’t make me an idiot. I know Tower’s insignia, and I would know if my husband were working for him. Or meeting with someone who worked for him.”

Cam gave her an awkward little grin, obviously trying to soften the coming blow. “You might not.” He slid his right hand beneath his left sleeve, as if he had an itch to scratch. “I’m a third-tier initiate.” He lifted the hem of his sleeve quickly and subtly, just long enough for her to get a peek at his marks, then let the material fall.

Anne set her coffee down carefully, deliberately, but she couldn’t hide the tension in her grip. “You work for Tower.” It wasn’t a question. It was a stunned statement of new facts, spoken to try to convince herself of the reality.

I knew exactly how she felt.

“He’s being modest,” I said, unable to keep the bitter edge out of my voice. “He’s actually Jake Tower’s top Tracker. Even got a step promotion last year. Isn’t that swell?”

Cam’s jaw tightened, but just because he didn’t like the truth didn’t make it not true.

Anne focused on him with an iron glare, and I realized she was about to make me proud. “I’m going to forgo the whole ‘what the hell were you thinking?’ speech in favor of something even more obvious,” she snapped in a harshisper. “You should have told me that up front. I never would have involved you in this if I’d known!”

“That’s why I didn’t tell you,” he said, with a meaningful glance at me. “I wanted to help.”

Anne took a deep breath and another sip from her mug. “So, what does this mean? Why are you asking about Shen in relation to Tower? You think someone killed him because they thought he was…one of you?” she asked, with a censuring glance at Cam.

“Not exactly…” he mumbled, and I exhaled slowly.

“Anne, someone in the Tower syndicate paid to have your husband killed.”

In the silence that followed, the ambient restaurant noise seemed to close in on us, amplifying Anne’s shock and denial, Cam’s obvious confliction, and my own kaleidoscope of anger, fear and dread.