I shook my head. "It isn't hard. The hard part is knowing that if I'd done it sooner, T. J. might still be alive."

"Yeah."

"She called him. He picked her up at the airport. He took her—where? To their house?" Meg and Carl had a house west of town, against the foothills, with easy access to wilderness for running on full moon nights.

"They didn't get that far," Shaun said. Quickly he added, "I wasn't there. I heard about it later. I'd have tried to stop him if I'd been there. But I've been staying away from him. He's wrapped up in some of Arturo's shit right now, and I don't want to have anything to do with that."

"There were some other lycanthropes in town," I said. "Strangers. Carl sent the pack after them. He left Jenny with the rest of the bodies. He must have picked her up at the airport knowing he was going to kill her."

"You know him as well as I do. You tell me."

"You knew what he'd do, and you didn't even try to stop him."

"What did you expect me to do?" he shouted.

I didn't flinch, because his anger wasn't directed at me. Not that it mattered, because I was angry enough at myself. I'd been so close. She'd been so close. How could she have waited by the curb, how could she have gotten into his car, knowing him the way she must have known him? Knowing that he wouldn't not hurt her, at the very least? Knowing that he was capable of killing her.

I blamed it on the stupid security rules that meant I couldn't walk her to the airplane without buying a ticket myself. I should have known that it wasn't enough to see her walk through that metal detector. I shouldn't have breathed that sigh of relief until I'd gotten Alette's call that she'd arrived safely. Why was I so goddamned trusting! I could imagine what Carl had said to her: You need me, I can take care of you, you're just a pup, you're too weak to be on your own, let me come get you, I'll save you from yourself. He'd have worn her down until there was nothing left. No confidence, no purpose—no self.

And part of her loved him despite everything. Of course she'd call him. Of course she'd start to doubt, without someone telling her everything she had to gain by leaving him. I leaned against the soot-stained brick wall of the alley, wiped my eyes, and sniffed back tears. It didn't help. I felt battered and exhausted.

"At least you tried," Shaun said. "It's more than anyone else did." He glanced away—bearing his own part of the shame.

"You couldn't stand up to Carl any more than she could," I said. "T. J. was the only one."

"I liked T. J." He gave a little shrug and a sad smile. "Everybody liked T.J. He was the best of us. After he…you know. There didn't seem to be much point in standing up to Carl."

There had to be a way to do this with brains instead of brawn. I hadn't gotten this far on my less-than-brute strength.

I looked at Shaun—then tried to look into him. Looked at him like I could see everything: his mind, his soul, his fears. A wolfs stare. "If I need you. If I call on you—will you come? When I put together a plan, will you stand with me?"

His indecision was plain. He shuffled his feet, looked skyward, and winced, squinting into the streetlight. Didn't want to answer. Didn't look at me. I didn't want to push him—I was asking a lot of him: to break ranks, to possibly put his life on the line. But I didn't have time to wait.

"Shaun?" I spoke with an edge. I had to mean it. I had to sound like I knew what I was doing.

He took a deep breath, then he looked at me. "If it's a good plan," he said. "Yes."

I felt a little bit stronger.

"Thank you," I said. "I'll let you know when."

I walked away without looking back. Turning my back on him was a sign of trust, and a sign of power. Wolf's sign.

Now, about that plan…

As Ben and I drove to meet Rick, Hardin called back. I hadn't expected her to have anything so soon. She quickly dashed my hopes for progress.

"Cook checked out of the Brown Palace on Monday," she said. "By all accounts, she's left town."

On the one hand, I was relieved. She wouldn't be around to mess things up anymore. On the other hand, we couldn't learn anything more from her.

Hardin continued. "Funny thing, though. All her concerts for the week have been postponed."

"She could be anywhere, then."

"I've got someone going over the hotel's security tapes from the last week. Maybe we can track down a few of her associates. See if anything links her to the warehouse or this Master vampire of yours."

It seemed like little enough to go on, but I wasn't going to complain. "Thanks, Detective."

"Something I can't figure out," she said. I braced for a difficult question until I realized a laugh hid behind her voice. "Am I doing you a favor with all this or are you doing me one?"

"Maybe we'll just call this one a wash," I said. She clicked off.

Rick had picked what must have been the seediest dive available on East Colfax. When I told Ben the address, he'd done a double take.

"You are not going there," he said.

"How do you even know about this place?"

"If I told you how many assault cases come out of that bar, you'd faint."

"And how many of those have you defended?"

"Enough to know we have no business being there." Ben might have been a few steps up the moral and social ladder from Cormac, but that still left him a few steps down from normal. Many steps down from normal.

"Rick’ll look after us."

"Like he looked after the rest of his people?"

"You don't have to come if you feel that way."

"You're not going there alone."

His vehemence gave me a warm feeling, even in the midst of the argument. He likes me… We hadn't stopped the catty back-and-forth for days, it seemed like. We were learning each other's sore spots, and we were both the kind of people who would pry at those spots. I didn't know how to stop.

The place was in an old brick storefront, and it didn't have a sign. If you didn't know it was here, you didn't belong. That kind of place. I felt like I'd stepped into a gangster movie, and that didn't comfort me at all. Bars covered the windows. The entrance even had a set of bars on a storm door. A weedy lot next door served as a parking lot, which was full of a mix of old model beaters and shiny new pickups. A few Harleys occupied the sidewalk in front. No sign of Rick's BMW. But Rick was too smart to bring that car. Or maybe it had already been stolen.