Part of me wanted to add “and so is anybody else who wants to come.” The sensible part of me—the one that understood that this was about to become a war zone—stepped in, and didn’t let the words get out.

Ryan grinned, relief obvious. “I’ll go tell Istas. Thanks a lot, Very.”

“Don’t thank me until you’ve spent your first night trying to sleep through the mice,” I said—but I let him hug me when he stepped closer, and I hugged him back with equal fervor. There’s something to be said for keeping your friends around you when things get bad. It may not be good for their life expectancies, but it’s sure as hell easier on the heart.

My phone rang. I pulled away from Ryan, offering him one last smile, and dug the phone out of my pocket. The call was coming from a blocked number. “Hello?”

“Verity, it’s Sarah. You owe me. Do you understand how much you owe me? Does your tiny, fluff-filled little head have the capacity to comprehend the volume of ‘owe’ that you now bear on your skinny little shoulders?”

I laughed. “Artie found the address?”

“Artie found the address,” Sarah confirmed. “Artie then spent an hour grilling me about why I wanted to know. Do you have any idea how bad I am at lying to him?”

“You’re probably the only cuckoo in the world who can say ‘I’m a bad liar’ with a straight face, you know.” I sat down on top of an ammo box. “What did you tell him?”

“That you’d explain later. About twelve times. And then I told him that if he didn’t stop pushing, I was going to start crying, and then neither of us would get anything done. He’s really unhappy, Very.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. But you said he found the address?”

Sarah made a frustrated sound. “I’m texting it to you now. You were right—the credit card used for the rental is registered to an address downtown. It’s an apartment, though, about the size of yours. I don’t think Dominic’s going to be keeping the entire Covenant there.”

“No, but he may have left something that we can use to figure out where he’s gone.” I paused. “Speaking of which, don’t bother going by my apartment. We just finished moving my stuff out of there. I’m going to see if I can get the Internet working where I am now, and I have cell service.”

“Wait, ‘we’?” said Sarah, voice going suddenly suspicious. “Who’s with you?”

“Uncle Mike’s here from Chicago.” I had to hold the phone away from my ear to keep her delighted squeal from piercing my eardrum. “Sarah! Volume!”

“Sorry! Sorry sorry, but tell Uncle Mike I say hi, okay? I’d ask where you were, but you probably shouldn’t tell me over the phone, so I’ll just beg you to be at least a little bit careful, and try not to get killed.”

“I’ll do my best.” I briefly considered telling her to get out of the Port Hope, but decided against it. No one who wasn’t attuned to her would be able to remember where she was, and much as I hated to consider it, that included Dominic. She was safest if she didn’t move. “Stay inside tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” She sounded relieved.

That made two of us. We exchanged good-byes, and I hung up. The little yellow envelope that meant I had a text message appeared at the top of my screen two seconds later. I tapped it with my thumb, and it opened, displaying a midtown address. According to the clock, it was almost six. The sun would be setting soon. I straightened, slipping the phone into my pocket.

“Hey, Uncle Mike? I think I need to go out for a little while. Can you get things set up here?”

“Depends. Are you going to go do something stupid that your folks would want me to forbid you to do?”

“Nope. And it’s not like you can forbid me to do anything anyway.” I smiled winningly. “I’m just going to break into Dominic’s apartment and see if I can find anything to tell me where he’s keeping the Covenant while they’re in town.”

“Oh, is that all?” Mike waved a hand dismissively. “Pick up some eggs while you’re out. I’ll make omelets in the morning. Also, write down the address and leave it by the door. If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll go over to have a chat with your young man.” Any “chat” Uncle Mike described in those terms would probably involve a crowbar.

“Sure thing, Uncle Mike,” I said, and turned to head for the nearest stairway. If I was going to do this, I was going to do it my way, and that meant that step one was getting myself away from ground level.

The dragons had been living in the Meatpacking District for so long that their renovated slaughterhouse was surrounded on all sides by buildings whose tenants probably had no idea what was in that sealed-off courtyard. New York is an old enough city that it has more than its share of odd architectural quirks like that, little streets that lead to nowhere, little courtyards that technically aren’t accessible unless you know the secret steps to get you there. I stopped on the edge of the slaughterhouse roof, looking around me as I assessed my position.

This was my neighborhood now. I might never see the apartment I’d been illegally subletting again. The thought was oddly sobering. Even if I survived, my time in New York was almost up. The deal I’d made with my family was for a year. At the end of that, I was supposed to choose between cryptozoology and dancing. I had one month left in my original plan.

When this ended, I was either cutting ties with the cryptid community, or I was going home.

I tried not to think about that too hard as I backed up to the middle of the roof, got myself a running start, and leaped.

Some people will tell you that gravity is a cruel mistress. I think they’re missing the point. Gravity isn’t cruel. Gravity is exactly the same for everybody, Covenant, Price, or neutral party. Gravity doesn’t care. Once you give yourself over to the essential forces that govern the universe, your choices are plummet or learn how to control your fall. After years of effort, I had learned control.

The buildings around the old Nest were still mostly unfamiliar to me—I’d never been what you’d call a regular guest back when the dragons lived here, and I certainly hadn’t been swinging by on a regular basis since—but I’d been free running through New York long enough by that point to be at least a little comfortable traveling blind. I grabbed hold of a fire escape as I fell, letting my own momentum snap me to a stop and then send me swinging upward. Energy likes to be used, and so I used it, turning the half swing into a full swing that deposited me neatly on the next level of the fire escape. From there, it was just a matter of running along the building ledge until I could leap again, landing safely on the next roof.