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straight to voice mail. I tried Eddie next, then Gran. But I was unable to reach any of them. My panic increasing with each second, I searched for anyone else I recognized. I suddenly caught sight of yellow ringlets and bolted toward Trish Muffet, who was talking with one of the FMA Investigators, that new kid. . . . What was his name? McCain.
    â€œWhere’s Red?” I demanded without preamble.
    Trish gave me a quizzical look. “She’s not here? I just saw her a second ago talking to some guy.”
    â€œMaybe she went with one of the ambulances,” McCain suggested.
    The fist of panic squeezing my gut got a little tighter. “She wouldn’t have gone without letting me know. Who was she talking to?”
    Take the women.
    Shit. There were two more souls waiting for transfer. If I waited much longer, they’d be lost. But I shoved the directive away.
    â€œWhat did he look like, this guy?” I asked. “Was he human? Tale?”
    Trish and McCain exchanged a look before Trish said, “Neither. I mean . . . I honestly thought it was you, Nate. He was kind of shadowy, indistinct to me, like you are sometimes.”
    â€œWhere was she?” I grasped Trish’s upper arm tighter than I’d intended, making her wince.
    â€œEasy there, Detective,” McCain said, putting a restraining hand on my shoulder.
    I eased up a little on Trish’s arm and forced my voice to stay calm when I asked, “Where was she the last time you saw her?”
    Trish nodded toward the barricades that had been set up to keep onlookers from entering the crime scene. “There. She’d been talking with the Ordinary policemen when the guy came up to her and . . .” She gave me a wary look. “He put his arm around her waist. I’m sorry, Nate—I had a patient with a nearly amputated leg. I was too preoccupied to notice anything was off.”
    â€œWho was it?” McCain called after me as I bolted toward the spot where Tess had disappeared, but I didn’t respond. What the hell was I supposed to say? I couldn’t exactly explain my relationship to Demetrius. For all Trish and McCain knew, I was a Tale just like they were.
    As soon as I was standing where Tess had last stood, I closed my eyes, reining in my panic and forcing myself to focus on her. I could feel her somewhere nearby. Thank Christ. I could still sense her. She was alive. And she was close. But something was blocking my ability to dematerialize to her.
    Demetrius.
    If I’d had any doubts about who the man with Tess had been, this confirmed it. The son of a bitch was intentionally interfering with our connection, attaching himself to Tess to stay corporeal.
    That fucking bastard.
    I took off in the direction toward which I felt the strongest pull, shoving through the crowds. I knew I was running headlong into a trap. My gut would’ve told me so even if I didn’t already know it. I knew Demetrius and his games. He liked to toy with his prey. He always had. And he certainly had me by the short and curlies on this one. He knew my weakness. And he was using it against me, setting the stage for whatever bullshit punishment he had in mind for me.
    Well, he could have his moment. And then I was gonna have mine.

Chapter 7
    I didn’t have to go far. My connection to Tess led me to a parking lot behind a bail bonds business that was curiously blocked off by other buildings, leaving only one entrance and exit. The waning light cast eerie shadows, so much of the parking lot was obscured. Standing in the small circle of light cast by the lone street lamp was Tess. Her cheek was sporting a nasty bruise that was growing darker by the minute and her lip was swollen and bleeding. She was barefoot, I noticed, having lost her shoes—or perhaps having kicked them off to fight back.
    A brief surge of pride hit me when I imagined the bruises the other guy had to be sporting. But my pride and concern were