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Not Jane. Simon crossed the sorting room and stopped at the Private doorway.

“They found the enemy,” he said. “I’m going to the Chestnut Street station to talk to Montgomery and the other police.”

“All right.” Suddenly cold, Meg hugged herself. “Will you tell me …”

Simon cocked his head. “Tell you what?”

“I don’t know.”

He waited a moment, then said, “I have to go.”

Gone.

She waited and watched until the patrol car pulled out of the delivery area and turned right on Main Street, heading toward the Chestnut Street station.

She held out her hands, studied her arms—and wondered if she should be relieved or alarmed that she didn’t feel even the faintest prickle anywhere.

Caught in an uneasy sleep, Jean grimaced, and a split on her lower lip reopened, turning dream into a prophecy that flowed like a movie clip.

The ground shook. The wind roared. The Walking Names shouted and pleaded and screamed. Walls were sprayed with blood, and limbs ripped from bodies littered the corridors.

The girls, locked in their cells, shivered and cried.

Then her door slammed open and she saw …

Jean opened her eyes—and she smiled.

Dominic Lorenzo looked haggard when he walked into the incident room at the Chestnut Street station. He studied Monty, Louis, and Burke before sagging into a chair. “Do you realize what we’ve stirred up? How many influential people have called to rattle the hospital administrators about my suitability to practice medicine?”

Burke sat down opposite Lorenzo and gave the man a fierce-friendly smile. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that, Doctor. Lakeside’s police commissioner has been dealing with similar calls about me and mine. I think the people complaining about you now will be singing a different tune very shortly.”

“Why?”

Burke’s smile became fiercer. “Benevolent ownership.”

“A necessary evil.”

“What about breeding farms? What about breeding girls with an eye to enhancing their ability to see prophecy? What about breeding them until the offspring are so sensitive they can’t survive without that benevolent ownership?”

Lorenzo stared at Burke. “That’s monstrous.”

Monty studied the doctor. “But it also confirms something you’ve begun to suspect, doesn’t it?”

Lorenzo opened his briefcase, pulled out a thick stack of papers, and didn’t reply for a minute. Finally, “The people who use these compounds and buy prophecies aren’t going to let that kind of information come to light. Breeding farms for those girls? None of those people would survive the firestorm of that kind of scandal.”

“Which is why I’m not planning to give the information to other humans,” Burke said. “I’m going to give it to the terra indigene.”

“Give what to the terra indigene?” Simon Wolfgard asked as he and Vlad Sanguinati walked into the room.

“We’ll get to that,” Burke said. “Lieutenant?”

“We’re reasonably sure we’ve found the city where the Controller’s estate and the compound are located,” Monty said, walking over to the map on one of the incident boards.

Can’t pass for human today, Monty thought, glancing at Simon and Vlad. Neither of them. There’s just too much predator showing through.

“What about you?” Simon said, looking at Lorenzo.

The doctor hesitated, then pulled out his own map and unfolded it. “I’ve talked to colleagues, acquaintances, and hospital administrators. I’ve marked the places where blood prophets have been given some medical care. I want to point out that most of the facilities who brought the girls in for treatment are known in their communities and are run openly.”

Simon and Vlad said nothing. They just looked at each map. Then Simon opened up another map and set it on the table next to Lorenzo’s.

“What have you marked?” Monty asked, noting the same towns that were marked on each map.

“Crows talk to the Crowgard,” Vlad said. “So they obliged when asked to look at human places. We made note of the places where humans shot them.”

“The towns where people shot the crows are the same towns we suspect of having compounds that hold cassandra sangue,” Monty said.

Simon nodded. “Your maps confirm the conclusions reached by the terra indigene in the Midwest.”

“Now what?” Burke asked.

“Now Lieutenant Montgomery, Dr. Lorenzo, and I will board the westbound train that leaves at two thirty this afternoon and meet up with the terra indigene who will settle things with the enemy.”

Lorenzo shot to his feet. “I’m not going anywhere!”

Simon and Vlad both smiled, showing their fangs.

“You’ll go because you’re a human bodywalker who is interested in blood prophets, and you’ll want to help the ones who survive,” Simon said.

“The ones who—”

“And the lieutenant will go because the police will want to talk to one of their own instead of the earth natives who will be present in that town,” Simon continued.

“And you?” Monty asked. “Why will you be going?”

“To keep a promise.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “No. It’s hard enough to have gathered this information, knowing what—”

“Have you heard about the other shipment of tainted meat?” Vlad asked. His voice was friendly; his eyes were dark ice. “Two delivery trucks full of the stuff. One had an odd accident and managed to tip over in such a way that the driver wasn’t hurt but the back door popped open. The driver got into the other vehicle and it drove off, leaving all that tempting meat just lying on the road. Funny thing about the Sanguinati. About all the terra indigene, but my people in particular. We recognize the blood prophets as not prey. The cassandra sangue are Namid’s creation, both wondrous and terrible. We don’t drink their blood. Other earth natives don’t eat their flesh. And we can recognize it even when it’s ground up and mixed with beef in an attempt to hide what it is.”

Louis groaned. Lorenzo sat down heavily. Monty braced his hands on the table, feeling sick. Burke stared at Simon and Vlad.

“Are you sure more girls were used to make that meat?” Burke asked.

“We’re sure,” Vlad said. He folded up the map Simon had brought and tucked it under his arm.

“Train leaves at two thirty,” Simon said. “If you want humans to have any say in what comes next, don’t be late.” He and Vlad walked out of the room.

Silence. Then Burke said, “Lieutenant? You and Dr. Lorenzo should go home and pack a bag. Doctor, Commander Gresh will drive you home and take you to the train station. Lieutenant, have Kowalski drive you. I’ll clean up here.” After a moment, he added quietly, “May Mikhos watch over all of us.”

Mikhos was the guardian spirit for police, firefighters, and medical personnel. Monty suspected his name would be invoked many times over the next few days.

Simon reached for the carryall but didn’t pick it up.

He didn’t want to go. It was important and necessary, and a few months ago, he’d gone to the Midwest Region to meet with leaders and had dumped Meg and Sam together with barely a second thought. Now he wouldn’t hear her voice for days, wouldn’t have the comfort of her scent. Now he would miss her.

He picked up the carryall, walked out of his apartment, got into the van, and looked at Vlad, who was driving him to the train station.

“You’ll keep an eye on everything?” he said.

“She’ll be fine, Simon,” Vlad replied. “Meg won’t come to harm while you’re away.”

He sighed. “How did things get so stirred up?”