nose tingle.
“I don’t know!” Tattoo wailed the last syllable of his declaration, and the word trailed off into a sob. “Stop. I don’t know.”
I twisted my head to look up at Phin. He watched Tattoo with the eye of a scientist observing an experiment. “You believe him?” I asked.
“He has no loyalties to protect here,” Phin replied. “No one to lie for unless he’s already been actively recruited.”
“I haven’t,” Tattoo sobbed. “I swear, I haven’t. Cover me up.”
“I think I believe him,” I said. “Say good night, John Boy.”
I slapped the strip of tape back down over Tattoo’s mouth. Phin retracted his wings, tucked them back against his body, and retreated three steps. I stood and followed, giving Tattoo plenty of room to flail. The Halfie squealed behind his gag, his entire body convulsing. Exposed skin blistered red, then black, under the glare of the sun.
Hand over mouth and nose, I watched with no satisfaction as another life infected by the vampire parasite came to a fiery end. His hair caught fire and scorched into a shrinking mass of black and gray. Black flesh smoked and peeled, leaving layers of exposed meat and muscle. Tattoo’s gag-muffled scream seemed to go on and on, even after he stopped struggling.
The sound of death didn’t rise above the din of the city and this neighborhood of lost, lonely souls.
By the time we came back downstairs, half of our beating victims were on the express bus to Decompose. The rest were dispatched quickly. Without anti-coag ammo, I settled for breaking their necks with a twenty-pound weight.
We didn’t speak, even though I found myself with half a dozen questions—and most of them for Phineas. I still knew little about his whole half transformation thing, and the intense way he’d acted while interrogating Tattoo had further piqued my curiosity.
Tattoo had asked if Phin was an angel. The same question balanced on the tip of my own tongue.
I had half a mind to ransack the place while I was there, just to make sure the Halfies didn’t keep communing over heavy bags and sweaty gym clothes. Phin’s abrupt turn toward the back hallway changed my mind. I trailed after him, observing the shape of his beautiful wings, the way he held them close against his body, and hadn’t made them disappear as he’d done before.
He was also limping. Either I hadn’t noticed it earlier, or he’d only just started in the last ten seconds. Favoring his left leg, fatigue starting to sag his shoulders. I eyed his leg. Noticed a spot on the upper thigh where the black denim was darker. He pushed through the back door, stepped outside, and left a small red smudge on the floor instead of a footprint.
“You’re hurt,” I said, following him into the rank alley.
“It’s fine.”
“Then why are you limping?”
My question flipped a switch in Phin—he walked straight, no limp, shoulders back, all the way to his car. The red smudge repeated itself half a dozen times. I was so intent on following the faint blood trail I didn’t notice his wings disappear. They were gone when we returned to the car, his bare back showing no hint that they’d ever been there.
Phin held the door open for me; I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Are you getting in?” he asked.
“I want to see your leg.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s bleeding, Phin. It’s not fine.”
“It’s a scratch. They didn’t bite me.”
“Good. So show me.”
He cocked his head. “In order to show you, I’d have to drop my pants in the middle of the street—something I’m not about to do. Now will you get in the car?”
Okay, I’d give him that one. I climbed across the front seat and settled into the passenger side. “Thank you,” I said, after he started the engine.
Hands on the steering wheel, all I got was his angular profile. One glittering eye, focused straight ahead. “For what?”
For what? “Saving my life back there.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You’re welcome.” He turned his head, blue eyes painfully bright, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. “Wouldn’t do for my people’s protector to get herself killed her first day on the job.”
I smiled. “Looks like those wings come in handy in a fight.”
The amusement flickered out. His mouth pulled into a taut line. “Maybe we can keep that between us.”
“Only if you tell me why.”
“You saw something our kind is forbidden to show to outsiders, Evy. The first transformation was to prove a point. The second was an instinctual reaction during combat—one I should have tried harder to fight. Those half- breeds never should have seen me like that.”
If words could physically cause pain, the amount of self-flagellation in his voice would have had him on the floor, sobbing like a baby. I understood losing control, having done it many times in the course of my job. I understood second-guessing actions performed in the heat of battle, if they turned out to have negative consequences. I just didn’t understand the self-hatred over flashing a little feather.
“Call me dense,” I said, “but I don’t get it. You grow wings when you get mad?”
“No, that’s not …” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “Did you ever ponder the reasons for the Owlkins’ choice of pacifism? Why we prefer to stay out of conflicts and have chosen to live in peace with your kind?”
“Not really.”
There were many things about the various Dreg species I didn’t ponder the reasons for; it was easier to just accept things than to question them. Owlkins didn’t fight. Were-cats were always looking for a brawl. Gremlins were scavengers. Vampires thought themselves superior to every other living thing. Humans wanted desperately to keep our city intact and under our control.
Under Phin’s intense gaze, I was ashamed of that lack of interest. If knowledge was power, then I was pretty damned weak. “Why, Phin?” I asked. “Can all weres do what you do?”
He didn’t answer right away. He seemed to study me, his eyes in constant motion as their focus shifted across my face. Whatever questions ran through his mind, whatever consequences he considered, he came up with his own answers. And made a decision.
“Not all, but some of the Clans do,” he said. “Those of us with the ability to bi-shift are regarded as … higher-class than those who can’t. We’ve been among your people for a longer period of time. Much longer, and we’ve learned enough to know when to leave the battles to others.”
“You think that’s why Rufus was given the destroy order.” My stomach knotted. “Whoever gave the order knew your position within the Clan Assembly?”
“That’s my suspicion, yes. My fear is that they know the others who possess the ability to bi-shift and that they may be targeted next. Disregarding the gremlins, the Clans make up the largest population of nonhumans in the city. Weakening us gives someone else a stronger position.”
I turned the information over in my head. It certainly changed my perspective on the day so far. Not only on Phin’s deception in gaining my help but on the actions of my own people over the course of the last ten days. Something stank, and it wasn’t the trash cans on the street.
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” I asked. “If you want my help in protecting Joseph and Aurora, I need to know everything before it becomes relevant. You need to start trusting me a little.”
“The way you’ve trusted me?”
“I guess we both have trouble trusting people first.”
“You say you’ll help me, and I believe you. Please understand, the Clans have strict rules about who we share certain information with. You’ve seen me bi-shift, and I can’t change that. I just ask that you and your friend keep it to yourselves.”