was by my side instantly, but I ignored him for the moment, rubbing my eyes until their normal focus returned.
“Well?” he asked.
“They said to wait while they sacrificed a goat and divined an answer from its entrails,” I said grumpily.
He blanched. “Huh?”
“They said to wait.”
“Did they say anything more helpful than that?”
I shrugged and leaned against the wall, keeping my voice low in the enclosed corridor. “They want to believe they’re morally superior, because they don’t go around hunting other species, but they’ve also spent the last decade as passive observers while others do their dirty work and now they have the nerve to be annoyed at the current state of things.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “You got all that from a ten-minute audience?”
“No, I went in there thinking that, but the audience confirmed it. They also seem to think that all Hunters are bloodthirsty murderers who will always choose the worst human over the best Dreg, and they keep using Rufus as their prime example.” My anger at their insistence on referring to him as “the murderer” returned, hot and encompassing.
“Rufus is hardly an example of the worst of us,” Wyatt said, disgust in his voice.
“Not to mention the fact that he’s a Handler.”
He scowled. “So?”
“So he gives the orders; he doesn’t actually pull the damned trigger.” I cocked my head sideways, studying Wyatt’s furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. “What?”
“Handlers live and die with the orders they give to their Hunters, Evy. Do you know how hard it is to be the one who says it’s time for a person to die? To give the Neutralize order on someone I’ve never met and who’s never personally done me any harm? Putting people I’ve come to care about in harm’s way day after day?”
His voice had risen incrementally during the mini-rant. I put my hand on his arm and shushed him. He continued to glare, but not at me. At himself, maybe, or at his role in life.
“All I meant,” I said, “is that it seems unfair to call Rufus a murderer when he wasn’t the one who went in with guns blazing and set the apartments on fire.”
“No, but it
“How many?”
“How many what?”
“How many Hunters have been under you?” He quirked one eyebrow, and I caught the subtle innuendo in my question. “I mean, how many Hunters have been in your Triad since the program began?”
“Officially? Six, including you.”
My lips parted. “In ten years? Really?”
“Yeah.” He turned and leaned on the wall next to him, his hand slipping into mine. I held it loosely while he spoke, grateful for his warmth. “Before you was Cole Randall, before Jesse was Guy Aldiss, and before Ash was Laurie Messenger. Ash replaced Laurie eight years ago, so she was my longest-surviving Hunter, but after you came, you three were the longest unit to survive intact. Four years is a damned long time for a Triad.”
I grunted, struggling to tamp down the grief that welled up when I thought about Jesse and Ash. Barely two weeks since I lost them, and I’d not given myself much time to grieve. For them or for anyone I’d lost. There just hadn’t been the luxury of time. It was easier to compartmentalize it and store it away.
“It’s funny,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. “Except for that first night, I never really thought about the Hunter I replaced, or what his rank was in the Triad. Was Cole a good guy?”
He squeezed my hand tighter. “Yeah, he was. Good fighter, quick thinker. One of the few Hunters I’ve ever met who actually liked using a broadsword. Heavy damned thing, but it was his preferred combat weapon. He’d swing it at goblins like a baseball bat and make some impressive splatters.”
“I’m sorry he died.” It was a strange sentiment. A real live person had died a horrible, grisly death at the hand of some murderous Bloods to allow me to take my place in Wyatt’s Triad. Every single Hunter in the city was there because someone else had died. Just as Boot Camp was diligently training the kids who would one day take our places in the ranks.
“I’m sorry, too.” His voice was soft, strangled. “Did the Assembly say anything else useful?”
“Just to investigate Snow’s connection to the Triads and we’d find his motivation. My guess is someone’s team has tangled with him in the past, and all the hints they were dropping pointed to Rufus.”
“Too bad getting access to him now is going to be harder than robbing a bank with a rubber-band gun.”
I couldn’t argue with that.
We stood in silence for several minutes, until my neck started to ache. I straightened up and rolled it, then flexed my knees. Let some circulation back into my muscles.
“Legs okay?” Wyatt asked.
“Fine, I’m just getting tired of standing.”
“We could sit.”
“And tempt them to take longer? No thanks.”
“I don’t suppose they gave you a timetable on their decision?”
“I’d guess not much longer. They made their feelings pretty clear before they kicked me out.”
As if to prove my point, the door swung open and Jenner emerged. The grim line of his mouth told me my answer.
“I’m sorry,” Jenner said as the door fell shut. “But their decision is no.”
I blew a frustrated breath through my teeth. “I’d like to say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”
“It was a close vote, believe it or not. I was impressed by those who supported you.”
“I guess asking who they are is useless.” On Jenner’s nod, I asked, “Were any of the bi-shifters on my side?”
“About half.”
“The man who asked questions, the one with the really deep voice? Which Clan was he from?”
Jenner shifted his weight, his eyes flickering away. Subtle hints to his discomfort. For a lawyer, he had a terrible poker face.
“He’s Kitsune, isn’t he?” I asked. He nodded.
Wyatt grunted, which earned him a strange look from Jenner. Not quite a glare, but certainly not friendly. “Well,” Wyatt said, “this has been a complete waste of time.”
“Not entirely,” I said. “Maybe I didn’t get what I came here for, but I did learn a few things I hadn’t otherwise known.” My pointed look was just for Wyatt. He held my gaze for a few seconds, then nodded.
“What is your next step?” Jenner asked.
“We wait for Phin to give us an update,” I said. “And we keep digging into who this Call guy is and, likewise, Snow’s connection to the Triads. Mr. Jenner, I hate to inconvenience you, but—”
“You require transportation.”
“Yes.”
“I can help you acquire a car, but after that my involvement must end. I cannot jeopardize my position with the Assembly by continuing to assist you.”
“I understand. And thank you.”
Chapter Nineteen
5:15 P.M.
Jenner helped us get a rental car, late-model, very discreet—something with wheels to get us around town for the next few days. After handing over the keys in the parking lot of the rental place, he extended his hand. I thought he meant to shake mine.
