I took a deep breath, trying to force down the wave of panic clawing at my chest. She was gone. That was a fact; that was something I was going to have to deal with. All it really meant was that I was going to need to get her back.

I stepped deeper into the brush, watching the ground for signs of disturbance. Lindworms don’t normally have territories that span more than a few miles, but she’d killed the local male’s mate. If it had somehow tracked her, it might have—

No. I rejected the thought as quickly as it came. Shelby had not been dragged away by a hungry lindworm. This wasn’t Jaws: an animal that consisted of nothing but hunger and survival instinct wasn’t going to come looking for revenge. Even if it was, it wouldn’t come near the zoo—too many people, too many large scavengers. And besides, there would be traces if something that large had been through here. The brush was almost undisturbed. Nothing larger than a human had passed recently.

The trunk of the tree where Shelby had been leaning was damp and sticky with her blood. I touched the bark, unsure whether or not I should be reassured when my fingers came away red. Then I looked down, and began trying to sort through the broken branches as I looked for a direction. This trail was where I’d carried Shelby from the road, and this trail was where I had forged my way back in . . .

When I was done, there was only one trail unaccounted for, wider and slightly more uneven than the others, like whoever had walked there had been dealing with an unexpected weight. I followed it to a spot on the road a few yards from where Shelby and I had originally entered the trees. Crouching down, I studied the pavement, looking for tracks. There were some muddy scuffs, like someone had walked here recently. And there was a single drop of blood.

Someone had taken Shelby. Someone had followed us out of the zoo and taken her.

I wanted to be sick. Instead, I pulled out my phone and walked back to the car, scrolling through my contacts until I came to the number labeled “dry cleaning.” I pressed it and raised the phone to my ear.

“Yes?”

“Grandma.” I closed my eyes. “I need you. Please come.”

I was still standing next to my car when my grandmother pulled up, parking her own car so that it blocked the entire road. She launched herself from the driver’s seat at me, and Crow was close behind her, his wings spread wide as he arrowed for my chest. He hit me like a small feathery missile, and I wrapped my arms around him, automatically supporting his hindquarters in order to keep him from shredding my shoulders.

“You’re projecting panic, Grandma,” I said, fighting to keep my voice level. Maybe it was my anti-telepathy charm taking the edge off, and maybe it was the fact that I was panicking quite well without any outside help, but I didn’t want to run for the woods. I just wanted the extra waves of fear to stop. “Please pull it back. I don’t know how much I can take.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, stricken. Her eyes flashed white, and the foreboding in the air decreased. I only wished she could take my panic away as easily as she’d stopped projecting her own. “What can I do?”

“You’ve already done it. You brought Crow.” I walked back to the place on the road where that last drop of blood glittered dark and foreboding against the pavement and knelt, putting Crow carefully down. He looked up at me and cawed, tail lashing. “Shelby, Crow. Where’s Shelby?”

He sat down and croaked at me.

“Shelby. You liked Shelby. I know you can track by smell. You’ve tracked me through five miles of dense forest because you thought it was time for dinner. Now where is Shelby?”

Crow looked at me for a moment, head cocked to the side. Then he leaned forward and sniffed the ground, wings half-mantling, before he launched himself into the air. In seconds, he was gone, flying up over the zoo and disappearing.

I gaped. When I asked my grandmother to bring the Church Griffin, I hadn’t been counting on the fact that he had wings and I didn’t. “Oh, shit,” I said, and ran back to my car. “Southeast, he’s going southeast. What’s southeast of here?”

“Lots of things, Alex, that’s not exactly a small question!” said Grandma, following me. “Woods. Some cave systems. Dayton . . .”

“The gorgons.” I raised my head and looked at her. “That’s where the cockatrice came from. That’s where this all started. And they’re to the southeast, too. Someone from the gorgon community has Shelby.”

Grandma stared at me. Then, in a dangerous tone, she said, “I don’t have to move my car. I can keep you here.”

“No, you can’t.” I got into the driver’s seat, fastening my seat belt on autopilot. “I’m going after her, Grandma. I have to go after her. I’m the reason she got involved in all of this to begin with.” She was the reason I was distracted. I’d spent years keeping myself from forming any attachments that could interfere with my work, and then Shelby goddamn Tanner had come along and fucked everything up. And all I wanted now was to see her safely home.

“Then I’m coming with you,” said Grandma. “I can’t let you run into a nest of snakes alone.”

“That’s racist,” I said automatically. Then I shook my head. “No. Grandpa’s at work, the cockatrice is still somewhere in the city, and you can’t leave Sarah alone for as long as this is going to take. I’m trained for this. Now please. I’m not going to argue with you while Shelby’s out there bleeding to death.” Assuming Shelby still had blood; assuming she wasn’t a statue by now.

That kind of thinking wouldn’t get me any closer to saving my girlfriend. I shut the car door, rolling down the window so that I could say, “I’ll call as soon as I know anything. Trust me and my ability not to get myself killed over something stupid, all right? Now please. Move your car.”

She looked at me sadly for what felt like hours but was probably just a few seconds before nodding and walking back to her own vehicle. I rolled up my window and clutched the steering wheel, waiting for her to get out of my way so that I could follow Crow’s flight path across the city.

The second her car had rolled far enough to leave me room to maneuver, I hit the gas, blasting past my grandmother and heading for the main road at an unsafe speed. I made matters worse by pulling out my phone again, driving one-handed as I pulled up the number for the Sarpas.