Ti laughed. “You can tell me later, okay?” he said, and began walking away.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Madigan stood at the entrance to an alleyway. Jack and Jenny were barking quietly to one another as they paced down it, like they were having a conversation.

“Did something happen here?” Madigan asked and gestured to include the surrounding area.

“This is near where my friend got jumped.”

“Well, this alley smells like vampires. Not like the one that your shirt smells like, but vampires. They must have been waiting for you.”

It was the first time Madigan had said the V-word. I guessed he was in on the County’s little joke after all.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

He held out a palm full of cigarette butts. “Damn things always smoke.” Jenny bounded ahead, then dug in the snow, unearthing a fresh pile, right beneath a fire escape. She barked.

“Hand-rolled. Apple-flavored tobacco,” Madigan reported.

I put a hand to my stomach. That part was familiar at least—I could remember the stench of rotting apples coming off the vampire that got away.

“They drove off in a car, though—” I looked up the fire escape, snaking a path up the back of a short red town house. Mr. November’s building. The bottom of it was off the ground, but the top easily reached Mr. November’s back window. “How hard would it have been for them to climb up there?”

“Not very.” Ti walked over, bent down, and then launched himself up to catch the edge. He pulled it down along with a light snowfall of rust as it descended. Jenny and Jack ran up it as it hit the ground, paws clattering along. They reached the top landing and barked.

“After you,” I told Ti, and we followed, much more slowly, after them.

The metal landing outside of Mr. November’s room was littered with cigarette butts. I peeked in through the window. The room was now completely trashed. All the photos from the walls were shredded, looking like kindling left in several small piles.

“We didn’t even hear them outside—” I said.

“They could have been there for days. Stalking the place, waiting for you and your friend to show up,” Madigan said. “Cold doesn’t bother them much either.”

“But what about the daylight?”

“Daytimers. Besides, your vampire friend, the one they were waiting for—they knew she couldn’t come here herself during the day.”

“We were attacked by ten of them, though. Ten wouldn’t have fit up here.”

Ti paced in the small area. “Then one called the rest.”

“Yeah.” They had had enough time, what with Anna and I arguing, loudly, inside. I couldn’t imagine one of them managing to be quiet outside on the escape—which felt like it was threatening to disconnect from the wall and collapse with each movement we made—but she’d been so emotional. Which was strange, when you considered the fact that she was a vampire.

A baying sound began from below. Jenny and Jack raced back down the escape, closely followed by Madigan. Ti and I followed, the rickety structure feeling less certain every step. I suddenly remembered that I’m not so fond of heights, especially not at high speed—and maybe three days’ worth of work and worry caught up with me at once. Something small and black flashed in the corner of one eye, and I stopped quickly on the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Ti caught my arm as I threatened to tumble forward.

“I’m fine.” I stood for a second and blinked a lot. It must have been a flake of rust—or vampire ash. I rubbed at my eye, but kept slowly going down, Ti at my side.

We exited the alley, with Ti’s hand on my elbow, supporting me. I kept blinking, but the speck of gray wouldn’t disappear. Madigan stood near his truck with his three dogs beside him, holding on to the shoulder of a pissed-off teen. He was dressed like the thugs hovering in the background on Nyjara’s album covers, puffy black leather coat, black pants, white leather shoes, only he didn’t look angry enough to pull off the look. Given time, though—

“I just wanted to pet your dog, mister!” the teenager said, yanking his arm out of Madigan’s grasp.

“And not steal my rims?”

The teenager cursed under his breath. “You think you got anything worth stealing? Please.”

I was still muddling with my eye; the black speck hadn’t gone anywhere. I hadn’t had a stroke, had I? I held my arms out, and could see them both, even and unwavering, in front of me.

“Edie?” Ti asked.

“My face—it’s all the same, right? None of it is drooping?” I stuck out my tongue, wondering if it was still even. Then I held one hand up in front of my face.

I covered my bad eye first and saw Ti watching me, with my good eye. He was clearly worried. I covered my good eye up, and looked at him with my bad eye … and saw a glow. Like the afterimage you’d get from rubbing any eye too hard, lights and blurs. Only I wasn’t rubbing it now, and the lights wouldn’t stop. Had I somehow managed to get instantaneous glaucoma?

“Look, you don’t just pet another man’s dog. You’re lucky that he didn’t bite you,” Madigan went on.

“He was wagging his tail. He seemed friendly enough,” the teen protested. I heard Jimmie’s tail thump from inside the truck’s bed—his guard dog duty had been a clever sham, and this kid’d walked by, and—I looked over at the kid and winked.

“Edie?” Ti asked again.

There was a faint outline now—of … of Jimmie’s head. Only it didn’t stay the same; it faded in and out between the square-jawed partial pit bull I guessed Madigan’s dog to be, and the cherubic face of a young boy. Maybe as young as six. And the teen—with this othersight, he still appeared as sullen as he sounded, but his right hand glowed.

I’d seen that glow before. My badge glowed like that, when I was around Y4-style danger. I pressed my other hand to my chest, and felt my badge’s edges sharp against my skin. So this was the Shadow’s self-serving gift to me.

“Hey, kid—” I stopped winking and looked at him through my normal eyes. Both his hands were empty. “Did you see someone here? A few nights ago? Dark suits, sunglasses in the dark?”

He crossed his arms. “There’s lots of dealers around here.”

“You talked to one of them, though. Gave him something. Touched him—”

“What’re you, psychic?” he said, backing up roughly against the truck. Jimmie growled.

“Sure.” I pointed. “I read palms. That hand right there, you touched one of them. Where’d they come from? Where’d they go? What’d you sell them?”

The kid looked at his own hand like it might have still had a spot on it. Ti and Madigan were looking back and forth between us, and the dogs all had their heads tilted in a listening fashion.

“He wanted to know where to go to get girls.” The kid rubbed his hand up and down on his pants, like he was wiping off a stain. “He paid me a twenty. I didn’t sell him any drugs.”

“Where’d you tell him?”

“Everyone knows where you can get girls around here. The only reason I made him pay me was because he looked like he could afford it.” He looked Madigan and me up and down. I went for my wallet in my pocket—

“I got it.” Ti pulled out a twenty instead, and held it up, right in front of his own face. The kid slowly looked up at Ti, snatched the money fast, then looked away.

“What happened to you, man?” he asked, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Fire. The ones who did this to me are gonna pay.” Ti took a step forward. His coat made his shoulders appear even wider than they really were, and his chest even thicker. “Which girls?” he asked, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill, holding it squarely in front of the teen’s face.

“All the girls are on Seventeenth and F Street. After dark, that is.” The kid swatted for the cash, missed, and Ti let the bill flutter to the ground. The teen did a shimmy while standing in place, torn between ducking down to get the bill and being in kicking range of Ti’s legs, I felt.

“Here.” I knelt, picked it up, and handed it over, without looking at Ti. I ran through my pockets and found a pen and a piece of paper. “Here’s my number. If you ever see any of them again, call me.” I gave the kid a sheepish look, knowing that Ti was probably glowering behind me.

“Whatever.” He snatched the paper away.

The dogs that were blocking the teen’s path ducked away at an unseen command. The kid turned around and stalked off, waiting till he was halfway down the block to yell “Freak!” behind him, at the top of his lungs, before running down an alleyway.

“Load up,” Madigan said, opening the gate of his truck. Jack and Jenny leaped up, and Jimmie whuffled them. My vision in my left eye was still blurry, but as Madigan rounded the truck, I turned toward Ti.

“What was that about? I thought you got burned in a firefighting accident?”

“I did. But sometimes it’s good to play into stereotype.” He gave me a wicked grin, and opened up Madigan’s door. A sheep in wolf’s clothing, indeed. I sighed, and hopped up inside.

* * *

“So how about dinner tonight? Before you go to work?” Madigan asked as we neared the parking lot. “We eat late, and my wife is making stew—”

I looked at the clock on his dashboard. I’d only slept for maybe four hours that morning after my meeting with Geoffrey, before meeting Ti. I’d been counting on a long nap between now and work. Then again—as far as I knew I only had to show up to work. Meaty’d give me an easy “poor-girl-who-is-going-to-die-soon” assignment. And—Ti squeezed my knee. “Sure,” I answered.

“Sounds good,” Ti said. “Assuming the invitation was for both of us, that is.”

“It wouldn’t be much of an invitation if it wasn’t,” Madigan said with a grin, and made another fierce left-hand turn.