“Did you ever take anything?”

“No, but I’ve thought about it. Closest I’ve come was a house in Gentilly. I’d been tracking a wraith, lost him, but saw this house and went inside. Most of it was packed up—you could tell they’d left—but they’d left behind a few things. Big furniture. Mirrors. Some toys and sports equipment. And in one room—looked like the dad’s office—there were model airplanes hanging from the ceiling, probably a dozen of them. Lot of work went into them. I thought about liberating one. Seemed a shame all that work was going to waste.”

“So why didn’t you take it?”

He shrugged. “Because maybe they’ll come back one day. Or maybe the kids will. And those memories should be there for them. Should belong to them. Not to me.”

I could practically feel my heart melting. “You know, you play the tough guy, but I think you’ve got a pretty gooey heart in there, Quinn.”

Liam snorted, opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t have a chance. There was a streak of movement in front of us, a squeal.

“Shit,” Liam called out, then slammed on the brakes, throwing out an arm to keep me from flying forward.

The truck ground to a halt with a screech of tires. My heart pounded so loudly I’d have been surprised if he couldn’t hear it.

“Wraith?” I whispered.

He nodded and pulled back his arm. Wraith-in-front-of-the-truck being a classic move to get to second base quickly.

He pulled out a flashlight, switched it on, bobbed the circle across the street. There was a pop, and the light dimmed, went out, as did the truck’s headlights.

“Son of a bitch,” he said, thumping a hand on the dashboard. It didn’t help.

“Magic and electricity.”

“Yeah,” he said.

It was dark as pitch, hard to see without any sort of light, especially on streets overgrown with magnolias and crepe myrtles.

“Did you see it?”

“I think it was a girl.” I thought I’d seen a glimpse of long hair, maybe a red skirt. But she’d moved fast, crossing the street and stepping into the yard beyond before I’d gotten a good look at her. “She ran away,” I said.

“Yeah, I noticed that.”

“No, think about it: She only ran because she saw us. What kind of wraith does that? What kind of wraith doesn’t attack outright?” She also hadn’t seemed to care about my magic, but I was in the truck. Maybe that hadn’t been close enough.

Liam stared into the dark. “That’s a very good question.” He switched off the ignition, popped open the glove box, took out a small black case.

“What’s that?”

“Tranqs,” he said. “They don’t last very long, but if we can get into a position to use them, we can keep her from hurting herself or us.”

Since we didn’t have a tranq gun, I guessed that “position” meant close enough to punch in a syringe. That was pretty damn close.

Liam looked at me. “Is there any point in telling you to stay in the car?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. The power’s out, so the monitors won’t be on, nor will the cameras. You can use your magic if you have to, but you should be careful. You may not know when the power’s back on.”

I nodded. “I’ll be careful.”

He left the truck running. The starter was probably electric, and if the power stayed out and he turned it off, he wouldn’t be able to restart it, and we’d be walking back to the Quarter.

“Follow me,” Liam said, then opened the truck’s door slowly and quietly. He climbed out, offered me a hand, and I slid across cracked leather and down onto the street beside him. He closed the door just enough to get it out of the way, but didn’t bother shutting it. I’d yet to see a wraith who could hot-wire a vehicle. On the other hand, if they were getting smarter . . .