His lips thinned as he pressed them together. “You are being a bitch.”

“I’m being a boss,” I said with a tight smile. “Though I doubt you’d see the difference.”

He bent and grabbed a copy of Charlotte’s Web off the bottom shelf, handed it to me. I took it.

“How hard was that?”

“That’ll be 3.99,” he growled.

I pulled a five-dollar bill from my purse, using the motion to pull my long shirt up just enough for him to see the knives strapped to my thighs.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you change.”

“Keep it.” I brushed past him, stopping at his desk. I scooped one of the pens off the surface and handed it to the shop keeper. “Sign this for me.”

“What?”

“Sign as if you were the author.” I pushed the pen and book at him and watched as he scrawled “EB White” onto the title page.

“You are crazy,” he muttered.

“And dangerous, don’t forget that,” I said as I took the book and the pen, stuffing them both into my bag and then backing my bike out. Several of the customers were watching me. I waved at them and then yelled, “Look out, crazy old lady on the loose!”

I pedaled the bike along the cobblestone street, to the far end, as far away as I could get from a certain address on Factors Row. That was the problem with the two streets running parallel to each other. The last thing I needed was for Crash or Feish to see me.

At the end, I turned and peeked into the alley between the two streets. I grimaced. “Jinx. I need to hire you for a job.”

There was a scuttling above me, and the big spider jumped down but didn’t advance on me. In fact, she was still favoring one of her eight legs.

“You have nothing I want,” she said, but she didn’t walk away. I held up a hand.

“I think I do.” I pulled out the battered-up copy of Charlotte’s Web. “I have a signed edition of your favorite book.”

She gasped. “Give it to me.”

I tucked it into my bag. “I need you to track someone for me. You can change shapes, right? I saw you turn into a person after you stuck me with your hairs, and I tossed you around.”

Her eight feet did a funny tap dance that drummed across the cobblestones. “Yes. I can. For the book, I’ll track something for you. A shape of my choice, though.”

I was hoping for a dog. “You’ll have to act like you’re my pet. To keep the tourists from realizing that you aren’t normal.”

Her feet tapped again, rapidly, and I got the impression it was her version of a nervous tic. “Who are you looking for? Boy toy?”

I frowned. “Who?” Then held up my hand. “Never mind. I’m looking for a friend.” I didn’t give her more than that because I really didn’t trust the spider. Tricksy Jinx indeed.

“You touch him recently?”

I nodded. “Yes, you mean you can pull his smell off me?”

Her body shivered and she turned and walked around the corner onto Factors Row. Sure, we were an easy quarter mile from Crash’s, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t notice me peeking around the corner.

I waited. “Jinx?”

A snuffle cut through the air and then out bobbled a bear. Not just any bear. A great big black bear that smelled of musk and a darkly wooded forest.

I couldn’t help my feet from taking me backward. “Holy crap on toast! A bear? Really?”

“Best nose.” She rubbed her face against the inside of her leg. “Too good. You smell like a lot of creatures. You get around, huh?”

I frowned, wanting to point out that her words could be taken two ways, but maybe that was what she’d intended. “The bigfoot.”

She started out straight away, heading down the length of Factors Row. “Can we take a different direction?” I asked.

“Scent is here.”

Oh no.

This was not good.

If Eric’s smell was here, then . . .

Crash really was the bad guy. He’d been the one to take Eric. There went my thoughts of finding my way back into his bed. Damn it, I really did a have a thing for the assholes. Here I’d thought he was different, and not just because he’d been kind to me.

I blew out a breath. “Lead on.”

21

Jinx, in bear form, trundled down the path to Crash’s shop, her big paws padding along silently with only the occasional scratch of her claws on the cobblestone path. The heat was stifling, weighing down on me as much as the worry of what we’d find. She paused there, pushed on the boarded-up door with her snout, took a deep breath, and then continued on down the path. I walked behind her with my bike. No point in riding it, but I wasn’t leaving it behind either.

“He was here?” I asked. “Eric was here? You’re sure?” What the hell? Wouldn’t Feish and I have noticed if someone had dragged him past us from Gran’s house?

Had Crash gone and found Eric when I’d been sleeping and taken him back to Factors Row? I frowned, just not seeing it. When would Crash have had time to get Eric? The timeline didn’t fit.

“Yes, bigfoot was here. Gone now. Just dead fish.”

Her words hit me hard and a rush of air slid out of me. “What?”

“Smells like dead fish. And the other one. I can’t say what he is, not allowed. But he was here too, and angry.” Her ears bobbled.

I put my hands to my head, mind and heart racing. Feish was my friend, and if she’d been hurt . . . If Crash had hurt her, then it was my fault for dragging her into this. “Wait here.”

“Sure.” Jinx sat and scratched at her belly with her long claws. I pushed my hand against the door and slid through the opening, the edges of it dragging against my bare arms. Adrenaline soared and I struggled to keep my breathing steady. Only one of the urns was burning, but a few candles were scattered around, two on their sides but still burning.

“Feish?” I whispered her name.

A smell I didn’t like flowed to my nose. Something dead and something fishy, just like Jinx had said.

Please God, don’t let it be Feish.

Step by step, I drew closer to Crash’s workstation. The tools that had been carefully laid out had been tossed everywhere, as if a seriously pissed off someone had thrown a tantrum. I found myself pulling out the two knives from my thigh sheaths, taking comfort from the fact that at least I wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Who are you?”

I shrieked and spun, slashing with the knives toward the voice. The speaker bellowed and fell backward, a hand to his face. So much for not being surprised.

The man stumbled back a few more steps, breathing hard. “Who are you?” he repeated, his voice a tenor, full of anger and what I could only describe as power. He sounded powerful.

Which meant there was no way I was giving him my name—I remembered that much from Gran. “I’m with the Hollows.”

“Meddling idiots . . .” he growled, and slowly stood. Very tall, very slim, his face was hooded with a cloak, so he was definitely the bad guy here. Or at least he looked the part.

I didn’t lower the blades, but instead lifted them to eye level and pointed the tips at him. “Who are you?”

“I am one of the council, here to check on this . . . criminal.” He spat the word at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m friends with Feish.”

“Fish? You’re friends with a fish?” The hood concealed his eyes and face, but I could hear the condescension as clearly as if he’d tried to spell the word and failed.

“Her name is Fe-ish,” I said, “And she works for Crash.”

“That is not his name,” the man said, then snorted. “And he is a criminal, so anyone working with him is criminal by association, including any and all fish.” His tone made it clear that he felt that included me as well.

I arched a brow as best I could, my arms shaking from holding them up so long, but I didn’t feel he’d warranted me lowering them. “Fine, he’s a criminal. What are you doing here?”

“You dare to question me?” he snapped. “I am one of the Thirteen.”

I shrugged. “Means nothing to me.” Which wasn’t entirely true. In fact, even as I spoke, the memories of Gran explaining the Thirteen blinked on inside my head like a string of Christmas lights. Well, a string of Christmas lights with several bulbs still blinking off and on, and a few more completely dark.

But this, I recalled some of this. The Thirteen were the heads of the Savannah Council of Shadows. Thirteen to keep the rest of the supernaturals in line. Thirteen to represent all the factions. Witch. Shifter. Fae. Necromancers . . . those were the ones I remembered. I did lower the blades then. “You’re not doing a very good job of keeping your people safe.”

“Excuse me?” His tone was dark, and I suppose it might have sounded terribly frightening to some people. I, on the other hand, was tired, hot, sweaty, and old enough to not give two figs about his hurt feelings.

“Don’t you use that tone with me, boy,” I snapped, assuming he was younger than me by the way he was acting. “I am old enough to not take your garbage, and I won’t apologize for pointing out the obvious. If you are part of a council that is supposed to care for those in the shadows, then you are doing a piss-poor job of it!” I turned not completely away from him, but away enough that I could search the area behind Crash’s workstation.

“We do a fine job—”

“Really? Is that why you have a bigfoot that’s been kidnapped and is probably going to be put on a chopping block if I don’t find him?” I put one knife back in its sheath and pulled my flashlight out. “Is that why you’ve lost control of this criminal?” I swept the area, saw a few spots of blood. Still keeping the council member somewhat within sight, I continued looking for Feish. She wasn’t here that I could see. “This is why you have demons running around in daylight?” He sucked in a sharp breath and I ran over him with my words. “What is your name?”