CHAPTER NINE

Laura kept watch in vain In sullen silence of exceeding pain.

She never again caught the goblin cry

Tango fumbled with the switch on the flashlight, flicking it off just before the front door opened and the lights in the apartment came on. Nothing she had found in the master bedroom would seem to indicate that Atlanta Hunter was in any kind of relationship. Tango didn’t know who the man was. She didn’t care. She wanted Atlanta now as badly as someone had wanted Riley a few days ago. Creeping over to the door of the bedroom, Miranda just behind her, Tango peered around the corner and down toward the living room.

She could just see Atlanta and the man who was with her. He seemed to be about the same age as the woman, with short hair that was just starting to turn gray at the temples. Atlanta looked just as she had on the airplane, cool and arrogant. The man had his arms around her and was kissing her throat fiercely. Atlanta’s head was thrown back. “Get rid of the man,” Tango whispered to Miranda. “But be careful of Atlanta. She might be dangerous. I’ll take care of her. On my signal....” She raised her hand, waiting until the man and the woman were once again kissing face to face.

Her hand came down.

Miranda slipped past her, sliding down the hallway as smoothly and silently as a steel ball on an oiled track. Shadows slid with her, shrouding her movements. Tango felt like an elephant in her wake. Though she moved stealthily as well, she could only envy the vampire’s predatory grace. They were practically on top of Atlanta and the man before Atlanta happened to glance up. With a muffled yelp of surprise, she tried to push the man away.

Then Miranda had her hand on his shoulder and was tearing him around. His face, wrenched away from Atlanta’s, looked into Miranda’s with shock... until he met her gaze. His eyes glazed over almost instantly. Miranda propelled him toward the door. “Get out,” she said. “You never came in here. Atlanta said goodbye to you at the door.” The man went with her meekly.

Atlanta’s eyes narrowed as she glanced from Tango to Miranda. Tango reached for her, trying to grab her arms and twist them behind her. Atlanta was just a fraction of a second faster, though. She leaped for the door. One hand dipped into her purse, coming up with a hand-sized black cylinder. Miranda turned to look at her, startled.

Tango tackled the blond woman, wrapping her arms around Atlanta’s legs and bringing her crashing to the floor. The black cylinder went skittering across the floor. Pepper spray. “Shut the door!” Tango hissed at Miranda. The vampire shoved the man out into the hall, pointing him toward the elevator, then quickly swung the door shut and threw the lock. There was a chain on the door, and she fastened that as well. Tango dragged her way up Atlanta’s struggling body, one outstretched arm clamped over the other woman’s mouth. Atlanta twisted like an animal, but remained astonishingly calm, fighting intelligently. She heaved at Tango, trying to dislodge her, but couldn’t. Tango got a gtip on Atlanta’s shoulders and slammed her back against the floor, stunning her momentarily. “Where’s Riley?” she demanded. She clenched her hand and brought her knife into existence, holding the blade where Atlanta could see it very clearly. “I’m going to take my hand away now. Don’t scream. Just answer my questions.”

She lifted her hand enough to let Atlanta speak, but kept it close enough to slap back down quickly. The blond woman looked at her defiantly. “Who are you?” “Where’s Riley?”

“What are you talking about?” Atlanta didn’t seem at all frightened or intimidated. She glared at Tango and then at Miranda. “I don’t know either of you. If you want money, take my purse.”

“We don’t want money. We’re looking for someone. A red-haired man named Riley. What do you know about him?”

Atlanta looked back up at her. “Nothing. Am I supposed to?”

Tango hesitated. There were changelings who could tell instantly when someone was lying, and a few others who could make any lie told in their presence come out of the speaker’s mouth as a belch or a living toad. Unfortunately, all Tango had to go on was experience and instinct. And all of her experience and instincts told her that Atlanta was telling the truth. She really didn’t recognize Tango and she didn’t know who Riley was. “I was on the airplane from San Francisco. I sat next to your daughter, Cheryl. You were in the seat behind her.”

“My daughter,” Atlanta said woodenly, “died sixteen years ago.” She studied Tango’s face, then nodded slowly. “I recognize you now. You were on the flight. I don’t remember who was beside you.”

“There was a little girl there. She came on board with you. About eight years old. Blond.” Tango clenched her jaw. Atlanta had to be lying — and if she was, she was very good at it. Unless there was more magic involved here. Tango worked a kenning and examined the woman under her. Nothing. No Glamour. No hint of human magick. “Cheryl showed me her charm bracelet,” Tango added, searching for a response.

She got one. Atlanta was silent for a moment, then she rolled her head to one side, looking away. “Get out!” she spat, emotion in her voice for the first time. “Get out! I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but it isn’t funny.”

Tango ground her teeth in frustration. This was ridiculous. She couldn’t have been wrong, could she? Atlanta was the woman from the plane. The photograph albums showed her and her supposedly dead daughter — and Riley. She had the foul charm bracelet! Tango’s hand itched to slap Atlanta across the face. She was very tempted to give in to her anger. She pushed it back.

Miranda put a hand on her shoulder. “Wait. Let me try.” She crouched down and reached out with both hands, turning Atlanta’s head back to look at her. She stared into the blond woman’s eyes. “Answer our questions.”

Atlanta wrenched her head away. “Go to hell,” she spat miserably. Miranda frowned up at Tango. She reached for Atlanta’s head again, seizing it almost roughly when Atlanta tried to shake her off a second time, and applying enough strength that the woman was forced to turn or else have her neck injured. Miranda’s dark eyes gazed deep into Atlanta’s. The blond woman went pale, her lips pressing together. Miranda forced her will upon her. Atlanta’s eyes went wide. The muscles of her body went limp. With a sense of triumph, Tango started to slide off her.

“Don’t,” hissed Miranda.

Tango resumed her hold on the unresisting Atlanta. “Why?”

“Something’s wrong. I can’t get a grip on her mind.” Miranda’s eyes went narrow. “I’ve felt this with Tolly sometimes. I told you he’s crazy? It’s almost impossible to keep a firm hold on a crazy mind. She...”

Abruptly, Atlanta’s chest heaved under Tango as the blond woman took a deep breath and then blinked. Miranda growled, her fangs bared in surprised annoyance. Atlanta stared at her. “What were you doing to me?” she asked in an awestruck voice. “What are you?”

Miranda ignored her and glanced at Tango. “She’s as crazy as Tolly,” she said bluntly. “I can’t touch her.”

Tango looked down at Atlanta. The woman was losing her composure now, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she stared at Miranda. Maybe... maybe Atlanta was telling the truth. Maybe she didn’t know anything about Riley, or the magic in the charm bracelet. Tango licked her lips as she thought. Maybe, if she really was insane, somebody or something was using her madness. “Atlanta,” she asked gently, “why do you still have a bedroom for Cheryl? Why do you still buy her clothes?” Atlanta’s mouth closed with an audible snap. Her face and her whole body started to shake. She looked up at Tango for a fraction of a second, then squeezed her eyes shut. “You went into Cheryl’s room,” she said accusingly, as though the act were one of deep sacrilege.

“You don’t think Cheryl is really dead, do you, . Atlanta?” Atlanta shook her head, starting to sob. Tango nodded to herself, then said quietly, “Get the photo albums, Miranda.”

“Why?”

“Because I think we’ve been going about this the wrong way. Someone is manipulating her.” She looked down at Atlanta with pity. The woman’s icy control had been a mask hiding her sad delusions. “We’re not going to be able to force her to tell us anything, but we might be able to make her remember.”

Miranda nodded and rose to fetch the photo albums. Atlanta sniffled and opened eyes that were already turning red. “Can I have a tissue?” she asked softly, wretchedly. “Please? In my purse?” Tango reached for the bag.

The leather writhed under her touch, as though the purse were alive. She snatched her hand away with a yelp. It only took her a second to recognize that the movement was just some kind of illusion, but it was a second of distraction.

Atlanta jerked her arm up and brought it around in a hard shove, sending the Kithain rocking backward. The same move brought her sliding out from under the smaller woman. “Miranda!” Tango barked sharply, grabbing at Atlanta’s legs. The blond woman kicked her in the jaw as she tried to scramble away, but Tango had her again. Atlanta twisted around, one arm coming back in a weak, desperate attempt at a blow. Tango reached to block it.

It wasn’t a blow. Atlanta had the canister of pepper spray in her hand. A stream of the fiery irritant splashed against Tango’s arm, then twitched to the side and hit her face and eyes.

The pain was excruciating, like choking on red-hot barbed wire. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t breathe. Instinct brought her hands up to scrub at her face, but her other muscles were convulsing uncontrollably. Atlanta kicked free of her. “Miranda!” Tango tried to yell again, but there was no air in her lungs. She tried to force herself beyond the pain, making her chest work and sucking oxygen down her tortured throat. It seemed almost impossible.

She felt, rather than heard, the vampire sweep past her, but the sound of bodies slamming against the door was unmistakable. Atlanta cried out; Miranda was hissing with seething rage. There was a struggle and then a loud, wet snap. Atlanta’s cries became muffled shrieks of pain. “Try anything else,” snarled Miranda savagely, “and I’ll break the other one.” Cloth tore and then Atlanta’s cries became even more muffled. Someone — clearly Atlanta —• fell heavily to the floor, probably pushed, squealing in pain at the impact. Hands helped Tango to her feet. Miranda. “Are you all right?”

“Stupid,” Tango gasped. Or tried to. The effort sent her into a spasm of gagging. She was fortunate Atlanta hadn’t had a gun. Tears ran down her burning cheeks as her eyes tried to flush away the vile spray. Every breath was a struggle. Miranda had to hold her upright. The vampire’s grip on her shifted suddenly and she was lifted up into the air. Miranda was carrying her somewhere. After a moment, she sat her down on the floor, propping her against something. Tango heard the loud hum of a fan, then water running. The kitchen. Miranda gently pulled her head backward.

“Easy,” she said. “I’ve got water. I’m going to flush your eyes.” A gentle trickle of coolness ran onto Tango’s upturned face. She tried to force her eyes wide to let the water run over them, but the swollen lids would hardly obey her. The water helped though, reducing the pain and making thinking a bit easier. She pushed Miranda away a little bit, and concentrated, summoning up a spark of Glamour. It was like putting cool ointment on bums. Tango let the Glamour spread through her, then fumbled for a chain she wore around her neck. Inside a tiny crystal vial, worn like a pendant on the necklace, was a little sprig of heather. She popped the vial free of its setting and tilted the heather into the palm of her hand. The instant the sprig was in contact with her skin, she worked a healing cantrip. The touch of the Glamour turned fiery hot for a moment, burning away the effects of the pepper spray. She still felt weak, sore and nauseated, but the worst was past.

“Air,” she croaked, and then, “Atlanta.”

“Which?” asked Miranda. “Don’t worry. Atlanta’s not going anywhere.”

“No. Fumes from the pepper spray. Check her.” Pepper spray wasn’t meant to be used indoors. The fumes might not bother Miranda’s undead body, but Atlanta.... She opened her eyes for a moment, but the light felt too bright and she closed them again.

Miranda disappeared, but a moment later, Tango heard her curse and heave Atlanta up. The blond woman was retching and gasping. A window slid open, letting fresh night air into the apartment. Tango heard Miranda’s tread, heavy under Atlanta’s weight, pass the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” Miranda called. “I’m taking her to the bedroom. The spray will be less strong there.” Tango drew another deep, painful breath and pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t want to wait for Miranda’s help. Her foot kicked a glass, the one Miranda had used to bathe her eyes, away across the floor. Eyes still closed, Tango felt for the sink, dropped her vial and the heather on the countertop, then groped around looking for any kind of soap. Her hand closed on a bottle of dishwashing liquid. Turning on the water, she poured soap in her hands and blindly washed the remains of the pepper spray from her face and arms.

“Tango?” Miranda came back into the kitchen. “What happened?”

“She was lying.” Tango awkwardly slipped the heather back into the vial and returned the vial to her necklace. One hand on the counter for support, she stumbled angrily toward the door from the kitchen into the hallway. “She might be crazy, but she still knows what she’s doing. She lied about Riley. She waited until I went soft, then made her move.”

Atlanta was curled up in a choking ball on the floor of Cheryl’s bedroom. There was a draft coming from the window in here as well. Tango put her hands under Atlanta’s arms and dragged her to her feet, shoving her toward the window and fresh air. Atlanta shrieked in pain and fell against the windowsill. “Careful,” Miranda warned Tango. “I broke her kneecap.”

Tango froze in the middle of her rage. “You broke her knee?”

“It could have been worse,” the vampire said defensively. “I thought you would want her alive.” “Thank you for that.” She saw a smudge of movement as Miranda turned away and felt bad. At least the vampire seemed ashamed of herself. It really could have been worse. She could have lost control completely, i’m sorry, Miranda. I mean it. Thank you.” Miranda shrugged and replied awkwardly, “I want to help you.”    .

Tango looked at the other woman for a moment, then murmured again, “Thank you. Now let’s see what we can find out before someone comes to see if something’s wrong.” She pulled Atlanta away from the window, easing her to the floor and crouching beside her. “What do you know about Riley, Atlanta?”

“Go to hell!” the blond woman wheezed. She struggled out of Tango’s grip to sit up on her own.

“I don’t care about what else you’ve done. I just...” Atlanta spat at her, or at least toward her. Her mouth still trembling from the effects of the pepper spray, all she managed to do was spray saliva into the air. Most of it landed on herself. Tango heard Miranda growl. The vampire reached between the two other women and grasped Atlanta’s uninjured knee lightly. Atlanta choked suddenly.

Miranda nodded. Atlanta knew what could happen if she didn’t cooperate. “Where did you get the charm bracelet, Atlanta?” The blond woman didn’t answer and Miranda tightened her grasp slightly. Not enough, Tango knew, to harm Atlanta again, but certainly enough to frighten her into submission.

“I made a deal with a man from Pentex!” she gasped. Tango almost jerked away. Miranda looked at her

questioningly. Tango shook her head — the vampire probably hadn’t heard of the malevolent corporation, and it would take longer than they had to explain it. She knew only a little bit about it herself. Enough to know that it dabbled in dark spirit magic, magic that might have created the enchantment she could feel on the charm bracelet. “Why?” she asked Atlanta softly.

“So I could have Cheryl back for a little while. Just for a little while.” She started to shake again, but this time her emotion was real, not feigned. She looked down at the floor, rubbing her hand across the powder blue of the rug. “But they always took her away from me and I would have to find her again. At least they told me where to find her.”

“Atlanta.” Tango tried to make her voice soothing. She had been at least partly right. Someone was using Atlanta. But if Pentex had Riley.... “Do you know why Pentex had you kidnap the people they did?”

Atlanta’s expression was abruptly cold again, as cold as if her deal with Pentex were nothing more than a business arrangement. “Of course not!” she snapped. “They didn’t trust me that much. I was just their courier. They told me where to go, whom to put the bracelet on. They took care of the details and then let me enjoy my illusions for a few days.”

“She is crazy,” muttered Miranda.

“Get fucked, leech!” Atlanta snarled. She slapped Miranda’s hand away.

Tango grabbed Atlanta’s wrists. “What happened to the people Pentex had you kidnap? What happened after...” Her mouth twisted in disgust. “What happened after you turned them into Cheryl?”

Atlanta groaned, her icy strength fading as suddenly as it had appeared. “Pentex took Cheryl away. That’s all I know. I never asked.”

“Who took her away? Who contacted you when they wanted someone else kidnapped?”

“Different men. Different almost every time.” Her head lolled back and she started to shake again.

Damn! “What about the last time?” Tango demanded. “What about the red-haired man in San Francisco? How did Pentex contact you?” She shook the other woman. “How did Pentex contact you, Atlanta?” “It wasn’t Pentex. Just a man. He tried to make me think it was Pentex, but it wasn’t.” Atlanta reached up and wiped at her swollen eyes. “After sixteen years, I know Pentex. The man used to work for Pentex — I remember him from before -— but this time was different.”

“How was it different, Atlanta?” They were close now, Tango could feel it.

Atlanta looked at the tears shining on her hand. “He tried to hire me. For money. And he wouldn’t let me keep Cheryl at all. He made me give her up right away. Pentex never did that. The man sent a limo to pick us up at the airport, and it took us to his house.” She glanced at Tango. “I know the address.”

Tango found herself holding her breath. “What is

it?”

“Do you think that Cheryl is still there?”

Her voice was desperate. The question made no sense; Atlanta should have known that Riley could no longer be Cheryl if the charm bracelet was here in her apartment. She was sliding deeper into madness under the pressure of the questioning. Tango hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally. She took Atlanta’s hands. “And we

want to get her for you.”

“I know the man’s name, too.”

“What is it? What’s the address?”

Atlanta’s gaze fixed on something gleaming against the blue of the carpet. “Is that Cheryl’s bracelet?” she asked dreamily.

Miranda snatched the charm bracelet up and passed it to Tango. Tango pressed it into Atlanta’s hands. “Tell us where she is,” she urged.

“The house is at the end of Hillock Street, overlooking a park.” She ran the gold chain and its little charms through her fingers. “The man’s name is Jubilee Arthurs.”

Tango pulled away sharply, so sharply that she lost her balance and fell backward with a thump. Miranda glanced at her. “I know him.” Tango’s lips knotted into a thin, ironic smile. “I know him, Miranda.”

“What? How?”

She waved her hand. “From a long, long time ago. He’s a mercenary — at least he was when I knew him. Atlanta,” she asked, turning back to the blond woman, “did Jubi—”

There was a blissful smile on Atlanta’s face. She was fastening the charm bracelet around her own wrist. Tango cursed, grabbing for it. She was a moment too late.

“Cheryl,” Atlanta whispered happily. Her body shifted, like a Kithain shifting between human and faerie seeming. Two forms in the same space. For a moment, Atlanta and Cheryl coexisted, radiant expressions lighting their faces. Then... “No!” they screamed in unison, Atlanta in horrified anguish, Cheryl in terrible fright. The child buried her face in her hands. The woman lashed out at something. And they vanished. The charm bracelet fell to the rug.

Tango and Miranda were silent for several minutes. Then Miranda reached out and touched the spot where the woman — and her daughter — had been, moments before. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Tango shook her head slowly. “Magic works in a lot of strange ways. I wouldn’t touch that bracelet.” Part of her felt sorry for Atlanta, but only a part. Pentex couldn’t have been kind to the people she had delivered to them using the charm bracelet. Atlanta’s end seemed fitting. And they had a good, solid lead on Riley now. Jubilee Arthurs. But not tonight. Tango’s stomach twisted. She didn’t think she could stand to see him tonight. Not after this. She stood up. “Miranda.”

“What?”

“Will you come with me to see Jubilee Arthurs tomorrow' night?” Miranda looked up, hesitating. Tango smiled. “Please? I could use your help.”

Miranda’s hesitancy lasted only a moment longer. “All right,” she agreed. She glanced back at the charm bracelet lying on the floor. “What’s Pentex?”

“I’ll tell you about it on the way home, or tomorrow night. For now... let’s just say that Atlanta made a deal with the devil.” Tango started toward the door. “Let’s

go-”

There was no response. She glanced back. Miranda was still staring at the charm bracelet, as though fascinated by the fate of its owner. Tango smiled again, softly. She remembered when she had first learned about all of the varieties of darkness that lurked in the world; the familiar strangeness of her life in Kithain society had suddenly seemed so insignificant. Miranda would be going through the same thing now. Tango went back over and drew the vampire to her feet. “Come on.”

* * *

Let’s just say that Atlanta made a deal with the devil. Tango’s words had been innocent, of course, but they struck a little too close to home. Her words, Atlanta’s eerie... disappearance? death? They reminded Miranda too much of her own deal with Solomon, and through him with Shaftiel. She had always thought that she had nothing to worry about. She was one of the High Circle, the chosen few. She had made a pact, power in exchange for service. There was nothing for her to be frightened of. She was strong. She was in control. She was a vampire, the ultimate predator, beyond human morality, beyond good and evil, beyond weakness.

Just keep telling yourself that, something small inside her said, and maybe what happened to Atlanta will never happen to you.

“Should we have tried to wipe off our fingerprints?” she asked belatedly as Tango shut the apartment door behind them. Usually the Sabbat didn’t worry about trivial matters like fingerprints. What could humans do to them?

“No. There’s too much other evidence that people were in the apartment.” Tango locked the door with keys taken from Atlanta’s purse, then stuffed the keys back under the door. “Between what we did tonight and the pictures in Atlanta’s photo albums, an investigator is going to go nuts on this case. I’m not even sure how long it will be before someone comes looking for

Atlanta. She didn’t strike me as the type to have many friends. Who knows — Pentex might be the next ones to discover her absence, and I doubt if they’ll go to the police.”

Miranda was silent as they rode the elevator down to the lobby and walked away from the building. She was silent the whole way back downtown as well, letting Tango ramble on about Pentex without really listening to what she was saying. Her mind was still back in the apartment with Atlanta’s bracelet and the lingering smell of pepper spray. If she only knew what exactly had happened to the woman, she might feel better. But Atlanta was simply gone. Would that be what happened to her someday? Miranda clenched her hands around the rim of the steering wheel.

They pulled up in front of Riley’s apartment building. “Ten o’clock?” Tango asked.

“What?” Miranda blinked. “Sorry? Ten o’clock what?”

“Pick me up tomorrow night at ten. We’ll stake out jubilee’s house. Is that all right?”

Tomorrow night. Miranda had almost forgotten about that. What was she going to tell the pack this time? More importantly, how was she going to juggle both Tango’s stakeout and Solomon’s planned penny murder? When she had agreed to accompany Tango, she had been expecting a meeting partway through the night — like tonight. But a stakeout could take all night. She opened her mouth, ready to make some excuse that would release her from the agreement.

No excuse came out. Instead, she looked at Tango, the changeling’s face still puffy and red from Atlanta’s pepper spray. “Ten o’clock is fine,” she said.

“I’ll see you then. Wear something dark.” Tango looked her over and grinned. “Although I don’t think that will be a problem for you.” She opened the door and started to get out of the car, then paused. “Thanks for coming tonight, Miranda.”

“It’s okay.”

“No. Really. If you hadn’t been there, Atlanta would have gotten away — or maybe killed me. I wouldn’t have found out anything about Riley.” She leaned over and pulled Miranda into a hug. “Thanks. I owe you.” “Don’t worry about it.” Miranda surprised herself with the words, but she meant them. “Really.”

Tango pulled away. “Since when did you stop keeping a balance sheet of favors owed?”

“I can do things just because I want to, can’t I?” Tango smiled at her. “Thank you again.” She got out of the car. “Ten o’clock.”

“Ten o’clock.” Tango shut the door and Miranda pulled back out onto the street, watching in the rearview mirror while Tango walked into the apartment building. Then she slammed her hands against the steering wheel.

What the hell was she doing? Sabbat vampires weren’t supposed to make friends outside of the Sabbat! Miranda sighed in angry frustration. Of course, they weren’t supposed to get involved with demon cults either, and that hadn’t stopped her. So why was her growing friendship with Tango bothering her?

The car seemed twice as quiet now without the changeling’s voice to fill the silence. Miranda switched on the radio, but the music just seemed inane. She turned it off again and rolled down the window, driving home to the sounds of the city. Toronto was quiet at night, but it was still louder than the emptiness in the car.

The pack lived in a house just a little bit south of Toronto’s “Little India” district. They had simply moved in one night, killing off the back-to-nature refugees from the sixties who had lived there. The neighbors hadn’t said a thing and continued very wisely to leave the vampires alone — with the exception of one old immigrant Indian woman who lived next door and made signs against evil whenever she saw one of them. Her family always hustled her hastily away. They thought that she was going senile. Miranda knew that Tolly was toying with the woman’s mind. Miranda parked her car, ignored the old woman even now peering sleeplessly down from her window, and went inside.

Matt and Blue were watching a movie stolen from a video store, the sound turned up so loud that it echoed through the house. The pack had quite a collection of pilfered movies, mostly a mix of gory horror and adolescent comedy, selections chosen by Tolly and Blue. Matt preferred more sophisticated psychological thrillers, but he didn’t turn up his nose at slasher movies either. The vampires had a tendency to critique the villains’ technique. Humans yelled at the victims on the screen, berating them for going off alone or hiding where the villains could trap them; Matt, Blue and Tolly yelled at the villains, telling them where the victims were hiding or how best to torture the ones that they inevitably caught.

“Ooo,” groaned Matt as fake blood splattered walls on the television screen. “No! Never with a power saw!”

Miranda grabbed the remote , from the cushions of the couch and reduced the volume of the television to a level that she could talk over without screaming. “Where’s Tolly?”

“Upstairs.” Blue pointed overhead. Matt glanced at her, sniffing.

“You smell like you fell into a vat of salsa or something. Feeding go well tonight?” he asked sarcastically.

The smell of pepper spray lingering on her clothes was hardly the smell of salsa. Miranda gave Matt an impassive, unamused glare. “No,” she said curtly, “feeding did not go well.”

He shrugged and turned back to the movie. “Should have gone out with us. Blue and Tolly did Portuguese. I just watched, of course.” He glanced up again brightly. “I don’t suppose you’d want to drive me over to the university for a late night frat snack?”

“No.” Miranda hesitated, then added, “You’re on your own tomorrow night, too.” Now was as good a time to make her excuses as any.

Her announcement brought both Matt’s and Blue’s eyes to her. “Again?” Blue inquired suspiciously.

“Yes — again.”

The two vampires on the couch looked at each other, then back at her. “You’ve been doing that an awful lot lately,” observed Matt.

Miranda stared back at him coolly, imperiously. “Maybe I have. And if I have, it’s no business of yours, is it?”

“If it would affect the pack, it’s all of our business.” His eyes narrowed. “Is it that woman you picked up in Hopeful the other night? We haven’t seen much of you since....”

“No.” Miranda made her tone strong, but not too quick. A flat denial, not an invitation to query her some more. “Who I’m feeding from is none of your concern. Understood?” Matt gave her a sullen look. A little too sullen. Her arm lashed forward, grabbing Matt’s hair and yanking his head back. Her fangs could have been in his throat. “Understood?” she hissed.

“Understood,” Matt spat. Miranda glanced at Blue. The big vampire hadn’t moved, but he nodded.

“Good.” She let Matt go.

He rubbed at the back of his head. “What about the penny murder?” he asked sourly. “Or had you forgotten that?”

“I didn’t forget.” Miranda turned to go upstairs. “I just can’t make it. You know the drill though, same as the other times. Do it yourself.”

Matt’s eyes came to life. “You mean it? Who’s the target?”

Solomon’s instructions were to kill a couple tomorrow night, destroying people’s belief that they could be safe as long as they weren’t alone. “A couple,” she repeated for Matt and Blue, although she didn’t tell them the reason for Solomon’s choice. They didn’t need to know that. She chose a location arbitrarily. “Take them from Yonge Street. And not too late.” There were a fair number of people on Yonge Street until quite late at night. If the pack snatched their victims from a busy street, it would frighten people even more.

“All right!” Blue gave her a bloodthirsty grin, fangs shining in the flickering light of the television set.

The sight of those fangs in Blue’s big, square, police' officer face sent a sudden chill across Miranda’s back. She’d seen them almost every night for years, but suddenly... their inhuman presence suddenly disturbed her. She climbed up the stairs and out of sight before she permitted herself to grimace. Was that what -she looked like to Tango? She walked down the hallway to the bedroom she had claimed.

Tolly was in her room. Trying on her clothes.

She glared at him silently. Tolly didn’t even have the wit to look embarrassed. Grinning maniacally, he mimicked her, not just in posture and expression, but also in form, his frame shifting in height and shape to match hers. It was like staring into a demented funhouse mirror. Clothing had been pulled out of the closet and thrown across the bed in a heap. The mad vampire had found makeup somewhere and smeared it across his face. Miranda stalked into the room. Tolly stalked forward to meet her, an identical scowl on his face. “Tolly...” she said warningly.

He said the word at almost exactly the same time, then grinned. His tongue was still pierced, but at least now it was with a smaller barbell that permitted him to talk normally. “Whoops,” he added, “forgot something.” His chest filled out abruptly, a sharp and bony imitation of Miranda’s breasts.

Miranda kicked him sharply in the balls.

Tolly’s eyes rolled back and his body folded up. “Ow,” he squeaked.

“Strip,” Miranda ordered him. She grabbed his ear. “Strip, or you’re going to have to grow back body parts.” “Okay! Sheesh.” Tolly began to pull off the clothes. “A guy can’t have a bit of fun?”

“You want fun, go watch movies with Matt and Blue.” She choked and pinched Tolly’s ear until he yelped. He was wearing a pair of her panties. Hastily, he slipped them off. Miranda dragged him to the door. His ear stretched in her grasp. She ignored his tricks and shoved him out. “I don’t ever want you in here again!”

She slammed the door in his face and turned to survey the room, furious with Tolly for disturbing her things. Furious with Matt for challenging her. Furious with Blue for no particular reason. She snatched up the clothes that Tolly had been wearing and hurled them at the closet. Something fluttered to the ground as the clothes flew. The piece of paper Tango had given her with her address.

Miranda stared at it for a moment. The pants Tolly had been wearing were the pants she had worn yesterday. That paper had been in the pocket of the pants. Except then it had been folded up. It was unfolded now, and it wouldn’t have fallen out of the pocket on its own.

Tolly had seen Tango’s address. What would he make of it? Maybe nothing. After all, it was only an address. From downstairs, she head Matt and Blue roar in laughter, either in response to something in the movie or in response to Tolly’s abrupt, naked appearance. At least she hoped they were laughing at one of those two things. Miranda snatched up the paper and tore it into tiny bits. She opened the window and threw the fragments out into the night, watching them spiral to the ground. A movement in a window of the house next door drew her attention — the old Indian woman was watching her. Their eyes met.

The old woman brought up a crude, homemade protective symbol and shook it at her fiercely. Miranda pulled her drapes shut and turned away.

CHAPTERTEN

Tender Lizzie could not bear To watch her sister’s cankerous care

Hillock, it turned out, was a short dead-end street in Scarborough, the easternmost part of Metro Toronto. The houses in the neighborhood were modest, singlefamily homes built in the seventies. The shrubs around them were heavy and mature, the lawns old and patchy. The plastic siding on many of the houses was tired from years of built-up grime. Drapes and blinds were tightly closed over lighted windows. No one was out; the only other vehicle on the sidestreets was a pizza-delivery car. Miranda turned onto Hillock.

The headlights of her car flashed against the windows of the house at the end of the street almost instantly. Hillock seemed even quieter than the streets around it. Jubilee Arthurs’ house seemed even more tired than the other houses. The siding was a grubby white, the roof a faded blue dotted with the black of missing shingles. Tall old trees behind the house intimidated it into submission.

There were lights on in the house and a nondescript, battered beige car was parked in the driveway. Tango whistled. “Jubilee’s standard of living has come down since I knew him.” She pointed across the street to another driveway. “Pull in there, then back out and turn around.”

“I could just do a U-turn at the end of the street.” Miranda had picked the changeling up promptly at ten o’clock. Both of them had already located Hillock on maps of the city, so there had been no need to waste time figuring out where they were going. They had come straight out.

Tango shook her head. “I don’t want to get that close.” Miranda shrugged and obeyed her, pulling into the other driveway. Tango caught her arm briefly. “Go fairly slow. I want a chance to get a good look at Jubilee’s house.”

Miranda executed the turn as slowly as she could without making it seem unnatural. “Got your look?”

“Yes. Let’s find someplace to park. Away from Hillock.”

Last night they had parked away from Atlanta Hunter’s apartment building so the car wouldn’t be associated with any reports of breaking and entering (or, now, of Atlanta’s disappearance). Tonight they parked away from Hillock Street and Jubilee Arthur’s house simply because there was nowhere on Hillock to park. Jubilee had apparently chosen his location shrewdly and deliberately. The street was so quiet that any strange parked car, especially one with people sitting inside, would be instantly recognizable as out of place. The house also commanded a view of the street’s entire abbreviated length. Between that view and the positioning of the surrounding houses, it would have been difficult for even a person on foot to approach the house unseen.

They managed it, however. They parked a block away and Tango led Miranda through back yards •— over fences and hedges — to the house next door to Arthurs’. They ended up crouched behind thin bushes growing alongside the rusty chainlink fence around Arthurs’ yard. Two floodlights lit the patchy grass inside the fence. No one would be able to lurk there without being spotted. “What now?” Miranda asked Tango.

The changeling was silent for a moment. “If they’ve lit the back yard,” she wondered aloud, “why are the sides of the house still dark?”

“So the neighbors don’t complain?” The houses on either side of Arthurs’ were set at an angle around the end of Hillock Street. The back yard lights wouldn’t bother them; side lights would shine into their windows.

Tango snickered shortly, then pointed toward the dark eaves of Arthurs’ house. “You can see in the dark, right? Are there any lights up there that are turned off right now?”

Miranda looked. “Yes. Another pair of floodlights.” “They’re probably on motion sensors. If anyone tries to sneak up, the lights will come on. There’s probably another pair on the other side.” She bit her lip, thinking. “I want a place where we can watch the front of Jubilee’s house without being seen.”

Miranda glanced toward the front of Arthurs’ house, then across to the front corner of the house they were hiding beside. It was dark — no one was home. She slipped back to the wall of the house and around to the very front. She gestured for Tango to join her. “What about here?” she whispered as the changeling came over. Because of the angle of the house, they had a good view of Arthurs’ front door and window. Shrubs would provide a basic screen. But Tango wrinkled her nose and waved at the street.

“Anyone driving up the street would see us. What if these people come home? And all Arthurs has to do is look out of his window at the right angle and he’s got a pretty good chance at spotting us, too.”

“No, no, and no. Not if we’re careful.” Shadows shifted at Miranda’s unspoken command, enhancing the concealing darkness of the bushes and adding depth to the women’s hiding place. It wasn’t as effective as Tolly’s ability to simply disappear, but it would work. She smiled at Tango. The changeling nodded.

“Good enough.” Tango settled down into the shadows. “Now we wait. I want to watch and try to get some idea of who is in that house before we go in.” She hesitated, then added, “One last thing. Try not to think too much about Jubilee. He’ll know something is up.” “What?” Miranda blinked in surprise. “How?” Tango gestured for her to keep her voice down. “He’s got... well, let’s say ‘gifts’ is a good way to describe them. I’m not sure whether it’s natural or if he acquired the talent somewhere, but Jubilee is'a low-grade psychic. Not enough to be able to read your mind, but enough to give him an edge as a mercenary. One thing he does really well is know when somebody nearby is focusing their attention on him. Sort of like a sixth sense.”

“So why didn’t you tell me about this before?” “Because it’s harder not to think about somebody if you know you’re not supposed to be thinking about them. But if you didn’t know, you would have thought of him for sure. As long as we were moving, you wouldn’t have had time. If we’re going to be in one spot with nothing to do for a while, though....” Tango shrugged. “I figured this would be as good a time to mention it as any.”

“Last night you said you knew him.” Miranda looked at the changeling in the darkness. “How?”

Tango sighed. “I met him about twenty-eight years ago. At a survival camp in northern Idaho — one of those Cold War things where a bunch of wannabe soldiers got together and learned how to survive a nuclear attack and a Soviet invasion. Arthurs had been hired as one of the instructors.”

“What were you doing there?”

“A bunch of Kithain had gotten together and decided to give these guys the scare of their lives. A Soviet strike force was going to hit their camp. We all thought that it would be pretty funny.” Tango frowned. “I was posing as an instructor, too, a specialist in hand-to-hand combat. I looked about eighteen then, so I made up some story about how my parents had been good American missionaries killed in some communist Third World country, and how I was raised by my exMarine grandfather in Texas after they died.” Miranda gave her a critical look. Tango nodded. “Dumb. But they bought it and started to respect me, especially after I dusted a couple of big teamsters from New Jersey. Everyone treated me like an adopted daughter — except for Jubilee. He didn’t believe the story for a second, especially since he had some idea about what the world was really like and why a young woman might be a lot stronger than she looked. I managed to convince him that I wanted to be a mercenary, and he sort of took me under his wing. So to speak.”

Miranda’s eyebrows rose. “You had an affair?”

Tango shifted. “He taught me... things. It wasn’t just an affair.”

“What happened?” Miranda asked curiously, both fascinated and repulsed by the idea that Tango had had a relationship with the man they were stalking.

“The Kithain attacked the camp. We went our separate ways. By the way, don’t call me by name around him.”

“Why?”

“I changed my name a few years after we met. He knows another one.” The words were bitter and she turned away to watch Arthurs’ house. “That’s enough about Jubilee. Don’t think about him anymore if you can. It helps to talk about something else, or sing songs in your head. I like ‘Good King Wenceslas.’”

Miranda grimaced. She had dredged up something that Tango didn’t want to remember. She tried the changeling’s trick, concentrating on the lyrics of “Good King Wenceslas.” She still kept one eye on Tango, but the other woman just watched Arthurs’ house impassively. After Good King Wenceslas had looked out on the Feast of Stephen three or four times, Miranda switched over to “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” For a while, she actually managed to lose herself in the song, forgetting not only Jubilee Arthurs, but also Tango’s silence. Christmas carols were out of place on a warm summer night, though. Sometime in the middle of the tenth day of Christmas, her mind began to wander.

The rest of the pack would be out hunting by now, probably over to the university first so that Matt could indulge himself, then somewhere less fussy for Blue and

Tolly. After they had all fed, they would go to Yonge Street and find the victims for Solomon’s next murder. Part of Miranda, the wild side that the Sabbat’s Creation Rites had awoken, wanted to be with them. Running the streets. Hunting in the city’s neon glow'. Drinking rich, hot blood from the veins of a struggling... “Miranda!” Tango hissed. “You’re growling.” Miranda drew herself relentlessly back to the shadows on Hillock Street. “Sorry.” She felt her mouth. Her fangs had descended while she had been lost in her hungry reverie. Miranda almost cursed. It was one thing not to think about Jubilee Arthurs, and another to sink into her vampire instincts. “Sorry,” she said again, “I haven’t fed tonight.” She felt awkward mentioning feeding around Miranda. It was like discussing sex with an angel. “Maybe we could talk?”

Tango turned back to Arthurs’ house. “You know there was another penny murder last night?” she asked over her shoulder.

Miranda’s mouth went dry. This was the last subject she wanted to talk to Tango about! “Really?” she replied as calmly as she could. “Another hooker? Another gay?” “A woman out walking her dog. Older woman — the news tonight said her first grandchild had just been born a couple of days ago.” Tango’s voice was tight with anger. “Apparently the police had to throw out all of the theories they were working on. They’re trying to find a connection between the killings, some kind of pattern.”

Maximum terror, Miranda thought to herself. That’s all. There is no real pattern. She hadn’t known about the woman’s grandchild. She wished that she didn’t now. “What are the police doing?” she asked quickly. “Do

they have any suspects?”

“None that they’re talking about. They’ve formed a task force, but people want more. There was another protest outside police headquarters today. People say the police have descriptions of the suspects but deliberately aren’t releasing the information.”

Solomon had said that she wasn’t the only Bandog working on the penny murders. She knew that there had been no witnesses to see the pack at work. Any rumored descriptions could only be false, spread by Bandog among the media or the protesters — or the police themselves. “Who are people blaming the murders on?”

“It depends who you ask.” Tango gestured without taking her eyes off the house. “They had a montage on the news. Street gangs and drug addicts are popular. A few people are still clinging to some sort of sex-based theory. White supremacists and neo-nazis. Somebody came up with the suggestion of a devil-worshipping cult.” That suggestion made Miranda jerk, but Tango, intent on Arthurs’ house, didn’t notice. “Everybody is scared, everybody is angry. They don’t know why this is happening. They don’t understand it.”

“I don’t,” Miranda agreed.

Tango glanced back at her suddenly. “Really? I was going to ask you what you thought of it all.”

Miranda kept her face still. Oh, shit. Had Tango guessed? “Why?”

“You’re Sabbat. Aren’t you supposed to be the ultimate evil?”

She hadn’t guessed! Miranda felt like cheering, but she held her voice. “Vampires hunt because we have to if we want to survive,” she said, trying to keep her answer short and incontestable. She wanted this conversation to end as quickly as possible. Preferably without Tango finding out about her role in the murders.

“But why do you kill? Why does the Sabbat take such delight in destroying humans?”

Miranda fumbled for a reply. “It’s an expression of our freedom,” she said finally, falling back on the propaganda that the Sabbat fed to every new vampire it recruited. “The Camarilla forces its vampires to be discreet, to hide from humans. But vampires shouldn’t fear humans. We’re better than them. Fear and death are our weapons. We are no longer human; we shouldn’t try to act as humans.”

The words sounded as hollow to her as they must have sounded to Tango. The changeling was expressionless. Miranda faced her in silence. Finally, she looked down at the ground. “Vampires kill because sometimes we lose control of the beast inside us. The Sabbat recognizes what the Camarilla won’t: that we can gain power from letting the Beast loose. But most Sabbat vampires kill because sometimes it’s just easier to let the Beast go.”

“What do you think, Miranda?” asked Tango softly.

What did she think? Three days ago, she had been content to serve Solomon and the Bandog, willing to venture into territory that even the Sabbat viewed with fear and loathing. Something had changed since she’d met Tango. She had begun by trying to hide the changeling from the pack and from Solomon, but now she was hiding her own activities from Tango. She was feeling a discomfort that she hadn’t felt in years. Was she really questioning her own morality, or just trying to give Tango the answers that she wanted to hear? Why? Why to either possibility? “I think,” she said, “that it can be very hard to take control of the Beast and accept it as a part of ourselves.” She looked up. Tango was watching her very' closely.

“There are changelings I’d like to hear say that,” she said. “What about the penny murders?”

Suddenly the words were in Miranda’s mouth, ready to be spoken. I killed them, Tango. I was told to kill them, and I went out, and I did it. For power. In service to an evil beyond the Beast, an evil that isn’t part of me. But Shaftiel wasn’t the one who had beaten a new grandmother to death last night, was he?

It was one thing to talk about accepting actions, and another thing to do it. What would Tango say? What would she do? Miranda liked the changeling. She didn’t want to drive her away. Better to let the Bandog remain a gnawing secret than an open wound. Her stomach as low as a shamed, slinky dog, Miranda said solemnly, “Humans have beasts, too. Who knows what their beasts can drive them to do, or why?”

* * *

The sound of a door opening and closing brought Tango’s head up instantly, tearing her away from Miranda’s words. Jubilee’s house. But the front door was still shut. “Back door!” she hissed at Miranda. “Can you hide me while I move?” The vampire nodded. Tango rose and slipped around to where she could see the back of Jubilee’s house. Shadows slipped with her. Miranda followed close behind. A big man had come out of Jubilee’s back door and was having a quiet smoke under the floodlights. He looked alert. When something flapped suddenly out of the trees, his eyes sought and found it. Tango didn’t miss the twitch that his hand made toward the handgun tucked into the back of his waistband. She bit her lips, thinking quickly. She wanted to find out what was going on inside the house. Now was her chance. “How far away can you manipulate shadows, Miranda? Can you make them move on the far side of the yard?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Use them to get the big guy’s attention. Follow as soon as I’ve got him down.” Tango called up her knife and tried to guess at the end-range of the motion sensors on the lights at the side of the house. She chose her route. At the last moment, she spit twice on the grassy earth, summoning her strength. “Do it.”

Shadows shifted suddenly in the darkness beyond the house, as though someone were moving furtively behind the bushes next door. The big man looked up. The shadows shifted again. This time his cigarette dropped to the ground and his gun came out.

Tango was already over the rusting fence and into Jubilee’s back yard before the weapon had cleared the man’s waistband. By the time he had registered her charge, she was hurling herself at his back, knocking him forward with her weight. He slammed into the ground. Tango grabbed the gun away before it could fire. The point of her knife came to rest just below the base of the big man’s skull, his first gasp for breath sending it pricking into his skin. He was a smart boy — he knew what that pricking meant. One sudden word or movement and he could be paralyzed, maybe dead. No one moved in the dark windows that faced the back

yard. No one would rescue him.

“Who’s inside?” Tango hissed quickly as Miranda came across the fence. “Any traps? Security?” She pushed down lightly on the knife as a reminder to talk quickly and truthfully.

“James. Big guy like me. Living room. Jubilee. Thin guy. Front bedroom. No security inside.”

Tango found that hard to believe. It certainly wasn’t like Jubilee. But the man under her was sweating nervously. He was telling the truth. She looked up at Miranda. “Can you make him forget us?”

“It would take too long.” The vampire crouched in front of the man, motioned for Tango to get off, then quickly rolled him over and locked her eyes on his. “Sleep,” she ordered sharply.

The man’s eyes slid shut. He went limp. Not a perfect solution, but one that would keep him out of their way. Tango dropped his gun beside him and grabbed at his pockets, looking for keys. She found them, a few keys on a plain ring. Stepping up to the door, she chose the one that looked most likely to fit the lock. “All right,” she murmured to Miranda. “Once we’re inside, be ready for anything. You go to the living room and take out the other big guy. Do it fast. I’ll get Arthurs.” She tested the door carefully. It was already unlocked. With a fast glance at Miranda, she threw it open and surged smoothly inside.

Half a flight of stairs up to the kitchen — empty except for cold Chinese takeout on a worn dinette set. Miranda went straight on through into an unfurnished room, then paused. The blue glow and tinny sound of an old television came from around a comer.

Tango left the vampire behind. She was already moving down a short hallway, flat against the wall, low to the ground. A closet on the left. Two doors on the right, dark. The front bedroom would be the door on the left at the end of the hall. It was open. Light was pouring out, but the light from the kitchen was behind her. She cursed silently. Her shadow would fall across the doorway. If jubilee was waiting, he would see it. Tango returned her knife to its ring form, gathering herself a few feet from the doorway, tensing. Her shadow was clear ahead of her, bigger than life.

She leaped forward, diving low across the floor and rolling through the doorway.

A tremendous, echoing gunshot split the air over her, right where a tall person’s chest would have been. She came to her feet, knife back in her hand. She lunged forward without really looking at the man she was grabbing, seeing only the smoking revolver in his hand as it tracked her. She slashed out at his belly with the knife, forcing him to weave back. Her other hand grabbed the arm holding the gun. She shoved it upward, away from her, and squeezed. The man shrieked in agony as bones grated against each other. His finger slipped from the trigger and the gun, already half-cocked, went off with a second roar and a flare of bilious green fire. Big chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling. Some of them came down on Tango. Her opponent used the moment to grab her knife hand and attempt to kick her in the stomach. Tango twisted to the side, pulling him with her, then ducked and let him slide right over her shoulders. His gun dropped out of his grasp. Tango was behind him now, pulling his arm up behind his back sharply and shoving him down onto his knees.

“Don’t make this difficult for me, jubilee!” she

whispered in his ear.

The man stiffened. “Shiv?”

The name sent a cold shiver across her skin. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken it. “Good guess.” There was a mirror on a cheap, old dresser against the far wall of the room. Tango twisted Jubilee around to face it so that he could see her reflection — and so that she could get a good look at his. She wasn’t sure who gasped first, her or him.

Tango supposed that she shouldn’t have been surprised. Jubilee was no Kithain. He was only human, and humans aged. But Atlanta had said that he had been working for Pentex, and Tango knew that the malevolent corporation had ways of extending the youth of its favored employees. She had assumed that Jubilee would have worked his way onto that exclusive list. But apparently he hadn’t. Every one of the twenty-eight years since she had last seen him showed in his face and body. His skin seemed thin, his hatchet-face like a blade that had been sharpened too many times. The pallor of his face as he stared at her still-youthful reflection didn’t enhance his appearance either. He was wearing only an undershirt and his pants; a shirt was hung over a chair back, just taken off in preparation for sleep.

Miranda appeared in the doorway before either of them could say anything more. The vampire’s eyes were bright, and her fangs were fully extended. Long talons sprang from her fingers. There was blood smeared across her face. Tango didn’t think she wanted to know what kind of fight the man in the living room had put up, or what condition he was in now. “T—” Tango frowned at her and she choked off the name. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Tango looked up at the hole that jubilee’s revolver had blown in the ceiling, then down at the gun as it lay on the floor. “Nice toy,” she commented to him. “Gift from Pentex?”

“How did you know?”

No pleasantries. No “It’s been a long time, how are you?” from either of them. Tango hadn’t really expected any small talk, though. “We paid a visit to Atlanta Hunter last night. She said you had been working for them until recently.”

“She was right.” jubilee’s eyes narrcwed. Tango knew he was no fool. She had spoken to Atlanta Hunter and then come looking for him. He could work out why. “This is about a changeling named Riley, isn’t it? Some friend of yours.” Tango nodded grimly. Jubilee grimaced. “So. I thought I had taken care of everything. How did you make the connection? The phone call he made?” Jubilee gestured with his head toward the door of his bedroom. Tango noticed for the first time that the lock and frame were shattered, as though the door had been kicked open. “I tried to redial, but he had managed to clear the circuits with another number. All I got was a pizza delivery service.”

“He called....” His apartment and left a message. Tango almost said the words, but she stopped herself. If she told Jubilee that, he would know where she was staying. And one of the lessons that he had taught her himself was that you didn’t give your opponents any advantage. “1 was supposed to be flying with him. Then I got his message here in Toronto. Atlanta sat her ‘daughter’ next to me on the plane. I put the voices together, got the passenger list from the airline and found Atlanta.” Jubilee gritted his teeth. “How did you

delete Riley from the passenger list?”

“The same way I had him smuggled back. I hired someone. A computer jockey to manipulate the airline’s ticket system. I might not work for Pentex anymore, but I still have my contacts.” He grimaced. “Could you let me stand up?”

“No.” She almost shuddered at how easily the old callousness came back to her.

He twisted his head around to look up at her. “Shiv, I think you’ve noticed that I’m not as young as I used to be. You might not have gotten too old, but I have. I can’t kneel like this for very long. My knees have gotten bad.”

Tango was aware of Miranda standing next to her. A vampire and a changeling against one unarmed man. One old unarmed man. She reached out with her foot and kicked Jubilee’s revolver under the bed, then lifted him to his feet. His knees popped as he stood. “Thank you,” he said gratefully.

Miranda’s eyebrows rode high on her forehead. “This has to be the most civil interrogation I’ve ever seen.” “Jubilee and I just speak the same language, that’s all. I know what he’s capable of. He knows what I’m capable of.” At least, Tango thought, I hope he does. It had been a long time for both of them — she was reminded of that every time she looked at Jubilee. Maybe it had been too long. She smiled, a wide, sinister grin that exposed her teeth, and met Jubilee’s gaze in the mirror. “An interrogation would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?”

A fine sheen of sweat broke out on Jubilee’s forehead. He did remember, although that didn’t make her feel any better. His voice was still steady, however, as though absolutely nothing was wrong. “It would. What do you want to know, Shiv? I’m sure we can discuss this rationally.”

There was just the faintest hint of fear and loathing in his words. Oh, he did remember. Tango flushed, glancing at Miranda to see if she had noticed. Their eyes met. Tango managed to turn her glance into a wink instead of looking away. Miranda smiled back, her face still bloody, although her fangs had retracted now. She began to look around the room. Tango gave a silent sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Jubilee. “Where’s Riley?”

“I don’t know.”

Tango’s jaw tightened. So did her grasp on Jubilee’s arm. “I don’t believe you.”

“You should.” Jubilee’s voice hissed painfully from between his teeth. “I was told where to take him. When I got him there, I handed him over to the person who hired me. I was hired, Shiv, just like I hired Atlanta.” “So who hired you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“What do you mean can’t?” Tango bent his arm a little more sharply, putting Jubilee’s shoulder at an angle so extreme that just a little more force could dislocate his arm.

Jubilee’s eyes grew wide suddenly and his face went pale. “Shiv!”

“Don’t make me go against what I just told my friend. I don’t want to have to interrogate you. I don’t think you want me to either.” She eased up a bit on Jubilee’s shoulder. “Who hired you, why did they want Riley, and where did you take him?” Jubilee was silent. Tango’s guts twisted. Was the man going to answer her or not? She meant what she said. She didn’t want to interrogate him. She really didn’t want to. She couldn’t, in fact. If Jubilee realized that, he could call her bluff. She blustered onward. “I notice your choice of living quarters has come down a bit. Slipping, Jubilee? What happened? Who would hire a has-been mercenary?” Jubilee let out a long, slow breath and went limp, giving up the illusion of physical resistance. His arm suddenly seemed like a stick of wood in Tango’s grasp. “What happened? I got old. I made mistakes. I’m still alive, which probably counts for something. Do you remember back in Idaho — one of the first lessons I taught you about being a mercenary?”

She flushed a bit and forced herself not to look at Miranda. She hadn’t wanted the other woman to know that those were the kinds of lesson Jubilee had given her. “Yes.” Part of her did remember that time, and fondly. She didn’t relent, however. “You said that the past is the past.”

“I also told you that employers don’t just pay for skills. A mercenary’s reputation comes from reliability and honor. Always do what you’re paid to do. If you can’t, you should give back the money.”

“Is that why you’re living in a place like this? You had to give refunds one too many times?” She was being deliberately unkind. She knew the importance that Jubilee had placed on his reputation twenty-eight years ago, and she didn’t imagine he had changed that much since.

Jubilee’s head came up again, looking into the mirror. “Partly,” he said. His face was struggling for calm. He was afraid, and only Tango knew he had no reason to be. Her own heart was sinking. She knew what he was going to say next. “My employer wants his name and purposes kept a secret, and he paid for that. I can’t tell you who he is or why he kidnapped your friend.”

Desperation descended on her like famine. Suddenly they were both struggling to control their emotions, Jubilee trying to give the impression that he wasn’t afraid, Tango trying to create the illusion that he should be. “How much did he pay you?” she asked casually. Duke Michael’s enchanted charge card was in her pocket. She hoped it was as limitless as it appeared to be. “I can top it.”

“I’m not getting paid in money this time.” Jubilee was defiant. For the first time, he twisted his head around to look at her out of the corner of his own eyes instead of in the mirror. “You can interrogate me if you like, but as you said, you know what I’m capable of.”

Tango just stared back at him. Desperate. Frustrated. “Damn you.” She started to let his arm drop.

Another pair of hands grabbed hers. Miranda took Jubilee away from her. “Let me try.” Her fangs were exposed again and she was licking at the dried blood on her lips. She stroked one talon under Jubilee’s stubborn chin, provoking an instinctive tremor. The act was a little overdone, but it was effective. Open fright was showing through on Jubilee’s face. “I think I can make him talk whether he wants to or not.”

The mad laughter of relief almost bubbled out of Tango’s throat. Yes! Oh, yes! Miranda could do it! She doubted that even Jubilee’s principles could stand up to the vampire’s will, and, unlike Atlanta, there wasn’t even the faintest hint of madness around him. Tango released her hold on Jubilee, pushing him into

Miranda’s arms. “It won’t be easy,” she cautioned her.

“Even better.” Miranda turned Jubilee around, her undead strength defying resistance. The shadows falling across her face turned her eyes into dark, consuming hollows. Jubilee kept his eyes fixed on her mouth. He knew what he was dealing with.

Tango reached up and pulled her old lover’s head back, tilting his face up, just as she had seen Miranda tilt Atlanta’s face. Jubilee’s gaze met Miranda’s.

The vampire’s eyes went wide. She froze. Tango’s breath caught in her throat. “Miranda?”

* * *

Shiv asked you something, murmured Arthurs in her mind. You should reply before she gets suspicious.

Miranda forced her throat to work. “He’s tough,” she said. She had the vague impression of the changeling nodding and saying something about pulling away if she had to. She nodded abstractly, not taking her eyes away from Arthurs’. When she had pushed her will against his, she had been expecting to encounter a frightened mind. She hadn’t. Arthurs had been putting on as much of a show' as she had.

Which isn’t to say that I’m not grateful to find an ally, he commented. Shiv is very afraid that she may have to hurt me. She won’t do it, but she does have several advantages over me. If I were to try and escape on my own, she could catch me easily. Miranda had the eerie impression that someone was walking around her mind, examining it from all sides. The unexpected loss of control frightened her. Tango had said that Arthurs was a low-grade psychic!

When she knew me, I was. But that was twenty-eight years ago. She’s changed her name, I’ve learned some new tricks. He savored “Tango,” rolling it around in Miranda’s mind. Nice. It suits her. His mental voice paused. So what did you have planned for me? Or did you have any plan at all?

No, Miranda confessed, half to herself, half to Arthurs’ presence. When she had suggested using her powers on the mercenary, she had actually been more frightened than he and Tango put together.

She had seen the chain bracelet sitting on a nighttable beside Arthurs’ bed, even if Tango hadn’t. A Bandog chain. Even before she had seen the chain, she had thought that Arthurs’ face seemed familiar. Now she knew where from, and the chain was in her pocket. But all she had wanted to do when she’d suggested hypnotizing the mercenary was to keep him from talking. Beyond that...

Such strategy, Arthurs said sarcastically. I thought I recognized you when you came in as well. You didn’t have to worry — I meant what 1 told her. I wouldn’t have betrayed Solomon.

So Solomon had had Riley kidnapped! Miranda saw Arthurs’ face wince even as the thought came to her. He had realized his mistake as well.

All right. You know. Solomon had me kidnap Riley. He enchanted a dead man’s hand so it would lead me to him. His eyes grew sharp instead of frightened. What are you going to do with the information?

She was going to tell Tango. She was going to tell Tango who hired Arthurs, and where to find him. She was going to... no. If she told Tango about Solomon’s involvement, the changeling would inevitably find out about her role in the murders. Miranda almost bit her lip in horrified frustration. She couldn’t tell Tango what she knew!

Unless Arthurs was the one who told Tango about Solomon.

And then what do you think he will say when she confronts him? Hmmm? Don’t you think it would be so much easier if the connection to the Bandog came to an end here? Arthurs’ voice was seductive, but compelling at the same time. He was right. If Tango kept following the trail that led from Atlanta to Arthurs, she would inevitably encounter the Bandog. And Miranda didn’t want that to happen.

No, Arthurs urged, you don’t. And a few simple lies are all it will take. Some misdirection. No one will get hurt.

He presented his plan to her in a burst of information. It was simple. It would benefit both of them. It couldn’t fail.

Miranda agreed.

Excellent, murmured Arthurs. Now...

Miranda stopped him. She tried to frame a direct question — words, not random thoughts for Arthurs to pull out of her head. It was difficult. Concepts kept getting mixed in with the words, layers of meaning wrapping together. Is Riley (Tango) all right (angry with me)? Is he (she) still alive (going to be upset)? Miranda flushed at the conflicting thoughts.

Arthurs laughed silently. You don’t know Shiv at all. Miranda glared at him, her will scrabbling against the impenetrable barrier of his mind. She captured at least part of his attention, because suddenly he stopped laughing. You really want an answer?

Yes.

I don’t know.

Why did Solomon have him kidnapped? Arthurs didn’t reply. Miranda tried again. Why did Solomon...

Follow the plan, Miranda. And remember that Tango is watching.

Arthurs pushed her out of his mind.

* * *

Miranda seemed to be taking an awfully long time to seize control of Jubilee’s will, but Tango knew that that was only a feeling. It had been only a minute, maybe a touch longer. She was being impatient. But they were so close now! Miranda and Jubilee were still, eyes locked onto eyes. Tango wondered if she should check on Miranda again. No. Patience, she told herself, patience.

And then Jubilee drew a slow, rasping breath. Miranda gritted her teeth. “I’ve got him,” she said.

“Who hired him?”

Miranda relayed the question. Jubilee replied unwillingly, the information almost having to force its way out of his mouth. “A streetgang leader named Indigo.”

A gang leader? “Why?”

“Because I needed the money.”

Tango clenched her teeth. “No. Why did Indigo want Riley kidnapped?”

“He wanted revenge. Riley murdered a member of his gang.”

Tango froze. “Riley?” She glanced at Miranda. “Could he be lying?”

The vampire shook her head slowly. “Not under my control.”

“But Riley wouldn’t do something like that.” Riley was a prankster, not a killer. But... maybe he had killed a man. Maybe he was a killer. Tango tensed unconsciously. You could never tell, could you? You never knew. She looked back at Jubilee. “Ask him if he knows more.”

Miranda did ask — and Jubilee did know more. Indigo ran guns for Pentex, distributing them to other gangs and punks on the streets. Someone Riley was close to had been killed by one of Indigo’s guns. Riley had been looking for revenge as well. When Indigo couldn’t capture the changeling himself, he had turned to Jubilee. Jubilee had traced Riley to San Francisco, hired Atlanta Hunter to bring him back, held him here until the effects of her bracelet had worn off, then handed the captive changeling over to Indigo. Indigo’s base of operations was a warehouse at the end of Towns Road off Kipling Avenue.

Tango was sitting on the edge of Jubilee’s bed by the time he had finished. She just stared at the mercenary. “Why?” she murmured.

“Is that a question?” asked Miranda wearily. “If it is, what more do you want to know? Isn’t this enough?” “No. I mean, no, it isn’t a question. Do you know where Towns Road is?”

Miranda shook her head. “No again. But Kipling is on the other side of the city. If you want to go check it out, I can do to Jubilee what I did to the man in the back yard and put him to sleep. That would keep him out of the way.”

“If this warehouse is that far away, I think I’d want to have Jubilee with me in case something went wrong.” Miranda seemed startled. “It wouldn’t be a problem for me to put him under. He’d be safe here. And what could go wrong? He’s told us everything.”

Tango just shook her head. “It’s not that I doubt your abilities. It’s just that... I know how slippery Jubilee can be. He might have found a way around your control. Something about this just isn’t right.” Tango drew her knees up to her chin, sitting with her feet on the bed. “Why did all of this happen? Why didn’t Riley tell me something was wrong when he was in San Francisco?” She put her head down on her knees. And what did it have to do with the yellow file he’d mentioned in his frantic message?

Her head snapped back up. “The yellow file!” she spat excitedly. “Ask Jubilee about the yellow file!” Miranda blinked. “What yellow file?”

“Someone broke into Riley’s apartment while he was in San Francisco and searched it. They stole a yellow file out of a hidden compartment. Riley left a message later saying to take that file to the duke.” Tango jumped up. “Ask him about it. Was he the one who broke into the apartment?”

“Jubilee?” asked Miranda. “Did you break into Riley’s apartment?” The mercenary nodded slowly. Miranda glanced at Tango.

“The file,” she prompted her eagerly.

“What was in the file?”

Jubilee was silent. “Ask him again!” Tango ordered. “Ask him what happened to it!”

Miranda licked her lips. “Jubilee, what was in the file? What did you do with it?”

“The file...” Jubilee said slowly. Then his voice quickened with certainty. “The file had details of Indigo’s gunrunning operation. And some other notes.” Tango leaned forward. “I gave it to, Indigo.”

“Damn it!” cursed Tango. She clenched her hands into fists.

“But I made a copy first.”

Tango stared at him. So did Miranda. “Where is the copy, Jubilee?” the vampire asked.

“In the basement. In a box marked ‘Books.’”

“Stay with him, Miranda.” Tango scrambled to her feet.

“Wait! I can...”

But Tango was already out the door and down the hall, running through the kitchen. When they had come in the back door of the house, they had come up a half-flight of stairs. There had been stairs leading down from the back door as well. Tango paused at the top of them. There were light switches beside the door. She flicked at them until the lights in the basement went on.

The basement wasn’t much to look at, just a hard concrete floor and bare, unfinished walls. In one corner, however, was a small pile of boxes. Tango went over to them. There were actually three or four labeled ‘Books.’ She opened the first and dumped it out. Just books and nothing more than books. She reached for a second box.

Behind her, the stairs creaked. She whirled around, knife at the ready. It was Miranda. “I told you to stay with Jubilee!”

“I put him to sleep. There’s nothing he can do.” The vampire walked all of the way down to stand at the bottom of the steps. “What do you think you’re going

to find in the file?”

“I don’t know, but get back upstairs! I don’t trust Jubil—”

From outside came the sound of a car engine roaring to life.

CHAPTERELEVEN

Till Laura dwindling

Seemed knocking at Death’s door:

Then Lizzie weighed no more

Tango ran for the stairs. Miranda tried to act clumsy, to get in her way and slow her down, but the changeling pushed right past her, shoving her effortlessly to one side. She yanked open the back door and charged outside, around the corner of the house. Miranda ran after her.

Arthurs was already out of the driveway and driving down Hillock Street in reverse, not taking the time to turn around. Tango was pursuing him grimly, moving faster than a human could. She might even be able to catch him when he paused to change gears. If he didn’t shoot her first. “Tango!” Miranda yelled. “Watch out!"

She was almost too late. Streetlights flashed on the barrel of Arthurs’ revolver as he stuck his arm out the car window and fired blindly. The gunshot was loud, the eerie flare of green flame that the revolver produced shockingly bright. It was hard to say what happened first: Tango throwing herself aside in reaction, or a chunk of asphalt a couple of feet from her exploding into black splinters. Arthurs reached the end of the street, brought the car to a screaming halt, threw it into first, then took off again with a squeal of tires. Tango was back on her feet, but there was no way she was going to be able to catch him now. She stopped at the end of Hillock and stared after the receding car. Jubilee must have been long out of sight by the time the changeling began walking back down the street. Lights were starting to come on in other houses along the street as people reacted to the gunshot. Hastily, Miranda wrapped a cloak of shadows around Tango as soon as she was close enough. With luck, anyone looking out their windows now would see only a vague figure.

But Tango was walking slowly. Miranda shrank back into the shadows of Arthurs’ house — such shadows as there were, of course. All of the activity had brought on the lights connected to the motion detectors. The house might as well have been on fire. If the gunshots hadn’t attracted the notice of the neighbors, the bright lights would. Miranda hoped that the cool, polite uninvolvement of Toronto would be enough to keep people from calling the police. She wasn’t going to count on it, though. The atmosphere was different out here in the suburbs. People weren’t quite so willing to look the other way, and the arrival of the police would make things difficult. “Move it, Tango,” she muttered to herself.

The changeling took her time, walking with her face emotionlessly blank. “What happened?” she asked flatly as she walked up the driveway.

“I don’t know,” Miranda lied. But she did. She had let Arthurs go. She hadn’t even tried to put him to sleep after he had improvised the bit about the copies in the basement. She had simply let him retrieve his gun and run while she went downstairs after Tango. What else could she have done? Arthurs’ plan had been to escape while the women were gone. If Tango had taken the mercenary with them out to the warehouse on Towns Road, he wouldn’t have had any chance to get away. And because the warehouse, and the story about Riley and Indigo and everything else, was a lie, too, Tango would have questioned Arthurs again. And this time she would have found out about the Bandog. “I put him under. Do you think he could have resisted my control somehow — because he’s psychic?”

“Wouldn’t you have known?”

Miranda almost bit her tongue, but managed to say smoothly, “I don’t know. I’ve never tried to control a psychic before.” She caught Tango’s arm. “We should leave before the police come. We were lucky at Atlanta’s. We won’t be lucky twice.”

Tango shook her hand off and turned to look at her. The other woman’s expression wasn’t as blank as Miranda had thought. It was merely still, like the calm eye of a hurricane. Deep rage smoldered just beneath Tango’s skin. “Get the man from the back yard and bring him inside.”

“Tango...”

“Do it!” Tango spat. “If Arthurs fooled you into thinking he was asleep, he probably lied about this Indigo guy as well. He knew something. Maybe his men know it, too.” She turned again and walked on. “We’re not leaving until I’ve got something. I’m too close to getting some answers about Riley.” Miranda caught the flash of metal in Tango’s hand. Her knife. The changeling was trembling.

No. What if Arthurs’ men did know something? Miranda doubted they were going to be able to resist interrogation — hers or Tango’s — the way that Arthurs had. She grabbed Tango to stop her....

And found herself flying suddenly through the air to slam hard into the ground. Tango was crouching over her, knife high. Her teeth were bared in a ferocious grimace. “Don’t try that again. And don’t try to hypnotize me, because the first thing I’ll go for will be your eyes.”

Miranda froze, more out of shock than anything else. “Tango?” For a moment, the changeling looked more like the inhuman creature that she was than the small woman she seemed to be. Wild, primal. Her eyes were burning. Breath was whistling sharply between her teeth. Her muscles were straining.

For the first time since her Embrace, Miranda felt really, truly afraid for her life. Her body was cold with a fright that went beyond the chill of natural death.

“Tango?” she asked again, this time in a whisper. Tango blinked, staring down at her, realizing what she was doing. “Are you all right?”

The changeling stayed where she was for a moment longer, ready to strike. Then, slowly, her knife-hand came down, falling to her side. She closed her eyes. “Get me out of here, Miranda.” She slipped off the vampire. “Get me out of here before I kill somebody.” Miranda didn’t need a second invitation. Instinct prompted her to ask about Arthurs’ men, one asleep in the backyard, one wounded inside, and what the police would say when they finally arrived, but she restrained herself. There were hundreds of unsolved crimes in Toronto, thanks to the Sabbat. One more would make no difference. And if Tango was suddenly willing to forego questioning Arthurs’ men, Miranda wasn’t about to remind her of them. This time it was she who led Tango through back yards away from the house on Hillock Street, moving as quickly and quietly as possible, using the deepest of shadows to shroud their escape.

They were practically back to the car before Miranda realized that she had done it — she had kept Tango from finding out about the Bandog, and Solomon’s role in kidnapping Riley. Her secret was safe, at least for now.

She should have been happy.

* * *

Tango leaned her head against the cool glass of the car window. Jubilee was gone, and with him her best chance of finding Riley. Now that the mercenary knew she was looking for him, he would hide, and that would make finding him again very difficult. Maybe impossible. There were still his henchmen, of course. If they knew anything, even the faintest scrap of a clue, it could help her track Jubilee down. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to question them. She was afraid to. Afraid of what she might do.    •

After all these years, it was happening again. She was losing control.

Her anger had almost overcome her several times in the last few days. At Duke Michael’s court when she had first arrived in Toronto. In Hopeful, the night she had met Miranda. In Atlanta Hunter’s apartment. She had restrained herself then, though; restrained herself or been restrained by Miranda. Tonight had been much worse. She didn’t remember taking the vampire down.

She barely remembered hissing that terrible threat at her. She remembered all too well what she had been willing to do to Jubilee’s henchmen, however.

Instead of a breaking-and-entering situation, the police would have been investigating a double murder. She had seen a couple of police cruisers, lights flashing and sirens wailing, racing toward Hillock Street as Miranda drove calmly out of the neighborhood. Someone, it seemed, had called the police very quickly.

The frustration of the search for Riley was taking its toll on her.

The character of the buildings that flashed past the window began to change from the neatly spaced homes of the suburbs to the tight-packed buildings of the city. They left Scarborough behind and returned to Toronto proper. They were driving between the old towers of the downtown core before Miranda spoke to her. “What now?”

What now, indeed? Tango closed her eyes. It was late. She was tired, she was frustrated. She should go back to Riley’s apartment and sleep. Tomorrow she would decide w'hat to do next in her search for the pooka. Tonight, though... tonight she couldn’t face the thought of going back to that apartment, knowing that she had failed. Knowing what was lurking so close to the surface of her soul. She would have to go back eventually, but she needed to wind down first. Somewhere with people. Somewhere she could relax and let herself drift. She opened her eyes again and turned to Miranda. The vampire was looking at her as well, the light of passing streetlamps washing in waves over her face.

“Can we go somewhere for a drink?” Tango asked her. She winced a bit as she realized her mistake and added hastily, “I mean, somewhere I can get a drink and you can...”

“I fed a little from the man at Jubilee’s house. I’m all right. I’d enjoy going out.” Miranda hesitated. “But not back to Hopeful.”

“No. You’re right.” Tango didn’t feel like going to Hopeful either. After Todd’s murder and after the riot she had witnessed on College Street, she didn’t want to go back to Hopeful again. “Pick somewhere else.” Miranda glanced at the dashboard clock. “It’s almost too late to make last call in most places. Do you have a problem with after-hours clubs?”

“No.” Tango sat back. “Did 1 tell you that I manage a big nightclub in San Francisco?”

“No.”

“Have you ever heard of Pan’s?”

“Not really.”

Tango smiled. “That’s good. Pm tired of people who have.”

Miranda smiled as well. “I hope you like this place then. It’s called Club Haze. I’ve been there before with the pack. Hunting. It will be nice to go casually.”

They drove up to just north of the downtown core and parked in a lot where the attendant, chatting on a telephone, virtually ignored them. Club Haze was down the street, just a door, an awning, and a flight of stairs going up. There was no sign. By day, it would have been practically invisible. By night, with the door open, colored light and music drifting out, and a tough-looking doorman controlling the flow of patrons, it was hard to miss. The doorman eyed Tango’s and Miranda’s clothes critically as they approached. Neither was dressed in what could really be called club fashion, except that they were wearing black. Miranda just caught the man’s gaze, however, and he let them past without even asking for cover.

The club was much more impressive inside: cool, dark, and decorated in a kind of industrial minimalist style. The tables had brushed steel tops that reminded Tango of the main bar at Pan’s. The music was good. There was a smallish, slightly sunken dance floor with cold blue and white lights. Cigarette smoke was a thick cloud in the air. It wasn’t clear whether it was the smoke or the glare of harsh light on bare metal that gave rise to the club’s name. Club Haze’s only drawback was that it was in Yorkville. The very eastern end of Yorkville, admittedly, almost on the corner of Yonge Street, but still in Yorkville. And the last thing Tango wanted right now was to run into another Kithain.

“Miranda...” she began, but the vampire was already sitting down at a table overlooking the dance floor. She had pulled a chair out for Tango. The nocker bit back her words and sat. A waitress came over and took their orders. Tango ordered a pint of Toby. To her surprise, Miranda ordered the same thing. She gave the vampire a questioning glance. Miranda shrugged.

“You can have mine once you’ve finished yours.” “Thanks.”

The music in the club was at a good level, loud enough to dance to, but not so loud that conversation was impossible. Even so, Tango was silent, watching the dance floor and waiting for her beer to come. Miranda was silent, too. When the beer finally came, Miranda reached into her pocket. Tango stopped her. “Let me.” “At least let me pay for mine.”

“No. You’re not going to drink it, are you? Besides, I owe you for what I... said earlier.”

That ended Miranda’s objections. Her mouth closed. Tango paid for the beer, and the waitress went away. The two women fell into silence again, but only for a moment this time. Tango took a sip of her beer and said, “I really am sorry.”

Miranda shook her head. “That’s okay. I don’t blame you. You thought you had a lead and it died. You must be under a lot of pressure.”

“More than you know.” She stared into the dark depths of her beer.

“What? You mean that curse you told me about? The one that keeps you from leaving Toronto?”

“No.” Tango flushed. She shouldn’t have said anything. “There’s more than that.” She reached out and took Miranda’s hand. “Thank you for helping me, Miranda. 1 know you said that you didn’t look on this as a matter of favors anymore, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

“It’s all right.” The vampire smiled, almost guiltily it seemed at first, then broadly and happily. She gripped Tango’s hand in return. “You’re welc—”

“Tango!”

Suddenly, Sin was dropping down into a crouch beside their table. Miranda started, hissing. Tango had to force herself to remain still and not react violently to the dark-haired sidhe’s sudden appearance. It would have been too easy to call up her knife. Sin was smiling. Tango took a deep breath to calm herself. “What do you want, Sin?” she asked him sourly.

The unfriendliness in her tone went over his head completely. “Nothing. I’m here on a date.” He w'aved at a woman sitting at a table a little ways away. She waved back and smiled. “I think I may be able to work an epiphany out of her.”

“Good for you.”

Sin’s smile faded this time. He considered her and Miranda. “I was talking to Ruby today. She said you had been by and that you were still looking for Riley. Any luck?”

“Not really, no.”

Sin pushed himself to his feet. “Ooo-kay. How are plans for Highsummer going?”

“Ask Epp.” Tango gave him a thin smile. “Shouldn’t you be going? I wouldn’t want your date to get cold.” Sin’s jaw tightened in anger. He walked away without saying another word. Tango turned back to Miranda. “Let’s go.”

“What? Why?” The vampire looked confused. “He was another changeling, wasn’t he?”

“He’s a sidhe.” Tango sighed. “I’m sorry, Miranda. I just don’t want to be around other Kithain right now.” Miranda arched her eyebrows. “Well, you aren’t. I don’t think he’s going to come near you for a long time. What did he mean by ‘plans for Highsummer,’ and who is Epp?”

“Can I tell you another time, Miranda?”

“Can’t you tell me now? Please?” She caught Tango’s arm and asked insistently, “Does it involve Riley? Shouldn’t I know about it?”

Tango looked around. Sin and his date had moved away. She couldn’t see them anymore. Out of sight, out of mind, she supposed. Maybe she could stand to stay at Club Haze as long as he wasn’t around her. She glanced at Miranda hesitantly. “I guess you should.” She picked up her beer again and began to tell the vampire the whole story about Riley, Duke Michael and Epp. By the time she was finished, she had started on Miranda’s beer, and the vampire was gazing grimly off into space.

“I don’t think,” Miranda said, “that I would like Epp very much.”

“That’s the way boggans tend to be. They’re the original anal retentives. There used to be a rumor that Freud either knew a boggan or was one himself. Sidhe are — sidhe. How else do you describe them?” Tango sipped at the beer disconsolately. She had hoped that telling the whole story to another person would make her feel better, but it hadn’t. She felt worse than before, much more aware of how hopeless the situation was. Riley had been missing for four days now, and if someone like Jubilee Arthurs was involved in his disappearance, chances were good that Riley was dead by now. Even if he was, though, she had to know more, and it didn’t seem likely that she would.

At least telling the story to Miranda had given her a chance to get a grip on her emotions again. She felt calmer now. Even if the situation was hopeless, she was in control of herself once more.

“If 1 had been you...” Miranda shook her head. “I probably would have torn Epp apart. Duke Michael, too.” Tango jerked suddenly, choking on a mouthful of beer. Miranda blinked and grimaced. “Sorry.”

“No.” Tango gasped for air. “That’s okay.” Maybe she wasn’t quite as in-control as she thought.

“I guess it’s just what a vampire would have done.”

“Possibly.”

“I mean, we can be pretty vicious sometimes.”

Miranda glanced toward the dance floor. “Vampires have done some terrible things.”

Tango was aware of Miranda watching her out of the comer of her eye, as if she were testing Tango’s reactions and waiting for some kind of response. What did she want, assurances that Tango didn’t find her means of existence repulsive? The changeling almost laughed. Instead, she took another careful swallow of beer and steered the subject in another direction. “I remember one of the first vampires I ever met. It was in France, at an old chateau in the north. Her name was Elyse. She’d been dead for more than three hundred years, but she was still one of the most human...” Tango smiled, searching for another word. “She was a good person. She used to dream of going back to Versailles — she’d lived there during the reign of Louis XIV.”

Miranda looked at her directly for a moment. “She must have been Camarilla.”

“I didn’t ask. Does it matter? She didn’t apologize for what she had done.” Tango almost bit her tongue as she realized that the conversation had come back to Miranda’s topic, and that she had brought it there herself. Her smile twisted bitterly. “It was her nature. Like it’s a boggan’s nature to be nosy, or a sidhe’s nature to be arrogant, or a nocker’s nature to tinker with machines.”

“I’ve never seen you tinkering with any machines.” Tango couldn’t hold back a short, barking laugh. No, control didn’t come back so easily. “Well, nature isn’t everything, is it?” Does that answer your question? she thought. Does that satisfy you? She watched Miranda turn back to the dance floor. The vampire was silent. So was Tango. She had emptied most of the second glass

of beer before either of them spoke again.

“Tango,” Miranda asked suddenly, “Sin said that he might be able to work an ‘epiphany’ out of his date. What’s an epiphany?”

Tango stared into the last of her beer. “Kithain need something we call ‘Glamour’ in order to keep our faerie half alive. One way to get Glamour is from mortals. Sometimes they generate it when they create or imagine something. When a Kithain absorbs that Glamour, it’s called an epiphany. It’s like...” she shrugged. “It’s like you’re one with the universe. It’s like an orgasm that just goes on and on. It’s transcendent.”

“Sort of the way feeding feels to a vampire??” Miranda sounded distant.

“I guess so. Why?” Tango glanced up and followed Miranda’s gaze toward the dance floor. The vampire didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to.

Sin and his date were dancing. Or rather, Sin’s date was dancing. Sin was practically standing still on the dance floor, just watching her move to the music. There was an expression of rapture on the woman’s face. She wasn’t just dancing to the music, she was dancing with the music. A few people on the dance floor were looking at her, but she wasn’t looking at them. If she was dancing for anyone, it might have been for Sin. Mostly, however, she was dancing for herself. The music, the act of dancing, had carried her away, transporting her to some other state of being. Glamour shone inside her and Sin was basking in its glow, his face alight, lost in wonder. Miranda couldn’t see the Glamour, of course, but she must have been able to see the bliss in the faces of both Sin and the dancing woman.

Tango’s stomach twisted. “That’s an epiphany,” she confirmed, and turned away.

“Then it is like feeding. Like feeding slowly from a willing partner. Both the vampire and the vessel enjoy it.” Miranda seemed almost as caught in the magic of the Glamour as Sin or his date.

“Maybe. I wouldn’t know.” Miranda glanced at her questioningly. Tango stood. “Can we go now?”

“Is something wrong?”

Tango didn’t answer, but just walked out of the club. It was raining lightly, thin drops falling out of the darkness. Miranda caught her just outside. “Tell me what’s wrong. Is it something to do with Riley?”

“No.” Tango began to walk toward the lot where they had left Miranda’s car. “Not really.”

“Is it something to do with me?”

Miranda sounded frightened. Tango laughed, the harsh sound horrible and alien. “No.”

“Is it... is it something to do with Sin? With his epiphany? Tell me.” Miranda’s hand came down on Tango’s shoulder.

The changeling froze instantly. Her knife was in her hand before she thought about it. Slowly, the blade came up to rest gently against Miranda’s hand. “Didn’t I tell you not to touch me? Didn’t you ever learn not to put your hand on the stove to see if it was hot?” The vampire didn’t move. Tango looked up at the dead void of the cloud-covered sky. She sighed. “Oh, Miranda. Do you really want to know?”

Miranda hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally.

“All right.” Tango banished her knife and turned to look up at the vampire. They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Behind them was the darkened front of a restaurant. Across the street was a firehall. The music from Club Haze whispered like a lonely phantom. “In the early seventies, Kithain fought what we call the Accordance War. Centuries ago, Arcadia

— the home of the Kithain — was cut off from Earth. Most of the world’s Glamour was cut off with it. Noble fae, like the sidhe, were mostly able to escape to Arcadia. Common fae, nockers, pookas, boggans and the rest, were trapped on Earth. To survive, we merged with humans and became changelings. Our society and traditions changed. All of the nonsense about kings and dukes and courts fell away, because everybody was just too busy trying to survive. Then something changed. Faeries from Arcadia started coming to Earth again. The sidhe came back.” Her eyes were hard. “They saw us as peasants. Thralls. Servants. Nothing but commoners. They wanted us to bow down to them because their ancestors had ruled ours centuries ago.”

“Like ancient vampires waking?”

Tango nodded sharply. “A little bit, yes. The commoners resisted the sidhe. The sidhe killed our leaders in a massacre we call the Night of Iron Knives. The struggle turned into the Accordance War.”

“Who won?”

“Nobody. The sidhe learned to respect the commoners and the commoners learned to respect the sidhe. More or less.” Tango took a deep breath. “I fought in the War. My name was still Shiv then. I took what I learned from Jubilee and I fought the sidhe.” She spread her hands. “I don’t have much magic, Miranda. I don’t have the nocker talent for working with machines. I don’t even have the nocker dourness: I like being around people. What magic I have is in my strength and my speed. But I’m good with what I’ve got, and I was then, too. And I hated the sidhe. I managed to get myself assigned to an elite unit — of assassins.”

She waited for some reaction from Miranda, just as the vampire had earlier tried to prompt a reaction from her. And as before, nothing happened. The vampire was silent, looking down at her with dark eyes. Tango nodded again. “Killing probably doesn’t bother you at all, does it? It didn’t bother me either. Not then. I was still young. The War was like a kind of game and I got lost in it. That’s why Jubilee was afraid of me. I was vicious, unstoppable. I even scared redcaps. Do you know why?”

Miranda shook her head slowly. Tango grinned at her. “Because it became my epiphany.”

The words came out as a horrible whisper. Sibilant, frightening. Mad. They echoed up out of a deep abyss, dark and terrible. There were three ways in which a Kithain could gather Glamour. Ravaging was the rape of a human’s creative imagination, wrenching Glamour from them. The Reverie was what Sin had done tonight, guiding and inspiring a human to create, then reaping the Glamour that flowed from her. But the third means of gathering Glamour, Rapture, came out of a Kithain herself, out of the creativity of her own human aspect. Some Kithain could never do it. Some found it simple. Tango had been one of the latter. She had found Rapture in the art of death. She could still remember what it was like: the plotting, the stalking, the final rush, the plunge of the knife....

“Tango?”

Tango snarled, dragging herself away from the temptation of that abyss. She wasn’t that person anymore. “Take me home, Miranda.” She turned and began walking toward the parking lot again.

“But what happened?” Miranda walked beside her

— but more than an arm’s length away.

“I gave it up. I stopped.”

“Why?”

Tango had to laugh. This time, it almost felt good. “Only a vampire could ask that question.” They turned into the parking lot. “Because not long before the end of the War, we found out that young sidhe were being hidden in upstate New York. My unit was sent to kill them.”

Miranda froze. “And you refused?”

“I accepted. I killed five sidhe on that mission.”

* * *

Tango’s voice was'flat. Not casual, but not repentant either. It was simply flat. Miranda stared at the changeling, shocked by her uncaring tone. Tango glanced back at her. She must have guessed at her thoughts. “I cried the tears a long time ago, Miranda. There’s nothing left now.” The changeling was beside the car, waiting for her. Miranda fumbled with the keys, too stunned to say anything.

Tango was more like her than she had realized. Than she could have guessed. A killer. Miranda’s hands were shaking as she tried to fit the key into the lock on the car door. All of this time she had been trying to conceal her evil from Tango, trying to live up to the changeling’s model. Only to discover that Tango was as evil as she was — or at least had been as evil. It frightened her, frightened her and made her feel cold.

Tango had hidden her evil, but she was no better than any vampire that Miranda had known.

The revelation left her with a terrible feeling inside, as if she were suddenly falling through darkness without any point of reference. She got the door open and slid into the car, reaching across to unlock and open the other door for Tango. “What happened?” she asked thickly as Tango got in.

Tango stared straight ahead through the windshield. “Our real targets — the children — had escaped. But 1 killed three sidhe knights and two old women who had been willing to sacrifice themselves to get the children away from us. When 1 came out of the epiphany, the rest of my unit was still stalking through the sidhe freehold. There was blood on my hands. I had chased one of the knights out into the garden. I had wounded her badly, and I thought she was trying to get away. She wasn’t.” Tango closed her eyes for a moment. “I found out later that she practiced Rapture, too, but her art was growing things. The gardens of the freehold belonged to her. She wanted to die there.” The changeling opened her eyes again. They were as flat and empty as her voice. “She didn’t. I brought her down and stabbed her in the back just before she reached them. Then I looked up and saw the gardens.” She glanced at Miranda. “Drive,” she suggested.

Miranda nodded and started the car. When they left the parking lot, she turned toward Jarvis Street and Riley’s apartment. It seemed as appropriate a place to go as any. They could have just driven around, but suddenly Miranda wanted... no, needed a destination.

Tango kept talking. “There was a full moon that night. The gardens were beautiful. More beautiful than anything I’d ever seen before or have ever seen since. The flowers were bursting with Glamour. There was wonder in the air and magic in the dew on the ground. The gardens drew me in. I just wandered in them for hours. Everything was fresh, everything was alive — everything except the sidhe who had created the gardens. She was dead, and her blood was mixing with the other blood under my fingernails. And the gardens were starting to die as well. No one else could have done with them what she had. The plants might live, but the Glamour would slowly fade away. I started to wonder about the other sidhe I had killed. What had I taken out of the world?” She leaned back against the headrest. “Just before dawn I picked a rosebud. It smelled so sweet, and the Glamour in it... that’s when I cried, Miranda. I walked away from that garden and my unit. I left behind Shiv’s life. I swore that 1 would never kill again. Nobody ever knew what happened to the assassin that even the redcaps were afraid of. Everything was in chaos because of the War, so it was easy to reintroduce myself. 1 created a new identity. I tried to be like I was before the War, before I had met Jubilee. Just another young Kithain enjoying the world.”

She laughed bitterly and Miranda glanced at her. She was looking out the window at a group of young people coming out of a club, happy and clowning around. “It didn’t work. I had done too much. I couldn’t go back. All of the skills, all of the rage, all of those moments of epiphany. The Rapture of death. I had to fight them. Every moment of life with the Kithain became a hell. When the others wanted to play a prank on a bunch of humans, I thought twice about it. What would it be like for the humans? Any epiphany brought back memories of Rapture.” Tango touched her chest. “I couldn’t get rid of it all, so I buried it. Buried it under layers of control, and promised myself that I would never touch it again. I tried to play the games of the Kithain for as long as I could, trying to forget. But it wouldn’t go away. So I did. I left the Kithain behind, except for a few special friends like Riley that I saw from time to time. I kept the darkness under control. Sometimes I did even manage to forget about it. I could be strong when I had to be, and violent, but it was always on my terms.”

“Until now,” Miranda murmured.

“Until now. I might have been all right being around Kithain again if Riley had been here. I might have been all right trying to find Riley if the other Kithain weren’t around. But together — and with Jubilee involved — it’s too much. It’s all coming back. Everything is eating away at my control, and I know that I’m going to lose it. I’m afraid of what might happen when I do.” She sighed. “You know, the sidhe still hunt for Shiv. I’m still wanted. And there are commoner extremists who idolize me.”

Miranda turned onto Jarvis. This sounded like the Tango she was familiar with, the one whom she wanted as her friend. But underneath was Shiv. Dark, cruel, reveling in her evil. Too much like Miranda herself. “Why are you telling me this, Tango?” she breathed.

“Because you wanted to know.” They came to a stop in front of Riley’s apartment and Tango turned to look at her. “And because I had to tell someone.” She smiled, weak and weary, but triumphant. Like a warrior who had fought the battle of a lifetime and survived. “I’ve never told anyone this before, Miranda. Not even Riley.”

Except you had to tell me, didn’t you? Miranda’s guts felt like they had been turned inside out. Oh, Tango. She felt like stepping into the shadows and disappearing. But Tango was watching her, and she knew that the changeling was waiting for a reaction, the same sort of reaction that Miranda had sought from her earlier. Acceptance of what she was. Hesitantly, she patted Tango’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay, Tango.” She wiped a finger across her own lips. “It’s a secret.” The changeling smiled. She put her hand over Miranda’s. “I knew I could trust you, Miranda.”

Miranda wasn’t sure what triggered the sudden plummet of her heart down into her belly: the terrible irony of Tango’s words or the sudden, startling appearance of Tolly as he swarmed over the hood of the car and plastered his face against the glass of the windshield. Tango shouted and brought her knife into her hand. Miranda almost screamed herself.

Matt opened the door beside her and leaned down to leer in her face. “Hellloooo, baby.”

She hissed at him in anger, her fangs already visible, claws sprouting unconsciously from her fingertips. “What are you doing here, Matt?”

“Us? We just ended up here after our hunt over on Yonge Street tonight and our prey... decided to go for a little run on the way.” He grinned. “However, I might ask you the same question.”

The hunt on Yonge. Tonight’s penny murder. Here? But they should have committed the murder hours ago. Had they been waiting for her? Miranda forced her sudden terror away. “None of your business.”

Blue had squatted down beside the passenger window. Tango was watching him carefully. Miranda noticed that she still had her knife ready. “This is your pack, I take it?” the changeling asked.

“Yes. Matt, Tolly, Blue — Tango.”

Matt narrowed his eyes as he examined the changeling with his supernatural senses. “Interesting. What is she?”

“That’s none of your business either.” Tango pushed her door open, forcing Blue back out of the way. “I’ll see you, Miranda.”

“Wait a minute.” If the pack had committed Solomon’s murder here, the body — bodies because it was supposed to be a double murder tonight — could be anywhere around. Maybe in Riley’s apartment. How had they known? The paper from her pocket, she realized. The one with Tango’s address. Tolly had read it last night when he was in her room. And he had seen Miranda with Tango that first night at Hopeful. Whatever Tango had just told her, Miranda was still sure that she didn’t want the changeling to know the truth about the penny murders. Miranda got out of the car as well, shoving Matt to one side and grabbing Tolly angrily. The mad vampire came away from the windshield with a sound like a suction cup. “Where are they?” she hissed quietly.

“Abl-abl-abl,” he jabbered. His stretched lips flapped grotesquely. Miranda threw him aside with a snarl.

“Um, Miranda,” said Tango, “why don’t I just give you a call tomorrow?” She was looking down at the ground by the alley between the two halves of Riley’s apartment building. Miranda almost choked. There were dark, bloody footprints on the sidewalk, smearing in the light drizzle of the rain. The pack’s footprints, and they led back into the alley. “This is obviously a pack thing.”

Tolly grinned, his face snapping back to its normal shape, and went scampering into the shadows of the alley like some giant feral cat. Tango turned to look after him.

“No!”

Miranda started around the car, but Matt caught her shoulder. “She’s not going to be able to call you without this, is she?” He slapped the cellular phone into her hand and smiled. “We had a talk with Solomon tonight. He’s not very pleased with you — for leaving the phone behind, among other things.”

Miranda let the phone slip out of her hand and fall to the ground. She wrenched herself away from Matt and leaped toward Tango. But the changeling was already peering down the dark alley. She froze. Miranda slowed and stopped. Tolly was crouching on some trash cans like a thin, demented angel on a graveyard memorial. Laid out beneath him were the night’s victims, a man and a woman, their broken arms crossed over their battered chests, bright copper laid on their bruised eyes.

“It’s you,” Tango whispered in a gravelly voice. “You’re the ones committing the penny murders.”

“Tango.” Miranda reached for her, but stopped. What would happen if she touched the changeling now? Tango’s hand was wrapped tight around the handle of her knife. Her shoulders were tense. She spat into the blood on the ground. Once. Twice. Miranda let her hands drop. “I...”

“Don’t say you didn’t know.” Tango spun around to

face her. Her features were twisted savagely. “That’s why

you had to come late to Atlanta’s. That’s why you were

at Hopeful. You killed Todd! You killed all of them!” ttj »

“Why?” Tango howled. “Why? I told you the murders disgusted me, and you didn’t say anything.” She sliced out with her knife. Miranda jumped back. “I told you everything, and you told me nothing!”

“Tango, we had to do it!” Miranda crouched, backing away, frightened. I’m going to lose it, Tango had said. I'm afraid of what might happen when I do. Now' she had lost control — and Miranda was afraid. “We had to!”

“Had to? No. Had to would mean you fed from them. But you didn’t, did you? You didn’t feed from them. You beat them to death! You didn’t have to do it.”

“You didn’t have to kill sidhe, did you?” Miranda shouted in her own defense.

She said the words without thinking. It was utterly the wrong thing to say. She regretted it instantly. Tango’s eyes went narrow. She hurled herself at the vampire. In a second, Miranda was fighting for her life, meeting the changeling with claws and fangs. But Tango was fast. She stepped in and dodged out, slashing with her knife. She forced Miranda back. The pack was whooping and yelling in the background. A long cut burned across Miranda’s forearm as she tried to block a blow. She slipped down to one knee.

The pack was silent suddenly. Tango brought her knife up.

Miranda summoned the shadows desperately. Darkness swooped in, black as the pit of her soul. Tango screamed — the shadows wouldn’t stop her. She still knew where Miranda was. Or rather, she knew where Miranda had been. Miranda threw herself to one side. The changeling’s knife swept down without meeting resistance, putting Tango off balance. Miranda scrambled to her feet and fled, her heart suddenly hollow.

Tango’s rage followed her into the night.