“What if it’s not a location, but rather the number code for that air lock we found?”

He blinked. Clearly, he hadn’t considered that option, either. “That is certainly possible.”

“It won’t solve the thumbprint problem, but it might at least be one part of the puzzle.”

“The thumbprint isn’t actually a problem—Luke’s fingerprints are a matter of police record, and the recent developments in fake skin mean we can reproduce a good enough copy to use on the scanner.”

“You will let us know what you find in there,” Jackson said. “Otherwise, my ass is going to be parked outside that damn door until you do.”

The hint of a smile touched Sam’s lips. He really had begun to thaw out—and I had to wonder how much of that was because he’d given in to his body’s need to ingest blood.

A lot, I suspected.

“I can’t promise anything, but if you happen to receive a thumbs-up on your phone, you’ll know we’ve discovered the scientists.” He paused. “Which might just be a good enough reason to keep your damn phone on you.”

“Maybe,” Jackson said.

He touched a hand to my back and lightly guided me toward the broken front door. I nodded a good-bye at both Sam and Adam, but I could feel the weight of Sam’s gaze following me as we left the building.

But he was a puzzle I had no energy to concentrate on.

Jackson ushered me into the car, then ran around to the driver’s side and jumped in. In very little time we were cruising toward the city.

For the first time in ages, he actually parked at the front of our office. He obviously caught my surprise, because he half shrugged and said, “With PIT tagging us, it’s pretty pointless parking anywhere else and walking.”

“But what about using the blacksmith’s?” Jackson had an ongoing agreement with the owner for twenty-four-hour, no-questions-asked access, even though Jackson tended to go there only at night—not because he was a night owl, but because he didn’t want anyone knowing it was the source of his fire. As an elemental fae, he had to regularly commune with his element or risk fading, and even death.

I opened the door and climbed out. The evening was crisp and clear, the stars bright in the sky. Most of Stanley Street was retail businesses these days, and, as a result, the only lights visible were the streetlights.

“I’ve actually invested in another means of getting into the blacksmith’s,” he said, his eyes gleaming brightly in the darkness.

I raised an eyebrow. “Meaning what?”

“I broke into their roof.”

I laughed. “You didn’t.”