I shoved my computer into the backpack, then scrambled over. The home page was basic and uninspiring, and a quick look through Finder didn’t reveal anything suggesting it had been used for anything more than ordering stores and chemicals.

“They really have removed everything remotely related to the virus.” Jackson slammed the laptop lid down. “And I don’t think that was a wise move.”

“Maybe they had no other option. Or maybe this particular laptop really was just used for ordering.” I shrugged. “PIT doesn’t want Rinaldo to carry through with his threat any more than we do. I imagine there’ll be remnants on the other—”

I stopped as my phone rang three times and then fell silent.

“That’ll be Dmitri. Give me the phone.”

When I did, he hit the flashlight app, ran the bright light across the window three times, and turned it off.

After shoving the two laptops into the backpack, he scrambled upright, then helped me up. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

We rattled back down the stairs and made our way through the wreckage of the ground floor. The rear yard was tiny, the fence little more than a couple of support posts and a few weatherworn fence posts that were barely hanging on. Once we’d slipped through the biggest gap, all that lay between the trench and us was a sea of waist-high grass and weeds. Jackson paused, his gaze narrowed and body tense. A heartbeat later, the ground shuddered ever so slightly and, up ahead, a slender bridge of dirt and stone began to form.

He tugged me forward. The bridge was still forming as we stepped onto it, but it arched gracefully over the trench and never once felt as if it were going to collapse underneath us. Which was rather weird, given it was also deforming and, just for a heartbeat, it simply hung in the air, connected at neither end.

Then we were on the other side. The bridge had become nothing but earth again, and Dmitri was striding toward us. Like Jackson, he didn’t exactly fit the classic image of a fae—at least as described in literature and common myths. The earth was a solid element, and that very much described the fae who controlled it. Dmitri—like most of them—was about five foot nine and had a very stocky build, with rich brown skin and hair. The only way you could really tell any of them apart was via their facial shape and eyes. Dmitri’s features were a little sharp, and his eyes the color of burned earth.

“Ah, it’s the lovely Emberly,” he said, ignoring Jackson completely as he caught my hand and kissed it. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”

I grinned. All fae were outrageous flirts, even if fire fae were the ones who had the reputation for corrupting the innocent. Not that there was a chance of that in my case.

“It’s lovely to see you, too, Dmitri. Thanks for coming to our rescue again.”