cruiser. And antagonizing the lady who held the keys to their

handcuffs probably wasn’t the best strategy.

“We’re not giving up,” she told Eve. “We’re just . . . biding our

time.”

“And what do you think they’re going to do to him while we’re

biding, exactly?” Eve asked, yanking at the mesh again. “Yo, Han-

nah! How does it feel to stab your friends in the back? Hope you

didn’t get blood all over your neatly pressed uniform!”

The deputy turned around and gave her a cold, hard stare. “Sit

quietly,” he said. “If you don’t, I’ll shock you until you do.”

“With what, your breath? Ever heard of flossing, Deputy

Dimwit?”

“Eve,” Hannah said. It was a warning, a flat and naked one,

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Rachel Caine

and it was reinforced by the deputy— whose breath, in all fairness, did kind of reek— taking out a Taser.

Although Eve was still simmering with rage, she let go and sat

back, folding her arms over her chest. Then she kicked his seat.

Didn’t do any good, because the seat was reinforced with a steel

plate, but she probably felt better for doing it.

“Hey,” Claire said, and reached her hand out toward Eve. Eve

hesitated, then took it and gripped hard. “It’ll be okay. He’ll be

okay.”

Eve didn’t say anything. She was probably thinking, You don’t

know that, and she would have been right. Claire didn’t know that.

She felt cold and helpless and vulnerable, and she didn’t know how

any of this could really be okay . . . but for now, in the moments

between opportunities, all she could do was pretend.

She expected they’d be taken straight to the jail, or at least to the courthouse, but instead the two police cruisers turned off and headed for the outskirts of Morganville. Claire recognized the area, and she didn’t like it at all. Nothing good happened out here on the fringes of town; it was full of abandoned buildings and abandoned people.

“Hey,” she said, leaning forward but careful not to touch the

mesh. “Excuse me, but where exactly are you taking us?”

“Don’t worry. You’re not in any danger,” Hannah said. “I have

someone who wants to meet you. We’re almost there.”

When Claire had left Morganville, a lot of rebuilding had been

under way around town, but not in this area. Nobody had thought it

much worth saving, she suspected. It had been home mostly to tum-

bledown old shacks, rotting warehouses, and long- dead factories.

Now gangs of men moved with purpose, most in orange vests,

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and bulldozers noisily leveled uneven ground and piled up the

shattered remains of brick, wood, and rusted steel. Other teams

were putting up the frames of buildings in areas that had already

been cleared. Beyond, it was obvious that a lot more construction