“Fair enough.” He returned his attention to his book. “The goddesses I’m talking about might find you tasty, anyway.”

Her badge chilled. She reached beneath her shirt collar and touched the icon of Justice hanging there. Moonsilver flowed over her mind like a high wave on a north shore beach, and receded, leaving the world darker until it dried. She listened to the hum of distant voices. “Pursuit team just checked in,” she said, interpreting for his benefit. “Maura Varg’s in transit with the funds. You identify her, we go in, take them all at once.”

“I know the plan.”

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Raz turned pages.

“Speaking of creepy,” she said.

“What?”

“Every few seconds I realize I’m the only one here who’s breathing.”

“Lifer sentiment doesn’t become you, Cat. Watch out or I’ll report you to the Association for the Advancement of Undead Peoples.”

“Stuff it.”

He raised one eyebrow and grinned, baring the tips of fangs.

Cat checked the window again. A driverless carriage rolled to the curb and a woman stepped out: tall and weathered, with a thick neck and a sailor’s broad gait, as if she expected the land to betray her at any moment. She wore canvas slacks, leather boots, a shirt patched and repaired with sailcloth, and bore a curved blade through the red sash around her midsection. The only part of the ensemble that did not fit the pirate queen image was the immaculate brown leather briefcase, which cost, Cat ventured, around six hundred thaums. She wondered if the case’s ornaments were gold, decided they were, and ratcheted the value up to an even thousand.

“She’s not even trying to make this hard,” she said. “That’s Varg?” She slid forward on the seat so Raz could check out the window. His body didn’t heat the surrounding air; the long, lean muscles of his flank pressed cold against her back.

He peeked through the shade. He hissed as light struck him—dropped the curtain and rolled back into his seat, digging the heels of his hands into his eyelids. “Godsdamn. Why don’t you people do business at night like normal?”

“Is that her?”

“Yeah. That’s Maura.”

Cat returned to the window. “Looks like a tough customer. How did you two meet, again?”

“Business, way back. She tried to kill me once; I ate her partner.”

“Really?”

“I was young, and we were both sailing for someone I’d rather forget. She was only a privateer in those days. She’s always been vicious, but I never thought she’d stoop to the indenture trade.”

“We’ll stop that.”

“You’d better. There are people in her hold.”