THE MAZIKIN GRUNTED AS the knife plunged in at an upward angle, just below her ribs. Jim shouted in surprise and jerked back, ripping it from her body in a way that probably did more damage than good. She gave a gurgling sigh and slumped over while blood poured over the backseat.

“Put pressure on that wound!” I shouted, turning around to start the car.

Jim felt for a pulse. “I think she’s dead. I’m sorry, Captain.”

I exhaled a sharp breath through my nose. Now we had a dead hooker in our car. Awesome. For a few seconds I debated dumping her, but the physical evidence … our skin was under her fingernails. Our fingerprints were all over her. And mine, at least, were on record. “Take off your sweatshirt and cover her,” I ordered. “Get her on the floor. We’re going back to the Guard house.”

Jim obeyed wordlessly, blood oozing lazily from the claw marks on the left side of his handsome face. I stripped off my own sweatshirt and handed it back to him. “Cover that wound on your face, at least while we drive through the city. And pray we don’t get stopped by the cops.”

We made it back to the Guard house less than twenty minutes later. Raphael was waiting for us. He looked entirely undisturbed as Jim slowly and clumsily climbed out of the backseat, his shirt and pants soaked and sticky with the Mazikin’s blood.

“Go inside, Jim,” he said. “Get washed up quickly, and then I’ll heal you. The scarring won’t be bad if we do it soon.”

Jim walked into the house while Raphael peered into the backseat. “Why did you bring it back here?” he asked casually.

“Because it died in the car. And I was afraid there would be too much evidence if we left it behind. You might be able to protect me from indictment for something I didn’t do, but I don’t see how you can protect me if they find my skin under her fingernails.”

Raphael shrugged. “I can dispose of bodies.” He stood up and closed the car door, like the dead woman in the backseat was of as much concern as a bag of dirty laundry. “You need healing.” He nodded toward my neck.

“Jim goes first. His hand is pretty mangled, and he’s already feeling the effects of the venom.”

I followed Raphael into the house. The sound of the pipes told me that Jim was taking a shower, so I went to the kitchen and got myself a drink of water, and then joined Raphael in the parlor. “So … we met with a Mazikin this afternoon. She had some interesting things to say.”

Raphael gave me a small yet dazzling smile. “What a lovely way of putting it.”

“Was she telling the truth?”

“Only what you need, Lela.”

My fists clenched. “I’m not asking because I need it,” I blurted.