Dex’s hands both went to his neck, leaving him completely exposed. Myron wasn’t in the mood to do any serious damage here. He quickly swept the guy’s leg, knocking him to the ground. He turned his attention to Camouflage Pants, but he was having none of it. Maybe it was watching his muscle get taken down so easily. Maybe it was the knowledge of what had happened to his haute couture brethren yesterday at the hands of Win. He ran.

So did Dog Collar.

Damn.

Myron was fast, but as he turned, he felt the old injury tighten his knee joint. Between the plane and the car, he’d probably spent too much time sitting. Should have stretched it more during his walk.

Meanwhile the kid moved like a jackrabbit. He had, Myron surmised, been forced to run a lot, and while Myron might normally sympathize, there was no way he was going to let this lead slip away.

He couldn’t let Dog Collar get too far ahead of him.

If he got too far ahead—if he found people and civilization—Dog Collar would be safe from whatever Myron wanted to, well, do to him. He might also call out for help. These areas had a way of policing their own.

But then again, would a thief trying to roll a guy in a park like this want to draw attention to himself?

It might not matter. Myron was on the path now too, but the kid already had a substantial lead, and that lead seemed to be widening. If Myron lost him, it would be yet another missed opportunity. The ties to what Win had seen yesterday—the ties to Patrick and Rhys—were tenuous at best. If this kid got away, it could be game over.

Dog Collar veered around the street lamp and out of sight. Damn. No chance, Myron thought. No chance of catching up.

And then Dog Collar went flying.

His legs were up in the air, his body horizontal to the ground. Someone had done the simplest thing in the world.

Someone had stuck out his foot and tripped him.

Win.

Dog Collar was splayed on his belly. Myron made the turn. Win barely glanced his way before disappearing into the shadows. Myron hurried over and straddled Dog Collar. He spun him onto his back. Dog Collar covered his face and waited for the blows.

The kid’s voice was pitiful. “Please . . .”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Myron said. “Just calm down. It’s going to be all right.”

It took another few seconds before he lowered his hands away from his face. There were tears in his eyes now.

“I promise,” Myron said, “I’m not going to hurt you. Okay?”

The boy nodded through the tears, but you could see he didn’t believe a word of it. Myron risked rolling off him. He helped him sit up.

“Let’s try this again,” Myron said. “Do you know the boy who ran away yesterday, the one they were fighting over?”