I rush into the room. “Dad!” I call out, but there’s no answer.

Beside me, Ash has his knife drawn and Ines is clutching a blow dart. But I can’t think about weapons right now. All I can think is that there is blood on the floor that belongs to someone, and I hope more than anything that someone isn’t my dad.

I race into the bedroom, which is disconcertingly tidy, with a quilt folded at the bottom of the bed and my dad’s plaid duffel bag, which matches my own, sitting on the floor next to an armoire. My heart sinks. “No,” I say, backing out of the room.

Ash touches my arm. “November—”

But I pull away. “I’m not…This is not…No,” I say, trying to unknow this horror.

I walk back toward the living room, but Ash blocks my path. “Why are you…move, Ash,” I say.

“I need you to listen to me,” he says, his voice demanding my attention. “Whatever happened here happened not long ago.”

I stare at him, trying to take meaning from what he’s saying, but all I can think about is the blood splatter in the living room.

“Which means that we may not have very much time here,” he continues, and his look is hard and serious, not soft and comforting like a non-Strategia’s would be. “The Lions will be coming back to scrub this place clean and go through your father’s things. This is our only chance to search the apartment ourselves and we need your help. You’re the only one who would know if your dad left you something.”

The instant Ash suggests it, some of the emotional fog clears.

“Right,” I say, my voice tight. “I understand.”

Ash steps out of my way after giving me an assessing look and we move back into the living room.

Ines is bending down near the floor, inspecting a few drops of blood on the wood. “I would say this happened no more than an hour ago,” she says. “The blood is still fresh.”

“No wonder Jag gave that speech,” Aarya says, walking around the room, taking in all of the toppled furniture. “The Ferryman was probably en route as he spoke.” She turns from one side to the next and chops her hand in the air, like she’s simulating the altercation. “If I had to guess, though, the Ferryman wasn’t alone. I would say that there were three or four people in this fight, based on the wreckage and the locations of the blood.”

Ines nods her agreement.