She got up and fled out of the room.

• • •

BARABAS SHOWED ME to one of the conference rooms. Jim was already there, leaning against the wall, like a grim shadow, his eyes hard. Uh-oh.

“How did you get him on the phone?” I asked.

“I had two of our people walk into his office and refuse to leave,” Jim said. “He was there all morning.”

Gray had been ducking our calls. That was exactly what I didn’t want to hear. I landed in a chair and pushed the button on speaker.

“Detective Gray.”

“Hello, Kate.”

“You’re a hard man to find.”

“What do you want?” Gray sounded tired.

“I want to surrender a suspect implicated in the murder of Mulradin Grant to your custody.”

Silence.

More silence.

I imagined a hole suddenly manifesting under Gray’s feet and swallowing him whole. The way my day had been going so far, I wouldn’t be surprised.

“We are not aware of any murder,” Gray said.

Aha. “I’m making you aware of it now. Mr. Grant is dead, he was murdered by a shapeshifter, and a member of the Pack has been implicated in this murder. I’m reaching out to you and offering to surrender her to your custody.”

“This is a jurisdictional issue,” Gray said. “The Keep is in DeKalb County.”

Are you kidding me? “The murder was committed in Atlanta’s city limits.”

“The alleged murder.”

Argh. I leaned closer to the phone. “We’ve always strived to maintain good relations with the PAD. Last year alone we’ve assisted you on—”

Jim raised nine fingers.

“—on nine cases. I’m asking you to help us.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry,” Gray said. “I can’t.”

The rage swelled inside me like a wave. My voice shook slightly. “I’m about to have a bloodbath on my hands.”

Gray lowered his voice. “This is coming down from above. We can’t get involved in a war between the Pack and the People. We don’t have the numbers or the firepower. We’d be slaughtered. I’m sorry, but this is between you and them.”

He wouldn’t help us. “You had a chance to make a difference today and you stepped back. Your authority is only good if you do something with it, and you chose to do nothing. Do that enough times and pretty soon nobody will acknowledge it at all. The next time you need my help, don’t call.”

I disconnected the call.

“Diplomatic,” Barabas said.

“Fuck diplomatic.”

The phone rang. I picked it up.

“This is a jurisdictional issue,” Gray said, his voice strained. “We have no jurisdiction over the Keep.”

He hung up.

Okay. “Who has jurisdiction over us?” I asked the room.

“Most of our lands are in DeKalb County,” Barabas said. “A little bit of Clayton, too.”

Neither the DeKalb nor Clayton County sheriff would help us. DeKalb didn’t care for us, and Clayton was severely understaffed.