“Sorry!” the man from the window called. “It was an accident.”

I put my hand over my face. Next to me, Julie pressed her lips together and was making small meowing noises trying not to laugh.

The door of Biohazard flew open and Patrice Lane, the head of the Infectious Diseases department, emerged with a gaggle of her techs behind her.

“Alright, where is he? I’m charged with Staphylococcus. Give me two seconds, and he’ll be covered in boils. He’ll tell us everything.”

“He got away,” a dark-haired woman explained.

“What?” Patrice blinked.

Julie bent in half and began snorting.

“Stop that,” Luther told her.

A man walked out of the shadows. He wore jeans and a brown jacket with a hood that right now rested on his back. Of medium height, he had light brown, slightly curly hair and a pleasant, friendly face with hooded blue eyes, a big nose, and the stubbly beginning of a mustache and beard. There was something vaguely familiar about his eyes.

He came over to me. “Consort. It’s such an honor to meet again. Oops. Shouldn’t have called you that.” He had a light Irish accent.

“She might not remember you,” Julie said. “She—”

“Jardin,” I said. The last time we had met he was in his wererat form and I almost stabbed him. He worked for Robert, Alpha of Clan Rat and the Pack’s current security chief.

“Ah,” Jardin said. “You remember. I am so flattered.”

“Who is he?” Luther demanded. “Who are you?”

“It’s not him,” the dark-haired woman said. “The other guy was older and taller and wore black.”

“He’s a member of the Pack,” I told him.

“Oh. Wait!” Luther’s eyes lit up. “Can you track?”

“Yes.” Jardin nodded.

“Great. A man ran out of here. Do you have his scent?”

“Sure,” Jardin said. “I saw him and I can smell him, but you see, you won’t catch him.”

“What?” the man in a suit demanded. “Why?”

“He had a horse.”

“A horse?” Luther waved his arms. “We have several advanced vehicles. We can beat a horse. With all of us chanting, we can start it in under three minutes.”

Ha. If more than one person chanted, the cars started faster. Why hadn’t I ever tried this? I filed that tidbit away for further study.

“It was a very fast horse,” Jardin said.

“How fast?” the dark-haired woman asked.

The wererat smiled. “It had wings.”

The street turned completely silent.

“Beautiful black wings,” Jardin said.

So. We had an ifrit holding Eduardo at some undisclosed location and our only lead had flown away on a winged horse.

Everybody spoke at once. The mages waved their arms.

Luther’s voice cut through it. “I’ll call the Order.”

Really? I raised my eyebrow.

“Sorry, Daniels,” Luther said. “It’s protocol. We need the heavy artillery now.”

I stepped away and smiled at Jardin. “Black horse?”

“Yes.” He nodded.