My eyebrows rose. “Anything?”

He nodded.

“Even my ink?” I flashed him the Eye of Horus on my palm.

“When you’re close enough.” He shrugged. “It’s a pretty small amount.”

“Huh.” I sheathed the invisible sword after only two tries and hugged the whole thing to my chest, feeling a little less alone. Nik had done this for me, and now it would be like I carried a little piece of him around with me, wherever I went. That mattered more to me than I was willing to admit, even just to myself.

“Thank you,” I said, meeting his eyes and hoping he couldn’t see how intensely his gift was affecting me. I cleared my throat. “Really, Nik. Thank you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, and he breathed out a laugh. It was the only “You’re welcome” I would get. He pointed to the gateway with his chin. “Go on. Do your thing. I’ve got a ferry to catch.”

I stared at him for a moment longer, then took a deep breath, held my head high, and turned my back to him. And stepped through the new gateway.

Chapter Eleven

By the time I’d returned to Garth’s condo and checked his cell phone, I had a series of texts from him, each with the name and home address of one of the Ouroboros board members. He’d sent them within the past half hour, and his timing was impeccable. Any longer and I’d have made a straight shot for Constance. And despite my renewed motivation to do what had to be done, no matter the cost, I wasn’t ready to go after her. Even after the reading that morning, after her appearance on the Queen of Swords card with Mercy shoved through her chest. Even though I now held the sword that had impaled her in my hands, I wasn’t ready to go after her to get the cure.

Sure, if push came to shove, I’d do it. But I didn’t want to, and I knew I’d regret whatever I ended up doing to her for the rest of my potentially very long life.

I did a quick Internet search on Garth’s phone, running down the list of names he’d sent me. I was hoping for a sign, some tidbit of information that would point me in the right direction. Or, at least, in the least guilt-ridden direction. I was fully committed to the cause, ready and willing to use lethal force if necessary. I would find a way to stop the spread of the disease and save those unfortunate enough to already be infected. At least, those who weren’t already too far gone. It was too late for Sammy, but it wasn’t too late for the others. Not yet.

I found my target as soon as I hit enter on the third name—Mitch Carmichael. The list of links included several news articles from the past year reporting allegations that Carmichael’s name had been linked to an illegal human trafficking ring, one that specialized in young women and children. It looked like his name had been cleared and the matter had been swept under the rug, as almost anything could be if enough money was thrown at it, but things like that don’t just disappear. Not now, in the age of the Internet. Nowadays, things like that live forever.