“I don’t need—” I bit off the sharp words and managed a softer, “I’m fine, Karl. Really. Just go.”

His look said he expected me to collapse from chaos overdose the moment he turned his back.

“Go,” I said between my teeth. “I’m fine.”

He left. I rubbed my arms, struggling to stay alert. Fight the fatigue. Experience it, learn from it, then push it aside.

“We need to move now,” a voice said. “Go to the warehouse, get the equipment and strike.”

I was ready to bolt, my tired brain misidentifying the sound as something I was hearing with my ears, not my mind. When I realized otherwise, I closed my eyes and concentrated.

“But if they took Faith after they knocked me out—” Tony’s voice.

“All the more reason to move.” Guy.

“I tried calling her—”

“Her phone switches straight to voice mail. Whoever took her must have it and turned it off.”

Where were they? I couldn’t tell. No, wait, if I couldn’t hear them with my ears, then they weren’t that close.

I took out my panic button, just in case.

“Are you up for it?” Guy asked. “How’s the head?”

“Pounding like a son-of-a-bitch, but those Tylenols should kick in soon. I’m not backing out, if that’s what you’re asking. Those bastards have three of our guys, and we’re getting them back. I’d love to know what attacked me, though. What’s that strong? Werewolf?”

“The Cabals don’t hire werewolves.”

The voice faded. I hurried to the end of the hall, hoping to pick them up again, but either they were too far away or the chaos had faded from the exchange. I ran back and found Karl shuffling through a filing cabinet.

“They’re leaving,” I said. “Did you find what you wanted?”

He smacked the drawer shut in response.

“They must have taken it,” I said. “I’m going to follow them. If you want to keep looking—”

He strode past me and waved for me to fall in behind him. As much as I longed to lead, I couldn’t argue with the logic of putting the guy with superhuman hearing and strength in front.

Guy and Tony—and presumably Max and Rodriguez—were gone. That meant Karl had to track them by scent. Easy enough inside. Once outside, though, even if he’d been comfortable sniffing the ground, he couldn’t do it without attracting a lot of attention. So it was slow going. When the sidewalk branched, he had to stoop and tie his shoe to figure out which way they’d gone. Finally, the trail ended…in the delivery lane where Guy usually parked.

He paced, stopping every few steps to sniff the ground, as if hoping he was mistaken about the obvious answer.

Finally he straightened and said, “Gone.”