His smile turned to a grin, then a leer.

"Race you," he said.

Jack ran to the edge of the building and then there was nothing beneath his feet but air, and the next rooftop swooped to meet him. He landed and ran on without missing a step. He glanced over his shoulder, saw Tanith Low trying to keep up. She was good, that girl, but this was something Jack was made for. He was the prince of London City. It

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let him go where it let no one else. He knew it like he knew his own face.

The baby's cry came again and he changed direction, heading away from the busier areas, tracking it over the streets and the alleyways. His powerful legs propelled him through the darkness, and he spun and dug his feet into brick. He ran sideways, the length of the building. He saw Tanith, moving on a parallel course, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, trying to intercept him before he reached his goal.

One last cry from the baby, and Jack zeroed in on an open window, high above street level. He made a series of small jumps, building his momentum. He saw Tanith out of the corner of his eye, sprinting to catch up. Too slow, he thought to himself. He leaped from one side of the street to the other and dived straight in, clearing the window and going for the crib.

But the crib held only blankets, and the room was dark and unfurnished, not like a baby's room at all, and why had the window been open, it wasn't warm enough to have the window open--

The baby's cry, much louder, was coming from a small device that sat near the window.

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It was a trap. She had tricked him.

He moved to the window, but she had walked up the side of the building and was climbing through.

"Out there," she said, "in the open air, I didn't have a hope of catching you. But in here, in a confined space? You're all mine, ugly."

Jack panicked, went to the door, but it wouldn't budge; there was a sheen to it he could see, even in the darkness, and he knew it would withstand whatever he had to throw at it. He whirled. The only way out was the window-- the window that Tanith Low now guarded. She laid her sword on the ground and took off her coat. Her tunic was sleeveless and her arms were strong. She rolled her neck, loosening up her shoulders, and nodded to him.

"Now," she said, "finally. Come and have a go, if you think you're hard enough."