A hint of a smile drifted over Edden. “It still remains that she assaulted FIB personnel,” he said. “My hands are tied concerning Tamwood. We aren’t equipped to deal with Inderlanders.” He hesitated. “Would you come with me to my office? We can discuss your options.”

My worry deepened; Denon would love to get Ivy incarcerated dead to rights. Nick handed me my bag, and I nodded. This was not good. It almost seemed as if Edden had goaded Ivy into losing her temper to get me to come down here with my hat in my hand. But I followed Edden to a glass-walled corner office off the lobby. At first it looked tucked out of the way, but with the blinds up, he would have a view of everything. Right now, they were closed to make his corner less of a fishbowl than it was. He left the door open, and the noise filtered in.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the two green upholstered chairs opposite his desk. I gratefully sat, finding the flat padding marginally more comfortable than the plastic chairs in the lobby. As Nick stiffly lowered himself, I ran my eyes over Edden’s office, noting the dust-covered bowling trophies and stacks of folders. File cabinets lined one wall, photo albums stacked on top of them to nearly the ceiling. A clock hung behind Edden’s desk, ticking loudly. There was a picture of him and my old boss, Denon, shaking hands outside City Hall. Edden looked short and common next to Denon’s vampire grace. They were both smiling.

I brought my attention back to Edden. He was slouched in his chair, clearly waiting for me to finish my evaluation of his office. If he cared to ask, I would have told him he was a slob. But his office had a cluttered efficiency about it that said real work was done here. It was as far from Denon’s gadget-strewn, sterile office as my old desk was from a churchyard. I liked it. If I had to trust someone, I’d rather it be someone as unorganized as me.

Edden pulled himself straight. “I’ll admit my conversation with Tamwood was intriguing, Ms. Morgan,” he said. “As a former I.S. operative, I’m sure you know what bringing Trent Kalamack in under the suspicion of anything—much less manufacturing and distributing illegal bioproducts—could do for the FIB’s image.”

Right to the point. Snap my fingers if I wasn’t starting to like this guy. Still I said nothing as my stomach knotted. He wasn’t done.

Edden put an arm on his desk, hiding his sling in his lap. “But you understand I can’t ask my people to arrest Councilman Kalamack under the advice of a former I.S. runner. You’re under a death threat, illegal or not.”

My breathing quickened to match my whirling thoughts. I had been right. He had thrown Ivy into custody to get me down here. For one panicked instant I wondered if he was stalling me. If he had the I.S. on their way to tag me. The thought vanished in a painful rush of adrenaline. The FIB and the I.S. were in a bitter rivalry. If Edden was going to claim the bounty on my head, he’d do it himself, not invite the I.S. into his building. Edden had brought me down here to evaluate me. For what? I wondered, my worry tightening.