“Rachel!” Jenks shouted as I hobbled as fast as I could, trying to get between Francis and the door. I was too slow, and Francis cut ahead of me.

“Excuse me, young man?” I warbled, my pulse racing as I reached out for him. “Would you tell me where the baggage area is?”

Francis spun on a quick heel. I struggled not to show my alarm that he might recognize me and my hatred for what he had done. “This is the bus depot, lady,” he said, his thin lips twisted in annoyance. “There is no baggage area. Your stuff is on the curb outside.”

“What’s that?” I said loudly, mentally cursing Edden. Where the hell was he? I grabbed Francis arm in a tight grip, and he looked down at my spell-wrinkled hand.

“It’s outside!” he shouted, trying to tug away, reeling as my perfume hit him.

But I wouldn’t let go. From the corner of my sight I saw Nick beside the candy machine, staring blankly at my empty seat. His gaze rove over the people, finally catching mine. His eyes widened. He darted to Edden.

Francis had tucked his papers under his arm and was using his other hand to try and pry my fingers from him. “Lemme go, lady,” he said. “There’s no baggage claim.”

My fingers cramped, and he jerked away. Panicking, I watched him tug his shirt straight. “Freaky old bat,” he said with a huff. “What do you old hags do, swim in your perfume?” Then his mouth dropped open. “Morgan,” he hissed, recognizing me. “He told me you were dead.”

“I am,” I said, my knees threatening to buckle. I was up on adrenaline alone.

His stupid grin told me he had no idea what was going on. “You’re coming with me. Denon will give me a promotion when he sees you.”

I shook my head. I had to do this by the book or Edden would be ticked. “Francis Percy, under the authority of the FIB, I am charging you with conspiring to willfully run biodrugs.”

His grin vanished as his face went white under his ugly stubble. His gaze darted over my shoulder to the counter. “Shit,” he swore, turning to run.

“Stop!” Edden cried out, too far back to be any good.

I lunged at Francis, grabbing the back of his knees. We went down in a painful thump. Francis squirmed, kicking me in the chest as he tried to get away. I gasped, hurting.

A whoosh of air streaked over us where my head had been. I jerked my attention up. Stars crossed my vision as Francis struggled to escape.

No, I thought as a blue ball of flame smashed into the far wall and exploded. Those stars were real.

The ground shook at the force of the blast. Women and children screamed, falling back to press against the walls. “What was that?” Francis stammered. He twisted under me, and for a heartbeat we watched, mesmerized, as the flickering blue flame plastered itself in a sunburst across the ugly yellow wall until it folded back in on itself and vanished with a pop.