Grief and rage. They mixed and swirled within him. He wanted to pull over to the curb and bury his face in his arms and weep like a baby. He wanted to ram his fist through the windshield again and again.

Vicky! He was never going to see her again, never do the orange mouth gag, never paint up his hand like Moony for her, never—

Stop it!

He had to stay in control, had to look strong. For Gia’s sake. If anyone else had told him that Vicky was missing, he might have gone berserk. But he had remained calm for Gia. He couldn’t let her guess what he knew. She wouldn’t believe him anyway. Who would? He’d have to break it to her slowly… in stages… tell her about what he had seen, what he had learned in the past week.

Jack drove relentlessly through the near empty streets, slowing but never stopping for red lights. It was two a.m. on a Wednesday morning and there was still traffic about, but not enough to matter. He was headed downtown… all the way downtown.

His instincts insisted that Kusum would not leave without the Mother rakosh. He would not want to wait too far from Manhattan. To sail on, even at bottom speed, would mean outdistancing the Mother and leaving her behind. According to Kolabati, the Mother was the key to controlling the nest. So Kusum would wait. But Kusum didn’t know that the Mother wasn’t coming. Jack was coming instead.

He spoke as calmly as he could as he raced through Times Square, past Union Square, past City Hall, past Trinity Church, ever southward, all the while telling them about an Indian man named Kusum—the one Gia had met at the U.K. reception—whose ancestors were murdered by a Westphalen well over a century ago. This Kusum had come to New York with a ship full of seven- and eight-foot creatures called rakoshi whom he sent out to capture the last members of the Westphalen family.

There was silence in the cab of the panel truck when he finished his story. He glanced over to Gia and Abe. Both were staring at him, their expressions alarmed, their eyes wary.

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “That’s just the way I’d look at somebody who told me what I just told you But I’ve been in that ship. I’ve seen. I’m stuck with it.”

Still they said nothing.

And I didn’t even tell them about the necklace.

“It’s true, damn it!” he shouted. He pulled the Mother’s scorched fangs and talons from his pocket and pressed them into Gia’s hand. “Here’s all that’s left of one.”

Gia passed them over to Abe without even looking at them. “Why shouldn’t I believe you? Vicky was taken through a window twelve stories up!” She clutched at Jack’s arm. “But what does he want with them?”

Jack swallowed spasmodically, unable to speak for a moment. Vicky’s dead! How could he possibly tell her that?