I looked over the heads to where the mounted police usually hung out. Sure enough, there were two very unhappy horses, an FIB van, and a bunch of FIB guys clustered around something. A plan to get the people out of here, maybe.

“How am I going to get over there?” I muttered, gaze roving over the square. The huge vid screen was now showing the Cincy arena. The wind down there was intense, blowing the newscaster’s hair everywhere as the dewar began to break up and people began to leave. My breath came easier. Maybe they were evacuating before the crowd decided elves were on a par with biogeneticists and lynched them all. Maybe the vampires were trying to get rid of the elves ... So far, only Felix had died, and he’d been on his way out already.

“It’s God’s will they die!” the zealot was screaming, a harsh contrast to Nina’s powerful anguish. “It’s penance for the atrocities they have perpetrated! Let them be judged!”

Jenks’s dust was a beacon as he hovered over me, looking for the easiest path to the curb. “Ah, Rache? Is that your mom?”

Oh God. I shoved someone, trying to see. My fear redoubled as I spotted her standing on a planter, hand in a fist as she shouted and gestured, calling someone a prejudiced prick and religious hypocrite zealot all in one breath. She looked fantastic in her outrage, and I almost lost sight of her when the crowd shifted. “Mom!” I shouted, then grunted when I got an elbow in the gut from some faceless woman. “Mom!”

She heard me. Somehow she heard me over the noise and confusion. She turned, her face still alight with the fire of battling injustice. Clearly this was where I’d gotten it from, and without even a glance at the stage, she fought her way off the planter and to me.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” I said when she finally got close.

“Oh, you ruined your funeral!” she moaned, giving me a quick hug.

She was okay, and I hugged her back. “Mom. We have to get out of here,” I said, not believing she was worried about my funeral.

“No matter,” she said, beaming as she shoved someone to get a smidgen more room. “The band crapped out on me anyway. Isn’t it a marvelous day for a protest?”

Wincing, I held her shoulder so no one would force us apart. Marvelous wasn’t exactly the word I’d use. Nina was on the bullhorn again. Some were listening raptly, others—mostly human by the look of it—were booing. I could tell who were the living vampires not only because of the way they reacted to Nina but because they looked terrified. It was starting to slide from a mob to a riot. “Jenks? Find Ivy. My car is on Vine.”