That turned out to be a group of grain storage elevators next to a defunct railroad track. The area around the tall silos was deserted, and I didn’t hear any activity inside them, which meant I didn’t have to worry about being covert. I plowed into the soft earth behind the storage silos, landing even harder than my usual barely controlled splat. Dave, my unlucky passenger, let out more “oofs!” during our tumble than he had when Bones had cut his heart out.

“I call shotgun with anyone but her for the next flight,” he said when we finally rolled to a stop.

Then a scream jerked our attention about half a mile up. Tate rushed toward us, arms flailing as if he were trying to flap his way out of his free fall. It didn’t work, of course. He landed with enough force to create an inches-deep outline in the soft ground around him.

“Okay, shotgun with anyone except him, too,” Dave amended, as Ian floated down to land beside the Tate-sized hole. Bones landed next, but unlike Ian, he held on to his passenger the entire time.

“Ass . . . hole,” Tate groaned as he pushed himself upright, to the accompanying sound of multiple bones snapping back into place.

Bones glanced at Tate, then Ian, who didn’t bother to hide his smirk.

“Good to know you stuck by your word to let his assault slide,” Bones said with heavy sarcasm.

That smirk turned into a wolfish grin. “Changed my mind, Crispin.”

Spade’s arrival with Denise and Cooper cut short whatever Bones had been about to reply to that.

“He’s very weak,” Spade announced, still holding on to Cooper despite their now being on solid ground. “I gave him blood, but whatever experiments they’ve run on him is killing him.”

I went over to Cooper, noting the cloying aroma of sickness that overpowered his natural scent of cloves and oak moss. Even with the healing effects of vampire blood, his skin tone still held a grayish tone, and his obsidian gaze appeared slightly unfocused.

“Remember when I used to call you a freak?” he asked, his laugh wheezing a bit at the end. “What they’ve done to me makes you seem normal.”

I swallowed back the lump that rose in my throat. “Madigan tried to duplicate Katie’s tri-species nature with you, didn’t he?”

Another harsh chuckle. “Yep, but it didn’t work. Not on me or the two thousand unlucky bastards before me. Madigan kept hoping for another fluke like Katie, but he must’ve needed more of whatever he took from you years ago to make it work. That, or wait ’til Katie got older.”

I knew what that last part meant—forcible breeding. Madigan had intended to do the same to me, so while it made me sick, it didn’t shock me. The number Cooper relayed did.