“How’s your stomach?” I whispered. “Do you feel sick?”

“Queasy, but I think that’s from my head.”

I told him what happened. When I finished, his eyes widened.

“The homeless guy. Shit! I found him just after I got here. Even gave him some money trying to get him to leave.” He shook his head. “You said the guard’s dead?”

I nodded. “Cody, too.”

“Cody? I never even saw him. The guard was alive when I got here. I had to sneak around to avoid him. I got a lead on those pharmaceuticals. That’s not only Cody’s illegal enterprise—it’s his supernatural connection. He’s selling cut-rate drugs to supernaturals and raking in a massive profit.”

“Taking advantage of our problems visiting doctors.”

“Right. That’s where Tiffany came in. She set everything up. Her and another supernatural named Timothy Greer. I’m guessing he’s playing the homeless guy. He must have killed Ginny and Brandi because—”

“Not Ginny and Brandi. They were—Never mind. It’s not important now. We need to find Adam.”

“Right.”

I tried to help him to his feet, but lost my balance, and he had to grab and steady me.

“Are you okay?” he whispered. “I’ve never seen anyone actually look green.”

“Poison, I think.”

“What?”

I told him what Adam and I thought was happening, then warned him not to count on my spells.

“Okay,” he said. “We need to find Adam and get you to a doctor.”

We’d gone about ten feet when Jesse pointed at smudged grease on a machine.

“Someone brushed against that,” he said. “This way.”

I bent to examine the spot. “There’s dust on it. Someone brushed against it a while ago.”

He leaned over and frowned. “I don’t see any dust.”

“It’s—Never mind.”

Jesse led the way, picking up more signs, most too faint for me to see. I stayed behind him. He tried a few times to get me to go ahead. “I should be watching your back if your spells are failing.” But I said no, and we kept going.

We’d been searching for about ten minutes when he froze.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered.

I shook my head.

“Over there.” He waved into the darkness under a conveyer belt.

“You hide there,” he said. “I’m going to check it out.”

I crawled into the space. Once he’d slipped around the corner, I snuck across the aisle and ducked behind another piece of machinery, something with knobs and dials.

I was squeezing behind it, my stomach protesting, when I caught a flicker of motion across the way. A crate resting atop the conveyer belt wiggled. Then it toppled, hitting the floor with a resounding crash ... and blocking the space I’d just crawled out of.