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Four 

The morgue was quiet and cool, a quick shift from July to September, and I was glad I had jeans on. My sandals popped against the dirty cement steps as I descended sideways, and the fluorescent light in the stairway only added to the bleak feeling. Jenks was on my shoulder for the warmth, and Gle

Between the underground dimness and Gle

I didn't do much for the FIB, but somehow I had become their darling, the poor little witch girl who fled the I.S. tyra

It was the small things that really made your day.

Gle

The blond kid looked up at our entrance and, after giving me the once-over, set his game down and stood. It smelled in here: pine and dead tissue. Yuck.

"Yo, Iceman," Gle

"Gle

Gle

"You cool. Just make it fast." He handed Gle

I gave him an ambiguous smile and headed for another set of double doors.

"Miss!" the kid called, his adopted colorful accent dissolving into farm-boy Americana.

Jenks snickered. "Someone wants a date."

Sandals scuffing, I turned to find Iceman following us. "Ms. Morgan," the guy said, his eyes dropping to my twin name tags. "If you don't mind. Could you leave your coffee out here?" At my blank look, he added, "It might wake someone up early, and with the vamp orderly out getting lunch, it would…" He winced. "It might be bad."

My lips parted in understanding. "Sure," I said, handing it to him. "No problem."

Immediately he relaxed. "Thanks." He turned back to his desk, then hesitated. "Ah, you aren't Rachel Morgan, the ru

From my shoulder Jenks sniggered. "My, aren't we the famous one."

But I beamed, facing the kid fully as Gle



Iceman's hands were warm, and his eyes gave away his delight. "Ace," he said, jiggling on his feet. "Wait here. I've got something for you."

Gle

Jenks left my shoulder, shocking Iceman out of a year's growth when he landed on my wrist so he could see it. I don't think he'd even known that Jenks was here. "Holy crap, Rachel!" Jenks exclaimed. "It's got your name on it! In ink, even." He lifted into the air, laughing. "Isn't that sweet?" he mocked, but the guy was too flustered to notice.

A toe tag? I held it loosely in my hand, bemused. "Uh, thanks," I managed.

Gle

Relaxing in understanding, I tucked it in my bag. "Yes, thank you," I said, then touched his shoulder so he'd know it was okay. "Thank you very much."

"Can we go in now?" Gle

Actually, I was really glad to have the toe tag. It had been made with the intent for use and therefore was imbued with a strong co

Past the door was another, to make an airlock of sorts. The smell of dead things grew, and Jenks landed on my shoulder, standing right by my ear and the dab of perfume I'd put on earlier. "Spend a lot of time down here?" I asked Gle

"Fair amount." He wasn't looking at me, more interested in the numbers and index cards slid into the holders fastened to the people-size drawer doors. I was getting the creeps. I'd never been to the city morgue before, and I dubiously eyed the arrangement of comfortable chairs around a coffee table at the far end that looked like a reception area at a doctor's office.

The room was long, having four rows of drawers on either side of the wide middle space. It was storage and self-repair only, no autopsies, necropsies, or assisted tissue repair. Humans on one side, Inderlanders on the other, though Ivy had told me they all had pull tabs inside in case of accidental misfiling.

I followed Gle

Monday. As in yesterday? "The full moon isn't until next week," I said, avoiding the sheet-draped body. "Isn't that early for a Were suicide?"

I met his deep brown eyes, reading a sad understanding. "That's what I thought, too."

Not knowing what I would see, I looked down as Gle

"Holy crap!" Jenks exclaimed. "Mr. Ray's secretary?"

A sour expression fixed on me. When had being a secretary become a high-risk position? No way had Vanessa committed suicide. She wasn't an alpha, but she was pretty damn close.

Gle