Living with the Dead

Colm tried to bolt, but the man landed in his path. His eyes met Colm's and something shamefully like a whimper bubbled in the boy's throat. The man lifted his chin. A slight tilt of the head, raising his nose, nostrils flaring… and Colm knew what was standing in front of him. A werewolf.

Colm's insides liquefied and a few drops trickled down his leg. The werewolf's nostrils flared again, as if he could smell Colm's humiliation.

The man lifted a finger, a subtle "wait" to someone. Colm noticed the pretty girl from the apartment on the fence. The man kept his gaze locked with Colm's.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said. "We just need to talk."

Colm's gaze shunted to the side, looking and praying for Adele.

"She's gone," said the girl from her fence-top post. "We just want to talk. We can go someplace that you'll feel safe, someplace public – "

Colm bolted. He knew it was useless. The man was a werewolf – he could lunge and break Colm's neck before he made it five feet. When he didn't, he glanced back to see the man still standing where he'd left him.

As Colm turned, he saw why. A middle-aged man stood in the medical building lot, his key fob extended, now stopped to watch what was unfolding at the fence line.

Colm checked over his shoulder one more time, then broke into a full out run for the building. The man in the parking lot watched Colm, his key fob still in hand, other reaching toward his car door. When Colm reached the building door, the man nodded, as if he'd done his duty, seen the boy to safety. He opened his car door.

Colm reached for the building door. If it was locked, he'd run to the man in the car, make up some story. If it opened, that meant there were more people inside and he could hide there.

He pulled the door. It swung open. He ran through.

FINN

In police college, one of Fi

The human brain is designed to make co

Standing on the sidewalk, looking up at Nast corporate headquarters and instantly disliking it, Fi

The building a

Fi

He doubted it.

Though it was Sunday, the lobby lights blazed. When he pulled a door open, it made a sucking sound, as if the vestibule was vacuum sealed. Past the second set of doors, a young man sat behind a stainless steel desk that bore an unca

Fi

He couldn't help thinking of those movies where a guy walks into a tiny room that seals behind him and slowly fills with poisonous gas. The faintly metallic smell of the cold air blowing down on him didn't help. Nor did the guy at the desk, who watched him, blank-faced as a cyborg.

Fi

Fi

"Huh," Fi

"A joke? I'm impressed. We'll need to work on your delivery, though. Right now…" Damon rapped his knuckles against the invisible barrier. "Small problem."

"Is this what happens when Robyn's around?"

Damon's eyes lit with hope, then it faded. "Nah. With Robyn, I get relocated, like a raccoon wandering into the city. I'll look for another way in."

When Fi

The guard made no move to come to the door or turn on the intercom and ask Fi

As Fi

"Nast Corporation. How may I help you?"

Fi

For almost twenty seconds, the man sat there, as if waiting for a better explanation. Finally, he pressed another button and the door opened.

As Fi

"I'm looking for this man." Fi

The guard's gaze flickered across the image. "I couldn't say, sir. The photo quality appears degraded."

"Let's pretend it is Mr. Nast, then. I need to speak to him. His wife said he was in the office this morning."

"Mr. Nast has left for the day."

"Could you check that? Call his office for me?"

Those ball bearings bored holes over Fi

"All right. Then I'll take his cell phone number."

"I'm not at liberty to divulge that information."

"This is a matter of some delicacy," Fi

"Mr. Nast has left for the day. I don't expect him to return. It's Sunday."

"Which is why I'm asking for his number."

The guard checked his display screen. "Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. Nast is unavailable this weekend."

"Has he left town?"

The young man's lips pressed together for – yes, Fi

At the sound of footsteps, Fi