Redemption Alley

“Come on. Shen’s going to kill me, this is the only chance I’ve got. I’m trading this for some kind of protection. They say you’re fair.”

Goddamn Traders. “Who says?”

“They. You know, them. Everyone.”

“They say I’m fair?” Now that’s news. Traders saying I’m fair?

“Mostly. I’ll tell you something else if you protect me.”

I eyed her in the gloom. The taint of Hell on her aura and that ratlike gleam in her pretty eyes told me not to trust her as far as I could throw her over my shoulder with a broken arm, but I was holding most of the cards here. She was right. Shen An Dua wouldn’t take this Trader back unless it was to make an example of her, both for consorting with me and for being party to Shen’s humiliation.

Which made Irene officially my problem. Except she was a Trader. And there was still a very significant unanswered question.

“Does it have anything to do with one of Shen’s people trying to kill me in my own house?”

For a moment, something hunted flashed in her dark, liquid eyes. She lowered the unlit cigarette. “To kill you?”

Bingo. She knew something about it. This was looking up. “Yeah, a blond scarecrow. I’d be insulted, except it’s easier when they send stupid-ass kids to kill me instead of people I’d have to work up a sweat over.” My fingertips tapped the whip’s handle, a solid comfort. “So, any light you can shed on this?”

“A blond… Fairfax? Why would she…” Now her hands were limp as boned fish at her sides. Her mouth loosened a little, and the shock made her seem more human. “He’s… dead?”

Fairfax? What a name. “I don’t play pattycake when murder comes calling, sweetheart.” It answered a question—Shen had wanted me dead, but not enough to send a ’breed with the balls to do it. Or maybe she just wanted me looking somewhere, and the blond ’breed was supposed to send me in another direction. I hadn’t given him enough time to lie to me.

Irene actually staggered, as if the heels had been too much for her. “He was…” It was a bare whisper. “He wasn’t there to kill you. If he managed to get out he was there to warn you. One of the higher-ups wants you dead for interfering with an experiment.”

Huh? Then why did he jump me? “What kind of experiment, and why would Shen warn me?”

“Maybe he escaped. But Shen might send him, if she didn’t need him anymore. And she’s got a grudge against the owner of the Monde.”

“Perry?” Well, who else? “He’s involved? What kind of experiment?”

The air swirled with darkness and the scar on my wrist tingled. Irene actually flinched when I said his name.

I didn’t blame her one bit.

“I don’t know. Fairfax is dead?” The green tone was back under her paleness, pronounced even in the dark. And the hard, calculating gleam had fled her face. “My God.”

Well, at least that solves one mystery. Why are there other hellbreed at my house, though? “Sorry.” I didn’t feel sorry, but she looked so lost for a moment I almost couldn’t help myself. “Look…” What are you about to do, Jill? This is madness. She’s a Trader, goddammit!

But still, she’d made the right choice, taking Carp to the hospital. Sure, she’d done it because I told her she was next if he died—but still. It had to count for something, didn’t it?

“Do you have what you want?” Her shoulders sagged, she dropped into her heels. “If you do, I’ll be going back to the club.”

What? “What the hell for? You just said Shen’s going to kill you.”

Her shoulders hunched. “If Fax is dead, I don’t care.”

Say what? “Oh, please. We’re talking about a hellbreed, right?” I watched her flinch, dropping her gaze to the floor as her lips twitched. Can it, Jill. Stick to the matter at hand. “What kind of experiment, and who was ru

“Fax might have known. I don’t.” She glanced at me sidelong. A bleeding, shifting light had lit far behind her eyes. Did she actually look relieved? “Are you done?”

All my chimes rang at once. Not even close. Not until I’m sure you’re not hiding anything. And not until I’m sure you’re telling the truth. “You’re staying here for the time being. How far is Perry involved in this? Is he the one who wants me dead?”

“No, it’s one of the other higher-ups.” Irene shivered. Now tears glimmered in the corners of her wide eyes. One had even tracked down her cheek, and I couldn’t tell if it was grief or relief, her face was changing so fast. “But if you, say, owed Shen a favor, she could use it to her advantage against the owner of the Monde. She’d like that.”

I eyed her. The idea that she might know a few things about how Perry interacted with the other hellbreed in Santa Luz was… intriguing, to say the least. Not to mention the “higher-ups.” That was worth a good hour or two of hard questioning.

An hour or two I didn’t have. But Galina would keep her here for me, all safe and warm.

“Jill.” Leon stepped out into the shop’s main room. “Everythin’ even, darlin’?”

I don’t know if you could call it that. “Even-steven. Want to go kill some scurf and find out why someone’s shipping them?”

“Can’t wait.” His eyes narrowed as he took in the Trader, who slumped, splay-footed, on her high heels. “What are you go

“She may be useful.” I hated the words. It was the sort of thing a hellbreed would say. “How’s Carper?”

“If he can pull through, Galina will pull him through. He seems okay.” My fellow hunter shrugged. “We going?”

“Certainly.” I weighed every priority I had, found each one jostling with the others, and wished wringing my hands was an option. “Let’s roll.”

Chapter Twenty-one

The aftermath of a scurf fight isn’t pretty. There’s slime all over everything; most of it breaks down into powder but it will steam on any night under seventy degrees. The footing is treacherous, and everything that can be broken probably is. Weres are very rarely messy, but scurf are not the neatest kills in the world.

They just won’t stop wiggling.

We arrived too late for any of the fun, and the Weres were gone. Instead, the warehouses were a shambles, the rail doors dented as if stroked a good one from inside by a huge hammer. There was a smell of fur and clean fury lying over the choking terrible candied sweetness of scurf, and Leon was pale as we started checking, covering each other.

Nothing living remained. The Weres had done a good job, and I could see where the battle had been particularly fierce. I hoped nobody else had died.

“Huh.” Leon lowered Rosita. “Would you look at that.”

The slime was merely a thin scattering near the rail doors—a spur here joined a yard about a hundred feet away. One of the doors was half-open; we ducked out into the cold and examined the tracks.

They weren’t brand spanking new, but they weren’t disused either. Our eyes met, and Leon’s mouth firmed. We slid into the warehouses and he held Rosita pointing straight to the ceiling, gapping his mouth a little bit as he breathed to try and relieve some of the stink. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, darlin’?”

I pointed. “Pens, to hold them? You could herd them out through here.… If you were stupid enough to do so, I guess. But why? And where the fuck are the Weres? There should have been one or two here hanging around, waiting for stragglers—or for me.”

He nodded, curling dark hair flopping into his face. “Yeah. And look here.”

Part of the wreckage was metal gates, chain link knocked down in sheets—and a row of pegs holding slim black cattle prods. Some of them had been knocked down.

“Oh Jesus,” I whispered, nausea biting under my ribs.

“Yeah. This definitely qualifies as big fuckin’ problem.” Leon shuddered like a horse scenting a snake. “What the fuck?”