"Look at Remus," Jenks said, shifting his wings to tickle my neck. "His aura isn't being touched at all. Even by the baby's, and he's holding her."

"That might explain why he's still alive," I said, wondering how they managed it. I'd been told that banshees didn't have any control over whose aura they sucked up along with ambient emotions, but clearly that wasn't the case.

Ivy stood beside us with her hip cocked, looking miffed that we were discussing things she couldn't see. It was with an unfamiliar enthusiasm that she straightened and smiled, saying loudly to someone behind me, "Edden. Look, she finally made it."

I dropped my second sight and turned, finding the squat, muscular man almost to us. "Hi, Edden," I said, shifting my bag up higher and unintentionally making Jenks take flight.

The captain of Cincinnati's FIB department shuffled to a stop, his khakis and starched shirt saying he was in charge as much as the badge pinned to his belt and the blue FIB hat he had dropped on his graying head. The gray seemed to be heavier now, and the few wrinkles deeper.

"Rachel," he said as he extended his hand and I shook it. "What took you so long?"

"I was at my mom's," I said, watching the cops behind him start to gossip about us, and he raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"Say no more," he said, then went silent when a Were walked past, limping and with a nasty gash on his forearm.

"You gotta keep 'em separated," Ivy murmured, then turned to us, her expression sharp. "You really think having those two in with the humans is a good idea?"

Edden put a thick hand on my shoulder and turned us away, moving slowly to the cluster of FIB officers by the kiddie rides. "I've got three plainclothes with them. We're getting people out one by one. Nice and easy."

I nodded, seeing the cops in there now. Ivy seemed less than convinced, and at her sigh he held up a hand. "We're waiting for social services to get here to take custody of the kid," he explained. "I don't want charges dropped because of a sympathy plea if it goes to trial."

His voice was grim, and I remembered that these were the people who'd put his son in the hospital.

"That's great," Ivy said, her eyes on the group, "but I don't think it can wait any longer."

Jenks spilled a yellow sifting of dust, and Edden and I turned. Remus watched from under lowered brows as two more bystanders were escorted away for "questioning." As we watched, his voice became loud, almost echoing. Holly started crying in earnest, and Mia took her, holding her close, clearly peeved.

"Edden, do something," I said, ready to go over there myself. Missing baby wagon or not, Remus had put an experienced FIB agent in the hospital. I didn't like unaware innocents surrounding him. And if I could tell who the plainclothes were, so could Remus. He was a child of the system, all grown up and made deadly. Like raising a wolf among people, society had turned something already dangerous into twice the threat.

Edden looked at the three officers in with the humans and, frowning, he bobbed his head in a meaningful way. Immediately the female cop got between Remus and the last few people. Two hefty-looking men in identical coats went for Remus, one angling to get him away from his wife and child, the other pulling his cuffs. It was way too soon, and Remus lost it.

Shouting, Remus jabbed a fist out, almost scoring on the smaller FIB agent, who stumbled back. Remus lunged after him, smacking an elbow viciously into his head, then grabbing the hand of the dazed officer and twisting it to force the man to the floor. Remus knelt on his shoulder, and at a snap of cartilage, the downed officer cried out in pain. My gut clenched. It sounded like Remus had just dislocated the man's shoulder; Jenks vaulted into motion, Ivy leapt at them, and suddenly—I was standing alone.

"Jenks, no!" I cried out, heart pounding at the thought of Remus's hand smacking into the small pixy. But he had come to a halt two feet from contact. Ivy, too, slid to a stop. The sound of fear rose from high-pitched voices, and every vampire in the place turned, their eyes black.

Remus had taken a hostage. And with one hand, he worked the gun from the downed officer's holster and stood up with it, still holding the downed officer's wrist with one foot on his shoulder. Shit. Why had I agreed to this again?

Mia and the baby were in the grip of the second officer, being slowly pulled back. She could kill them in an instant, but she only looked annoyed. The third officer had the humans and was hustling them out. The click of six safeties going off sounded loudly, and then Edden shouted, "Don't do it, Remus! Let him go and get your face on the floor!"

"Stay back!" Remus screamed as the remaining humans and Inderlanders dove for cover. "Let go of my wife! Let go, or so help me, I'll kill him! I broke his fucking arm, and if you don't get back, I'll shoot him!"

Ivy was between me and Remus, feet wide and hands out in a show of goodwill. Her body was tense, but she was about ten feet back—it was too far away for her to grab him easily but also far enough that she could evade all but the most accurate bullet. Jenks had vanished into the ceiling somewhere; I'd be willing to bet he could dust someone's eyes in half a second if he wanted to. Edden and the rest of the FIB officers had frozen, not wanting to trip the man into further action—but it was Mia who was the real threat. From across the court, I.S. officials were watching with concern, not wanting to have to take action. Mia sniping a human in corners and dark alleys could be overlooked to promote a greater peace. Murdering FIB officers in the mall would force them to react, and neither party was eager for a war.

Mia's lips were open and her pale eyes were narrow in anger. Holly's voice was high, complaining, and the banshee looked insulted as she jerked out of the grip of the FIB officer holding her. Upstairs, the people behind the gates pressed close, trying to see, thinking they were safe. A cool draft replaced the fleeing Inderlanders and humans.

"I said back off!" Remus shouted, glancing up at the people whispering from the second floor. "Let my wife go! You're hurting my baby! Let them both go!" Eyes wide and wild, he looked to the front of the mall. "I want a car! Get me a car!"

Edden shook his head. "Remus, we can't let you out of here. Put the gun on the floor and lay down with your hands on your head. I promise you no one will hurt your wife or baby."

Remus looked panicked. The officer he had pinned under his knee was sweating, panting in pain, expression tight and probably kicking himself for letting Remus get his gun. The I.S. personnel inched closer. Ivy didn't move, but I saw her tense. So did Mia.

"Stop!" she shrilled, letting the toddler slip gently to the floor, where the little girl stood, gripping her mother's leg, her eyes wide, and silent at last. "Remus, stop," she said softly, her voice elegant and holding an odd accent. "This isn't going to help me. This isn't going to help Holly. Listen to me. You're going to hurt Holly if you do this. She needs a real father, Remus, not a dead memory. She needs you!"

The man brought his attention from the upper floors and focused it on his wife. Grief marked his expression. "They'll take you from me," he begged. "Mia, I can get us away. I can keep you safe."

"No." Mia started for Remus, and Ivy intercepted her, holding her in a loose but unbreakable grip, six feet back. Holly wobbled unsteadily after her, again latching on to her mother's leg for support. The I.S. personnel watched, tensing.

One hand on her daughter's blond head, Mia gave Ivy a mocking look, then focused on Remus. "Love," she said, her well-born voice full of persuasion. "It's going to be all right." She glanced at Ivy, and in a voice carrying strong conviction, she said, "Let me go. I can calm him. If you don't, he's going to kill that officer before you can move, and I will lose the only man I can love. You know what he means to me. Let me go."