Her voice floated like petals. "No, it doesn't. What I meant is his choice of me was a mistake and his timing was poor. Long-range planning isn't his best skill. He's an opportunist and very good at it."

"What about you?"

"What about me? I'm nobody. In a community so small that every member counts, I'm only barely a member. I go to movies, because I can like those celluloid people and care about them and they never grow old and die, or stay young and become monsters. They're so nice. Even the bad guys. I like celluloid people."

"What about your role-playing friends?"

"They're not my friends—they're warms." She blinked in slow motion. "Oh. That was rude of me."

"I'm not ashamed to be warm. But if you don't like them, why do you spend time with them?"

"I like them well enough. It's the game that's interesting. I've been with the same game for three years now, but the people change. It's wonderful to feel like life and death and adventure and honor are important. It's better than just drifting along in limbo and feeling like nothing matters. Sometimes it's better than movies. It's almost like being alive. And I matter so much more than I ever did."

"What else can you tell me about Edward?"

"Not much."

"What about TPM?"

"TPM? One of his little projects. I don't know what ever became of that. He liked to play with things, buildings and businesses and things like that. It's a game. To Ned, most of the world is just a big game. He likes to win—he'll even cheat to win, but not if it breaks his own rules. He has rules, you know, they're just not the ones everyone else knows. That's all."

"Tell me about you and Edward, then."

"Me and Edward. I wish there had been a me and Edward. There was just Edward. And then, there was just me. I wasn't a very amusing plaything, I guess. He dumped me. But I get along all right, I suppose."

"You said his timing was poor."

"He was so busy that being a responsible mentor just wasn't a priority," Gwen murmured. "He let me drift a lot. Finally, I just drifted away. He takes care of me when he thinks of it, but mostly he doesn't. But poor Cameron… Ned doesn't like him anymore. He makes things hard for him. Cameron should learn to drift, like I do. It's safer. Do you mind if I go now? The second feature is going to start. It's Jean Renoir. I love Renoir. So lovely and strange." She rose and glided away, disappearing into the dimness of the theater.

I sat and finished my coffee. This case owed more to John Carpenter by way of Fellini than Renoir, as far as I could see.

I walked back along the Ave through the still-thick throngs of college students, panhandlers, and drug dealers hanging out on the street. In some places, their conversational knots blocked the sidewalk and forced me into the street to pass. Despite the cry of the fashionable that grunge was dead, it was difficult to tell the middle-class students from the destitute street people. Scraggly beards, dirt-colored clothes, and lank hair abounded. The Goths and preppies stood out like buzzards and peacocks in a flock of sparrows. And the noise level rivaled that of any migratory-avian watering hole in spring. My ears were ringing by the time I turned off University Way and walked several long blocks to a twenty-four-hour Italian restaurant.

It was nearly ten thirty and my stomach was putting up quite a fuss over missed meals. I ordered food and drank more coffee. I thought about Gwen. Her Grey presence was almost nil; she left barely a ripple and affected me not at all. Was that what Carlos had meant? Would Cameron fade down to the same sad shadow, a memory that remained only because it hadn't yet forgotten itself?

I sighed. She hadn't been as useless as she thought, at least. Gwen was an instance of bad mentorship, too—foolish risks to the community. And she had confirmed Edward's connection to TPM back when the company was young. How deep was he into TPM's structure and how much of TPM's wealth and influence were wielded at Edward's discretion? I feared that answer as much as I needed it.

After dinner, I wasted some of my time with an undead gentleman in Fremont. I left him angry at Edward, but gained nothing directly. As I was leaving, a different and familiar sense of disquiet brushed my back. Hot and cold. I let my senses sink toward it, watching the world become hazy with the shadows of the Grey. I turned, searching.

Alice was standing in the doorway I'd just exited.

"Hard at work?"

"Hard enough," I answered, holding down a quiver of revulsion as the fever-flash heat and chill of her overt sensuality crawled over me.

She glowered. "Not quite." I felt her pressure on me increase and her voice seemed to ring deeper. "You need to move more directly against him. You should be attacking, not nibbling around the edges like a mouse."

I pushed back against Alice's demands and felt them crumble away into the cloud-swirl between us. I smothered my relief and felt sweat on my skin, panting as if I'd just done a sprint from standing.

"No. A direct attack is not what I agreed to and I'm not going to march up to Edward and make myself a target just to make you happy."

The red corona around her flared into a spire of rage. Her hands crooked into claws. "You think you can defy me? I can remove you with a flick of my hand."

I locked down a shudder. "What good does that do you, Alice? You just mop up Edward's problem without him raising a finger. He's not going to thank you for it. As long as I'm out here, Edward's got trouble, but if you really want him to hurt, you'll have to get a little dirty. Fan flames, spread rumors. That's your part of the job. Remember? If things aren't going to plan, it's not because of me."

She settled a little. "Don't overstep yourself. Lack of forgiveness is a trait Edward and I share."

"I'm not so forgiving myself. And I don't appreciate being attacked by undead thugs or having my place tossed."

She narrowed her eyes and my breath went cold. "What? You think I had anything to do with that?" She laughed flaming shards of ice through my skin. "You're not worth the expense."

"Then maybe it's Edward. If he's onto me, he'll be onto you next. You need to start covering both our backs, as you promised, or you won't have much chance to put your plans into action."

Alice glared in silence, thinking.

I took my time, breathing with care to avoid the lump of ice in my throat. "Alice, you know that if Edward thinks I'm the only source of his troubles, he'll swat me and then you'll have no opportunity to move. So let's just get on with it. You'll get your chance."

"I had best to." Alice faded back into the doorway, vanishing into the dark.

It would have been more dramatic if I couldn't see her slipping through the Grey. And that confused me. Because, if Alice didn't know what I could do or see, why had she been tailing me so long?

I shook my head, turned my back, and started walking again, looking at the list. There was only one name left, added in Alice's unpleasant purple ink.