“The fire,” I said. “Driving animals out into the open.”

He was already shaking his head. “Panicked animals keep on running—they don’t stop to attack everything in their path. I don’t get it, but I don’t think I want to, right? This is some kind of CIA thing—you’d tell me but you’d have to kill me?”

And then Officer Styles turned and said, “You’re an Earth Warden.” I was temporarily surprised into silence. He didn’t wait for my answer in any case. “Christ, I can’t believe this.”

“How do you know of the—”

He made a sharp, angry gesture. “My wife opted out of the Wardens about ten years ago. She was a Fire Warden. They did that surgery on her, the kind that blocks powers.”

The world took on a different reality to me in that moment. There was a connection: Wardens. Children of Wardens. “Has your son displayed any kind of talents?”

“No, of course not. He’s five.”

Neither Manny nor Angela had referred to Isabel having such abilities, either, and it would be extremely rare for them to manifest so early.

But not impossible. Luis had told me himself that his abilities had begun to make themselves known at an early age.

Styles was watching me closely. “This kid you’re chasing, she’s his niece. He’s a Warden, right?”

“His brother also was,” I said. “There is a strong genetic disposition for the abilities to run in families, although it does occur spontaneously, as well.” I had studied the phenomenon of Warden abilities in humans for a long time, seeking to discover why they developed, and how to stop them from doing so. I had found no answers.

Officer Cavanaugh was looking at the two of us as if we’d sprouted tentacles. “What in the hell is a Warden? You mean, like a prison warden? Wait, are you talking about those crazy con artists who put on that show for the news in Florida?”

Neither of us paid him any mind. “You think these people—whoever they are—are grabbing Warden kids,” Styles said. Muscles jumped along his jawline, as if he were resisting the urge to bite. “My God. How widespread is this?”

“I don’t know. The Wardens are—” Secretive. Devious. Embattled. “Not inclined to share their information with those beyond their circle. If there have been other Warden children abducted, the fact that the parents were Wardens would not have been noted in any police reports. We would have to cross-reference lists of Wardens with parents who have reported their children as missing.” It was a difficult time for the Wardens, and that made it a perfect time for their enemies to strike. Many parents, if they were off traveling with Lewis Orwell’s party, might not even know yet that their children were missing, but I couldn’t believe it to be so widespread. This had the feeling of cold, clinical planning, and a laser focus.

Luis could gain access to Warden records. If he’s still alive, part of me whispered mockingly, but I hushed it. He was alive. I had taken energy from him, and our bond had grown steadily stronger. I would have known if his life had been snuffed out. I had known when Manny . . .

No. He was alive, and had either been taken or followed a trail without me. Or perhaps even both. He could have been lured away and then captured. Not impossible, in all the confusion. He might have even gone willingly, if they had used Isabel to draw him in.

A tremor of rage went through me, burning a red-hot wire trail from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet. Those who had done this—who continued to do it—would pay dearly. I had been born into flesh without an instinct for mercy, and what little I had learned had been burned away by this latest affront.

“What can we do?” the other policeman asked. I took a deep breath and deliberately banked the fire inside of me, saving it for a more appropriate time and target.

“You can start by looking through your records,” I said. “Any missing or abducted children.”

Styles’s face could have been formed from concrete. “You got any idea how many of those there are every year?”

“An unpleasantly large number?” I didn’t wait for confirmation. “We have little time, Officer Styles. Luis may have no time at all. I must find him and Isabel. I pledge to you that if I find your son, I will bring him back to you safely, but I need to go. Now.”

“Go where?” That was a reasonable enough question. I had no reasonable answer.

“Away,” I said. “Away from here.”

He exchanged another of those looks with his partner, who finally shrugged. “Don’t know, man. She could have let us die a couple of times. She didn’t. I have to count that in her favor.”

Styles’s attention returned to me. “I don’t trust Wardens,” he said. “My wife doesn’t trust them. If the Wardens are behind this—”

I could not believe they were. At least, not the official organization. Lewis Orwell and Joanne Baldwin, in particular, would never have condoned it. “I will find out,” I said. “I swear that to you.”

He nodded and stepped back.

I climbed on the Victory, checked the gauges, and started the engine. I would need gas soon, but for now all I wanted was to get away from the stench of burned grass and defeat.

Officer Styles didn’t raise his hand in farewell to me, but I supposed the fact that he also didn’t raise a gun was a bit of a triumph.

I went on, heading into Colorado. I was no longer sure my answers lay ahead, but movement, any movement, was better than standing still when there was so little time to waste.

I was five miles down the road when I heard the whisper: Luis’s voice, clear as if his lips were beside my ear. “Cassie.”

Don’t call me that. I sensed a pulse of lazy amusement from him.

“Cassiel.”

I brought the motorcycle to a tire-burning halt at the side of the road. The wind had picked up again, whipping dirt in swirls over me. I closed my eyes and concentrated, turning inward. Seeking.

It was his voice, but not his presence. “Luis? Where are you?”

“I’m tied up in the back of a truck,” he said. He sounded remarkably slow and calm about it. “Sorry. They grabbed me in the smoke. Not much I could do.”

He was lying to me. No Earth Warden would find it difficult to get away from such a situation. Ropes, metal—it was all subject to their power and therefore significantly less effective, unless the enemy also had a Warden focused on preventing his escape.

“You went willingly,” I said.

“Busted.” He sounded faintly amused about it—and drugged, perhaps. I was not amused at all. “Look, they suckered us. They set a trap for us. If we want to get to Ibby, we have to let them take us to her. Don’t you get it? We have to stop fighting.”

“You have no idea what they want from you,” I said. “Or what they will do to you. Luis, tell me where you are. Tell me.”

“No. Not until I’m ready. I don’t want you busting in and blowing everything, and I know you. You’re about as subtle as a lead pipe. When I see Isabel, when I know she’s safe, I’ll signal you.”

“How are you doing this?”

“I’m vibrating your eardrum. Old Earth Warden trick for covert operations,” Luis said. His tone changed. “Got to go. We’re heading north now. Follow us.”

And then he was gone, and I heard nothing but the steady, low moan of the wind.

Fool.

I had no choice but to follow his instructions.

I stopped for gas after two more hours of riding and waiting. I heard nothing from Luis, not even that faint and intimate whisper of my name. I wondered if he knew how that had sounded, how warm.

I wondered if I had imagined it.

He needs you, part of me said. That doesn’t mean he cares for you. Why should he? You’re hardly inviting it.

It was a foolish thought. There were so many larger things at risk, and it was yet another signal to me that I was sinking ever deeper in the quagmire of humanity. I had to struggle harder, reject these emotions, the pleasures and seductions of this flesh.