The Taste Of Night

31

“Where have you been?”

Hunter fell into step beside me as I winged past a full-sized stock car where five boys were goading each other on, bright lights and screeching wheels accompanying their raucous yells. The rest of the arcade was empty, the games huddled forlornly in the cavelike room, intermittent beeps punctuating the too-silent air in discontent. I decided now wasn’t the time to clue him in about Regan and Ben. We both needed to focus, and the best thing I could do for Ben was find that serum. “Find the portals?” I asked instead.

“Three of them, one close to the last known entry into the lab. We’ll start there.”

By now we’d hit the casino floor. I was mildly surprised to see how much action the slots were getting, the diehards still getting their fix as the city sank around them. More surprising was the stench, a smell similar to petrol on the fingertips. I was about to ask what it was when I realized the answer was staring me in the face. Nearly every person in the casino was wearing an invisible mask of black smoke…invisible, that was, on their side of reality. On this side their infections were blatant. I saw oblivious people marked for death, blithely pouring money into machines while death poured from their throats, their pores, and out onto the casino floor. My aura could barely be seen through the haze.

“This is disgusting,” I said, trying not to think about all the airborne diseases I wasn’t seeing. Hunter, too busy scanning the room for agents, only grunted something about not kissing them. I grimaced and held my breath for as long as possible.

“There,” he said, pointing. “See it?”

I did. A tiny pinprick of luminosity stood out even above carousels of blinking bulbs and chandeliers splintering light in a thousand different directions.

“The men’s bathroom,” I said, wryly. “Someone has a sense of humor.”

“Maybe I should go in first,” Hunter said, taking the lead. “It could be a trap.”

“Right. So you can blow your cover. That makes sense,” I jostled him with my shoulder to cut off his reply and unholstered my conduit, taking the shooter’s stance as we flanked the doorway. “Besides, I’m the one whose aura is sliming the place like a melted Popsicle.”

His mouth turned down as he watched the color pooling at my still feet, before giving a short nod, and I pivoted into the bathroom. His voice followed me back into the mortal reality. “Use the radio once you get there.”

A sucking noise sounded behind me, the portal sealing shut, and just like that I was back in full Technicolor. I inhaled, whirled, whirled again, quickly ascertaining that I was, for the moment, alone. But where?

Obviously offices of some sort, I thought, once my eyes adjusted to the dimness of the windowless room. Partitioned cubicles, ten in all, stretched across the floor, with a break room smelling of burned popcorn and stale coffee, and half a sheet of uneaten cake in the shared fridge. Closed for the evening, these offices were part of the administration; marketing, accounting, benefits, something like that. I found a stack of applications, a photo ID machine, and cabinets filled with employee files. Human resources. I lifted my radio from my belt and spoke into the receiver.

“How do you feel about birthday cake?”

There was a long pause, then a crackle of static, and Hunter’s voice squawked back. “Is that code for ‘Help, the bad guys got me’?”

“No, it’s code for ‘I’m safe and sound but I’m locked in the HR office and don’t know where to go from here.’”

“Coulda been worse. That’s still the ground floor. I’ll come and get you.”

Three minutes later the lock snicked open on the front office, and Hunter appeared…or almost appeared. His outline materialized in front of me first, a gray-blue shimmer that solidified into lines with no more dimension than a stick figure’s, features sketchy, like a cartoon. Or a comic book. Even as someone who’d traveled both sides of this reality, I don’t think I’d have known he was there if I hadn’t been expecting him.

“Gee, Hunt, you’re looking a little washed out. Chin up, though. I’m sure we’ll have better luck with the next portal.”

He rolled his normally dark eyes, now marbles of arctic ice, and led me down the hall without reply. My wit might have been intact, but my luck didn’t fare as well. Though I made it through the casino in my wig and glasses without attracting notice, the second portal was located inside the storage freezer in the kitchen of Antoine Ferrare, the famous French chef. I hid behind a crate of plates readied to be run through the industrial-sized dishwasher, waiting for the place to clear long enough to make a run for the freezer. It never did, though, and I had to settle for turned backs while Hunter held open the door, a surprised yell following me into deep freeze before the portal sealed shut behind me.

Inside I found low ceilings, fluorescent lighting and stainless steel shelving. I knocked empty cabinet doors closed with my knees, and pushed shut drawers as I made my way around the partition cutting the room in half.

“I’m in,” I said into my radio, then exhaled deeply as I lowered it to my side. I’d found the lab again, but even in the gray-smeared landscape of reality’s flip side, I could see there were no penned-in primates to trumpet my arrival. Both cages and creatures were gone, with only the toxic scent of ammonia to complement the sinking feeling in my stomach.

I told Hunter to wait while I had a look around, though it was more to give me time to overcome my disappointment than out of any hope I’d find anything. I slammed the doors on a metal cabinet and glanced up at the ceiling, down at the floor, and in all four corners to make sure I was missing nothing. Not a vial, not a note, not even the cap to a ball-point pen. I bet if I dusted the place, I wouldn’t find a single print.

“Well?” came Hunter’s prompt over the radio.

“Fastidious fuckers,” I replied, and winced at his responding sigh.

“I don’t know where it is so I can’t come get you.”

“That’s all right,” I said, spotting a tiny star blinking above the exit door. “I’ll find you.”

I sent a final, searching look around the room, cursed again under my breath, and returned to the mortal reality using the same door I had before. This time the anteroom was dark; no alarms to trip, no armed men racing down the stairs to guard against intruders.

And this time there was a vial of etched crystal spotlighted on a coffee table in the center of the room.

I took a step toward it, studying the deep crimson liquid inside. Like blood, I thought, reaching for it. Like the serum, I knew, because I could scent the same yeasty compound now living inside me. My hand had just cleared the outer rim of the spotlight when another opposite me snatched the vial faster than I could blink.

I dropped the radio on the floor while my weapon hand came up, firing eight clean arrows into the dark, hearing some sink into fabric-the couch I’d hidden behind before-and others burrow into flesh. I backed up as I fired until I could duck behind the high desk. My breathing was ragged in the ensuing silence. Damn, not one of my senses had kicked into overdrive. Why hadn’t I known anyone was there?

There was a sucking sound, followed by a rattle. A second followed. Then a third. Movement? Labored breathing? A slow death?

I glanced at the beveled mirror mounted behind the desk, which showed arrows being tossed onto the spotlit table, bloodless, though I knew they’d just come from someone’s body. That someone leaned forward, and though the rest of him remained cloaked in darkness, a grin flashed like the Cheshire cat’s.

“Thank you, dear,” a voice said, and a single hand joined that smile, the vial flipping carelessly in bone-white fingers. “I take my power where I can get it.”

“Tulpa,” I whispered, mouth going dry.

The smile widened, the hand gestured. “Call me Pa.”

Fuck. I tucked away my conduit because I knew it wouldn’t help. The Tulpa couldn’t be killed by supernatural means, as unconventional as they were. In fact, from his comment I gathered it was exactly the opposite; he gained more power from the energy expended trying to kill him. I considered making a run for it, but there was that damned mirror. I could be seen crouched behind that desk just as easily as I could see him, and right now I felt the Tulpa’s gaze burrowing into me, probing behind my wig and glasses. I swallowed hard. Hiding wasn’t going to help me either. He could knock this desk through the back wall with a kiss, and I was alive now simply because he willed it.

So I took a deep, steadying breath and stood.

He sat in the middle of the couch, same as before, leaning forward only enough to reveal those pearly whites, elegant hands currently splayed across his knees. He linked them as I approached, letting me know he’d do nothing to impede my progress…for now. The vial sat gleaming, back in the spotlight.

The radio squawked on the floor between. “Jo? You heading out?”

I stifled a sigh, frozen in place. Thank God Hunter had used my real name. Thank God he knew it.

“You should answer that,” the Tulpa said, voice deep and deceptively reasonable.

I had to answer it. Worse than revealing my identity, Hunter might slip and reveal his own. I might be momentarily spared a gruesome death, but such hospitality, I knew, wouldn’t extend to other agents of Light.

I bent, eyes ever on those hands as I lifted the radio. Not that it would do any good. I was unarmed. He was the Tulpa. I weighed the risks, decided I had nothing to lose, and held the device out to the Tulpa. “Why don’t you answer it? He works for you.”

For a moment I thought he’d take the bait. I didn’t know how much an explosive device would hurt the Tulpa, but it’d create a powerful distraction. There was a discreet sniffing-like a hound on the trail of deer’s spoor-and a disappointed sigh. He leaned back, disappearing, and when he spoke again, that calm voice had honed to an edge.

“Tell your partner to join us. All he has to do is take the south elevators to the basement floor. I’ll wait.”

Then Hunter’s voice again. “Hey, you there?”

I couldn’t tell him I was with the Tulpa. He’d tear the building apart trying to find me, and I was already past the point of rescue. I was at the mercy of a being who didn’t even know the meaning of the word. I lifted the radio to my mouth and pressed the button.

“Let’s abort. No more communication. Meet me back at my place in thirty.” I clicked off the radio before Hunter could respond and tucked it back into my belt. Thirty minutes was long enough that whatever was going to happen to me would be a distant memory before Hunter realized I wasn’t coming home.

“Willing to go it alone in order to save your partner. Admirable, Joanna. You’ve grown more confident since we last met.”

I stared into the void where my father’s face was hidden, and found the courage to speed my fate along. It wasn’t that I wanted to die. I just couldn’t see a clear way out of it this time.

“Scared?” I asked, my tone nearly haughty enough to rival his.

He chuckled, a big change from the last time I’d sassed him and he’d responded by nearly blowing the lungs from my chest. “Not particularly.”

“But interested.” I was his Achilles’ heel, and we both knew it.

He leaned forward, and black marble eyes narrowed on mine. “Always that.”

I swallowed hard and looked at him for the first time. Other than the creepy gaze and malleable features, he was disappointingly normal; tanned-large, of course, I’d expected no less-with a crop of salt-and-pepper hair that looked like it’d curl if it ever grew long. Damn. I hadn’t expected him to be handsome. “I’d be flattered, but seeing as how the first interest you showed in me nearly got me killed, I’ll go ahead and reserve judgment.”

“That which doesn’t kill you serves to make you stronger,” he said flippantly, pulling at his cuffs. Gorgeous suit. So soft it almost looked buttery. “What I want to know is what took you so long? You entered the property almost an hour ago. Ever hear how I hate to be kept waiting?”

The bleeding aura. Not just his DNA identifying mine, but a tracking device? I didn’t want to ask. I was already down, and we were in the ninth, so I just shrugged the question away, trying to look relaxed.

His voice sharpened again. “I find your reticence surprising since the last time we met you were extremely vocal about…what was it? Annihilating the entire Shadow Zodiac, including myself?” He tilted his head, and I saw a lock of dark hair shadow his forehead. “How’s that going for you?”

“’Bout the same as your vow to hunt down and kill my mother,” I said, and had the satisfaction of watching that blinding smile drop. There were Achilles’ heels…and then there were just plain sore spots. The jab gave me confidence.

“Speaking of enemies,” I said, taking another step forward. “You might want to cull your ranks. One of your newer agents seems to have taken a liking to playing both sides.”

Take that, you stupid bitch, I thought, an evil sort of pleasure warming at the thought of outing Regan to the leader of the underworld. But the Tulpa just spread his hands in a helpless gesture. “Ah, youth.”

My jaw tightened. “She’s the one who killed the Piscean Shadow,” I said, not wanting to give him Regan’s name outright. It was childish, I know, but I wanted to make him ask for it. “She told me about the virus. And gave me Joaquin’s home address.”

I folded my arms and waited for his response.

“And what?” he finally asked, each syllable rolling languidly over his tongue. “You think it was innate talent or wisdom or experience that allowed her to think of all that on her own? Why, what a clever girl that would be.”

I blinked and couldn’t keep my mouth from dropping open. “You knew? But to allow the death of one of your agents…”

“A sacrifice for the greater good,” he said, elegant hands linking together again, tone all too reasonable. “Regan had to gain your trust. And you had to take her bait. From there it was easy to deduce where your hate for Joaquin would lead you. Your mind is analytical and pure, Joanna.”

He meant straightforward and simple. I narrowed my eyes. “You had her set me up.”

He shook his head, his index finger swaying side to side with it. “Uh-uh-uh. I told her to find you”-again, that helpless shrug-“she took it from there.”

Joanna. Not once had he used my cover name. And he would’ve, right? I asked myself. Had he known the Olivia Archer identity, he’d want me to know he knew. So maybe he was right and his brilliant little charge had taken well to her role, improvising more than a bit. Playing two sides would suit a woman seeking to make her own name among the Shadow ranks. The Kairos’s identity was information she believed no one else in her troop had, and I bet she was holding that card close to her chest. It was a good theory, anyway. One I’d keep to myself for now.

“You don’t look like I thought you would,” I said, changing the subject.

He actually smiled at that. “Sure I do.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. I’d expected him to look regal or something, literally larger than life. Instead he looked like one of the guidos who used to run this town…which made me think, contrary to the evidence, that his creator had absolutely no imagination whatsoever. “You don’t.”

“Joanna. You’ve been in our world long enough to realize expectations create reality.”

“So?” I asked smartly, not liking the fatherly tone he was taking with me. Too late for that. Nearly killing me had blunted the appeal.

“So what exactly is it you think you’re seeing?”

I drew back, knowing my surprise was written all over my face. “You’re saying I’m projecting what I expect to see onto you?”

“What you want to see,” he corrected, leaning onto his knees, giving me a clearer look. My eyes raced over his face.

“So the dirty guinea mobster before me doesn’t really exist in this form outside my imagination?” I said, grimacing. That would mean it was my imagination that was lacking.

The Tulpa was inspecting his reflection in the mirror behind me, and sighed before turning back to me. “It’s to be expected, I guess. A wop is benign for a Vegas girl. Fatherly. I’m none of those things, of course. I should abuse you of the notion by chopping off your limbs and feeding them to my new sharks.”

I swallowed hard. “Should probably leave a severed horse’s head at the foot of my bed,” I agreed. “But won’t.”

“And why wouldn’t I?”

I was next to him in a flash, leaning over the coffee table before he even had a chance to lean back. He did lean forward, though, and I found myself nose to nose with the Tulpa. Up close, the similarities were startling. Up close, I thought, you could see the eyes nailing our bloodline in place.

“Because you’re enjoying this conversation too much,” I whispered. “And because…You. Owe. Me.”

His nostrils flared. “But you’re holding up your end of this conversation just fine. Perhaps because you know I can give you more power than Warren can even dream of possessing. I can teach you the history of the Shadow side, the full legacy of the Kairos.” He lowered his chin and leveled me with a knowing look. “With what I can give you, you’ll drink your enemies’ blood for breakfast, and sup on the bones of those you despise. I can promise that, and I never break my word.”

I straightened, shaking my head, even though I knew doing so was my death sentence. “I don’t want a damned thing from you.”

He smirked. “Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

Before I could ask what he meant, he broke eye contact. His eyes fluttered shut, and I could see them working like minnows beneath his lids. When he opened them again I wanted to ask what he’d done, what magic he’d conjured. Where the buzzing in my veins had come from. But I didn’t have to. A door slammed above us, then footsteps pounded down the stairs, and the smell alone-nauseatingly sweet-was enough to tell me Joaquin had arrived. The Tulpa was watching me for a reaction, but I only allowed my hands to ball into fists behind my back.

“You can call people to you without picking up a phone?” I said, both pleased and surprised to hear my voice was even and normal since I was now standing in a room with my two greatest enemies.

“I can,” the Tulpa said, “and so can you.”

“Control your thoughts and you control your reality,” I said, the residual electricity from his magic still thrumming in my veins. It felt good.

“What is thought but another form of energy?” he said, seeing this, his words eerily close to Tekla’s. Neither of us had acknowledged Joaquin yet, and he shifted on his feet, though he made no move to speak. It must have rankled. “As a man who was once nothing but gray matter passing through the mind of one individual, I can tell you that applied thought is enough to move mountains.”

“That doesn’t mean she can do it,” Joaquin interrupted, revealing his discontent.

“I’m his daughter,” I said, turning to him for the first time. He was wearing a suit too, though it wasn’t as fine as the Tulpa’s. His hands were behind his back, possibly an unconscious mirroring of mine, so all that was visible of his body was the slim neck and long face, his thin lips pressed together, not a hair out of place. “I’m the Kairos. I can do anything I set my mind to.” I let loose so he could see the resemblance between dear ol’ dad and me, and it must’ve been more impressive than it’d been in Master Comics, because he jerked back. Delight thrilled through me.

The Tulpa chuckled. “Come with me, Joanna, and I’ll show you how.”

I kept my eyes on Joaquin. “I already told you no.”

“Come with me now and I’ll give you Joaquin on a platter.”

For the second time, Joaquin was jolted, and looked from the Tulpa to me and back again. I had to smile. Then I had to smother it because the Tulpa smiled in return. It was one thing for Joaquin to think we were symbiotic, it was another to let my erstwhile father believe I’d caved even an inch.

I clenched my hands into fists, arms ramrod straight at my side, and told him evenly, “If you think you can just waltz into my life after twenty-five years, you’d better apply your thought in a different direction. I don’t roll that easily. I don’t come when called. And I don’t take from others what I intend to get for myself. Don’t think I don’t remember who sent him after me in the first place.”

“That was Zoe’s fault!” he exploded, and those black eyes flared to life, bright flames of fire dancing in the pupils, smoke pouring from his mouth. Shit, but his fuse was short. “She should’ve told me about you.”

“Fine, it’s Zoe’s fault,” I allowed, choking on the dusty air as I waved my hand in front of my face. Talk about bad breath. It was the Tulpa’s turn to look surprised. “She’s not exactly on my Christmas card list either. But, you know”-and I mimicked his shrug here-“you’re here. She’s not. So you get the brunt of my overdue adolescent rebellion.”

“Vendettas are the most unstable form of power,” he said gravely. Oh goody, a lesson in morality from Mr. Evil himself. I barely contained my eye roll. “If you proceed in this fashion you may get what you desire, but I can’t promise it won’t come at a deep price.”

I crossed my arms and pretended to consider that, glancing from him to Joaquin and back again. “So make me a different promise,” I finally said.

He leaned back on the couch, his face disappearing back into the shadows so I could no longer read his expression. It didn’t matter. That movement alone told me all I needed to know. Joaquin swallowed hard, seeing it as well. “Would it be enough to bring you over to the Shadow side?” the Tulpa asked, voice disembodied. “Allow me to show you firsthand what I’m willing to bequeath to you?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. “Right now.”

The Tulpa straightened where he sat. Joaquin froze.

“Name it,” the Tulpa said, instantly back in the light. I barely kept from smiling.

“You always honor your promises, right?” It was rhetorical, but he nodded anyway. I echoed the movement. “So allow my mother to come out of hiding. Give her your solemn word that you’ll never hunt or harm her, or seek vengeance for the destruction of your maker. Let her live a normal life in peace, or return to the agents of Light to take up the Archer star sign when I leave.”

Slowly he leaned back again. “No.”

One side of my mouth quirked. “Not even for the Kairos?”

“You’re trying my patience, daughter,” he said as the room filled with smoke again. “Don’t test me.”

I gave as good as I got, lowering my own voice as I allowed my Shadow side to respond; I was that pissed. “Then don’t lecture me about vendettas. You’ve got more to lose, and you’d risk it all without a second thought for a shot at Zoe Archer.”

Joaquin began to choke, and even though every air molecule in the room had been flooded with our combined anger, I could breathe just fine beneath this mask of shadows. Another power I hadn’t known I possessed. As for my words-and the lengthy silence coming from that darkened corner-I wasn’t worried. If the Tulpa was going to kill me, he’d already have done it, and I wouldn’t be able to scent him at all.

“I can see you’re willing to sacrifice your life for the cause of the Light,” he finally said, his voice deceptively reasonable. “And you can see I’m not willing to let you do that.”

“So we’ve reached a stalemate. Again.”

“Not necessarily,” he said, and gestured Joaquin over to his side like he was a dog expected to heel. Joaquin didn’t look happy rounding out our sordid little triangle, though he put on a brave face when he caught me watching.

“Sure you don’t want to join the Shadows, Joanna?” he said, and I frowned, momentarily distracted by his use of my real name. An automatic response? Or hadn’t he told the Tulpa of my identity yet either?

“Why?” I asked him coldly. “You want to kiss and make up?”

He managed a leer. “You guessed part of it anyway.”

I feigned a yawn and looked back at the Tulpa. He leaned over and pushed the vial of serum my way. That perked me right up, and I looked up to find his gaze, dark again, boring into mine. “Go on. It’s what you’re here for, isn’t it? Want to save the world, daughter? Risk your own life to get back in good with your pathetic troop? Give a second chance to thousands of unworthy souls?”

“Innocents,” I corrected, which earned me a rueful smile. My fingers itched as I looked at the vial.

“Sure,” he scoffed. “The vermin filling my casino with their death breath are so innocent. The street hookers and the pedophiles, and your fellow partyers at the swingers’ ball, they’re all innocent.”

I jerked my head. “They deserve a chance. They deserve a choice.”

“Hm,” he said, his voice filled with false remorse. “And all they have is you.”

Joaquin’s gaze met mine. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“And you,” the Tulpa said to him, catching the movement. “I don’t think even I’ll live to see the day when you act out of concern or loyalty for someone other than yourself. You have all the depth of a wading pool. All the devotion of a rabid cat.”

“Sir?” Joaquin frowned, swallowing hard. The Tulpa ignored him, turning back to me.

“Unfortunately,” he said breezily, “you’re one of mine, and she’s not. Then again, she’s my only blood, and you’re not. Some would say her stubbornness is an inherited trait-hard to dispute-but just in case that stubbornness comes from her fucking mother’s side and not mine, I’m going to give both of you a chance.”

His teeth gleamed again in the sole spotlight. “It should end the way it began, don’t you think? The two of you, out in the desert night.” He held the cylindrical vial aloft. “The future of the valley lies in this little bottle. If Joaquin wins, he’ll be credited with the destruction of Las Vegas and its inhabitants. He’ll go down in the manuals as one of the greatest villains of all time.”

My eyes flicked to Joaquin and I could tell immediately the idea appealed to him. He’d do anything to star in the manuals he so eagerly devoured. “I get to kill her too, right?”

“Oh yes.”

I smirked. “Thanks, Pop.”

His attention stayed trained on Joaquin. “Daughter or not-Kairos or not-if she can be killed by the likes of you, I don’t want her.”

I didn’t know who was supposed to be more insulted by that, Joaquin or me. I cleared my throat. “And if I win?”

Carelessly he pointed the vial my way, like nothing precious lay between his fingertips. “You’ll earn the antidote, save all the living, supernatural or not, and we’re back to where we started. Balanced and even, each side fighting for dominance while we wait for the third sign of the Zodiac to be revealed.”

Joaquin cracked his knuckles. “So, combat, then? Mano a mano?”

I shook my head slowly, eyes narrowed on the Tulpa. “That’s not it, is it?”

Joaquin snorted. “Afraid?”

I snorted back. “Hey, asswipe. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not the one making the rules.” I turned back to the Tulpa. “Hand combat is too simple, too fast, too…pedestrian for dear old Dad’s taste. Right?”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me old, but other than that…” He shrugged and began flipping the precious vial through his fingers again, bloodred and crystal flashing between the tanned skin.

Joaquin turned to stare at him. “So what then?”

“A race,” he answered shortly, voice emptied of all emotion, like he had nothing invested in the outcome. “A flight among the streets you two have canvassed more thoroughly than any other agents. You’re looking for this.”

He withdrew another vial from his pocket, uncapped it, and waited while Joaquin and I inhaled, each fighting to make out the scent inside first. I closed my eyes, despite the immediate dangers in the room, and focused on ferreting out the olfactory thread leaking from that bottle, separating it from the others, drawing it through my pores. Almonds, chalk, soured milk, and starch. My eyes flipped open. “Ian.”

If it was possible, Joaquin looked even more surprised than I. “But he’s-”

“He’s what, Joaquin?” the Tulpa said sharply. “Locked away? Fettered in your secret hideaway, safe from all prying eyes?”

Joaquin swallowed hard. A taut undercurrent shimmered in the air, friction between the two men, an unspoken animosity that I’d have been able to capitalize on if I’d known about it sooner. Still, it might not be too late. Shit, it might be just the thing that was giving me this chance now. I shifted, leaning on my left leg, hoping I looked like I was simply altering my stance, though inching closer to Joaquin in the process.

“So when do we start?” I asked, shifting again.

“Now.”

“Now?” Joaquin repeated, still numbed by the Tulpa’s hostility.

“Now,” I said, and my left arm ratcheted down as my right leg whipped out, a perfectly timed sidekick containing all the momentum I could muster from a motionless position. I caught Joaquin in the side of the head and he crumpled, out before he’d even hit the floor.

The Tulpa laughed. “I assume that was for the afraid remark.”

“Among other things,” I said dryly.

My hand shifted to my conduit, but the Tulpa shook his head, making a tsking sound. “Not until you’re out of the building. Until then, I suggest you use your lead wisely. He won’t be out for long.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. I ran, taking the stairs two at a time. He was right, I thought, bursting through the stairwell door. I’d use my lead to find Ian, secure the vial, and save the known world. Murdering Joaquin could wait a little longer.