Grant leased out the second and third floors to me. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the third floor yet, but liked the view and the strange architecture enough to keep it.

At the top of the second-floor stairway was a door. I pushed it open, out into the wide hall that split the entire floor in two. Half the space nearest Get Mugged was reserved for my office, a dojo, and a smaller kitchen/living area that had enough locks and wards, I could keep the Hounds out if I needed to. The other side of the building was set up as the main living quarters for the Hounds. Bunks would eventually line one or two walls, and there were a couple bathrooms, showers, and a larger kitchen. A few couches, a TV, computers, and a space cordoned off for meetings.

It wasn’t a home, but it was a roof and walls, and a place out of the weather.

Right now, it was open loft space with bits of furniture here and there. Which meant it was easy to hear who was here, and easy to find them.

I planned on keeping it that way.

Davy Silvers, arms crossed over his chest, leaned against one of the walls on my side of the floor, between the windows that overlooked Get Mugged. Anthony was halfway across the room from him, about dead middle of the space, his hands out of his pockets, empty. No guns, spells, or blood yet.

“Hey, Davy,” I said. “Anthony. You boys figure things out?”

Davy spoke. “He said you okayed him being here. Hounding.” It came out low and soft. Even though it had been several weeks since Davy had been mauled by Greyson and betrayed by his girlfriend, Tomi, he still hadn’t fully recovered. A few weeks ago, we’d found out Tomi left Oregon. Went back to California to stay with her grandmother. Ever since Davy had heard that news, there was something different about him. Something broken inside him.

And out of that breakage poured a cold anger I’d never seen in him before. I figured it would just take time for him to get his footing again, to feel normal without Tomi. And I figured he did not need Anthony rubbing salt in his wounds in the interim.

I wandered over to my desk, letting my oh-so-casual body language wet-blanket as much fire out of their standoff as I could. Davy was my secretary and righthand man when it came to Hound business, and had been indispensable during the renovations. He’d put a few files on my desk for me to look through. I opened the first one, and pretended to read it.

“I told Anthony he has to get his act together before he can be a part of the pack,” I said.

Davy shifted his fists to crack his knuckles against his ribs. “I don’t like him,” he said. “I don’t want him here.”

“If we only opened our doors to Hounds who got along, there’d never be more than one of us here at a time.” I closed the folder. Looked over at the boys.

Still hadn’t moved. Still looked like they were ready to attack.

“Did I mention the new rule? No killing each other. If you two can’t be in each other’s presence, then I don’t want you in the same room.”

To my surprise, it was Anthony who listened. “I should go. I just wanted to say—”

“Good-bye,” Davy said. End of conversation.

Anthony looked over at me. I nodded. Kid had guts. No smarts, but plenty of guts.

“See you around, Anthony.”

He looked down at his shoe. He walked over to me, head still down. Davy tensed with every step Anthony took.

Me too, but I hid it better.

“Here.” Anthony handed me a piece of paper. “Like you said, right?”

I glanced down at the note. It was a name and a number. His counselor, I assumed. “So far,” I agreed. “Go on home.”

He hesitated. “I was trying to tell him, you know, the same things I told you.”

“Fuck,” Davy whispered.

“Go home, Anthony,” I said a little stronger. “While you can do it walking. This isn’t going to get solved in one night.”

He hitched one shoulder and gave me the angry gaze. Didn’t like me much. Yeah, well, I already had friends.

“Good night,” I said.

“Screw this.” He strode across the room and out the door without once looking back. When it was clear he had taken the elevator down, I opened the file on my desk for real.

“You staying here much longer?” I asked Davy.

He finally shifted away from the wall and walked over to me. I kept my eyes on the paper but out of my peripheral vision paid attention to how he moved. He wasn’t limping anymore, which was good, but still looked a little stiff, as if something inside hurt every time he took too deep of a breath.

He sat in the chair on the other side of my desk, leather, comfortable—hey, I had some money. “I was just headed out when Bell showed up. You could have warned me.”

“Sorry. I didn’t know he was coming up here. He was down at Get Mugged. Wanted to apologize. Wanted to join.”

“And you’re gonna let him?”

“He screwed up, Davy. We all know that. I can’t forgive him for what he did to Pike. But I won’t throw him under a train. If he can pull his life together, I’m not going to get in his way.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do. I understand what Pike would have done for him.”

Davy scowled, his eyes narrowing, his teeth showing.

“Pike saw something in Anthony,” I said. “He stuck with him even when the kid was being an ass.”

“And it got him killed.” Davy stood. “I’m not that stupid. I didn’t think you were either.”

“Lon Trager killed Pike,” I said. “Not Anthony. You know that.”

“I know Pike wouldn’t have gone down to Trager alone if Anthony hadn’t used his blood to frame Pike.”

“Pike went there alone because he was a stubborn old man. I told him the police would go with him, with us. He wouldn’t listen. Sometimes Hounds make stupid, stupid choices, Davy. Just like Pike did, just like Anthony did, and just like Tomi did. She almost killed you. And if she came walking in here, telling me she was clean and had pulled her life together, I’d give her the chance to prove it to me too.”

Davy’s face flushed red. The thin scar that still hadn’t healed over his left eyebrow and down his temple turned white.

“Leave Tomi out of this.”

“Listen—” I stopped. Took the volume out of my voice. “What I’m saying is, Hounds make bad decisions. It comes with the territory. I think you have to be willing to do stupid things if you’re going to Hound. We’re hardwired that way. Pike understood that. I think if he were still alive, he’d probably give Anthony the ass-kicking of his life, and then take him in, and teach him so he never made that kind of mistake again. It’s up to Anthony to pull his life together. There’s a good chance he’ll find something better than Hounding, safer than Hounding, before I let him in the pack.”

“You think that’s how Pike would want you to run this place?”

“I think that’s how I’m going to run it. When someone wants to take over, they can run it their way. Until then, I make the rules. If you don’t want to follow those rules, no one’s saying you have to stay.”

I leaned back. “I hope you won’t leave. Not over Anthony. He’s not worth it.”

Davy gritted his teeth again and looked out the window. Not much to see out there, just the roofline of Get Mugged and a few lights shining through the rain.

I waited. Gave him some space to think, some time to breathe.

Zayvion, who had been silent this whole time, stayed where he was, sitting in one of the couches behind Davy, in my line of vision, watching Davy, me, and the door, without looking like he was doing any of those things.

The rain pounded harder, wind kicking it across the window. It felt suddenly much colder in here, as if night had crept unnoticed through the seams of the walls and sunk down into all the shadows of the room.

“Things aren’t . . . aren’t what I want,” Davy said quietly.

“Hounding?”

“Everything.”

“You want some time off?”

He shook his head. “More time only messes with my head. I can’t even sleep, well, not enough. Not really. Not since . . .” He stared out the window, and I watched his eyes shift, as if he could see someone there.

“Sometimes I think I can feel her.”

I didn’t let my surprise show. “Who? Tomi?”

He nodded. “When she’s hurt. I think when she’s cutting. . . .”

“That seems a little strange, doesn’t it?” I asked gently.

He laughed, a short huff. “You think?” He looked back over at me, gave me the half grin that I hadn’t seen in weeks. “Just a little strange?”

I had no idea what to say to that. Davy didn’t know about the Authority. He just thought Zayvion was my boyfriend, who sometimes hired out as a bodyguard. Since Davy didn’t know about the Authority, he also didn’t know about the kinds of magic the Authority kept hidden. And other things, like the magically half-man, half-beast Greyson, who had been using Tomi to try to trap me, and dig my dad out of my brain. Zay was careful not to use much magic around Davy, and I was trying my best to keep who knew what straight.

Blood magic had been used to hurt Davy. And Blood magic was . . . intimate. It dug into your body and senses, deep and hard, and offered you pleasure—so long as you did everything the caster wanted you to do. It tied you to the caster in ways other magic disciplines did not.

There was a reason people mixed it with drugs and sex.

And there was a reason it was illegal.

Davy might know some of that, but I couldn’t tell him that Blood magic could be mixed with dark magic to do very bad things. Things that were done to him. Things that stained your soul.

I glanced over at Zayvion. He was frowning, staring at the back of Davy’s head. I was pretty sure he couldn’t actually see inside Davy’s brain, but for a minute I kind of wished he could.

“You gonna call the psych ward?” Davy asked.

“What? Why would I do that? You’re no crazier than the rest of us.”

Davy relaxed a little.

I couldn’t believe he’d really been worried I’d do that.

“Blood magic is pretty rough stuff,” I said. “And Tomi was using it. That . . . man she was working for made her use it. I know she doesn’t remember that.” I didn’t tell him I knew she couldn’t remember what she had done to Davy—what Greyson had made her do to him—because someone in the Authority had taken away her memory of it. “But I’m the one who found you in the park, and there was definitely Blood magic involved. It can take a while for the effects of that to fade.”

This is where living three different lives is tricky.

Spreadsheet. Still needed one. Because a woman with as many holes in her memory as I have should not be allowed to try to juggle all these secrets.

“You think that’s it?” he asked.

“Yes. I mean, it’s possible you’re just the sensitive sort, lonely and all that.”

He grinned. “Right.”

“It’s more possible magic messed you up a little. Tomi hit you pretty hard. Magic hasn’t been in use long enough for us to know everything it can do to a person. You might be sensitive to Tomi, to her pain for a while.

“If you want, I could find a doctor who might have some experience with this,” I said. “There’s no end to what my father’s fortune can buy.”

“Maybe. I’m not ready to mess with it . . . yet.”

He meant he wasn’t ready to give up feeling Tomi yet. Poor kid had it so bad for her that even if all he could feel was her pain, he was going to keep it.

I guess Anthony wasn’t the only one who needed counseling.

I wondered if anyone in the Authority would know why he was able to feel Tomi’s pain. I made a note to ask. I knew there were doctors in the Authority who specialized in magical wounds.

“Sleep might be a good idea,” I said.

He ran his hand back over his hair, leaving it stuck up on one side. “Yeah. That’s not working so good right now.”

“How about sleeping pills?”

“I hate pills.”

Funny, for a Hound who used booze to cut the pain from magic, it was a little high-handed for him not to want to take a drug that might actually be good for him.

“Then try some warm milk. Eight hours. Sleep.”

“Warm milk? What are you, my mother?” He smiled again, looking for a moment like the Davy I knew.

“I’ll know if you lie about it,” I said.

“Would I lie to you?”

“If you thought you could get away with it.”

I stood and so did he. “You staying?” I asked.

“No. I’ve had enough of this place for one night. I’m going home. I have sleep to catch up on, apparently.”

Zay stood too, and we all walked out the door and were down on the street in the rain in no time. We didn’t say anything else, even though a hundred things were going through my head. All one hundred were things I couldn’t tell Davy.

“Night,” Davy said.

“See you,” I said.

Davy hunched his shoulders, and crossed the street to his car. Zay and I made it to the parking lot, and managed to get under cover before we were soaked.

“Home?” Zay asked, after starting the car.

“How much time do we have before the meeting?”

“It’s only seven o’clock.”

I groaned. “Feels like midnight. Home. I want to eat my scone.” I held up the wrinkled, slightly damp bag I still had in my hand. Maybe I’d get a chance at a shower too, or maybe Zayvion would crawl into bed with me for a little bit.

The void stone necklace was still in the cup holder where I’d left it. I had worried it was making me dizzy, sucking magic out of me too quickly. But right now I was feeling a little edgy, the magic in me uncomfortably hot. The whole thing with Anthony and Davy bothered me, but even worse was the problem with Violet and the disks.

As soon as I thought about her, my dad scratched at the backs of my eyes. Like I needed a constant reminder of things out of my control.

I could ask Zay to Ground me again. Could recast the Linger spell that had apparently worn off. Or I could put on the necklace.

Right now, I wanted easy.

I put on the necklace, and sighed as it settled against my skin. Magic cooled, slowed. Dad stopped scratching. I felt like I’d just taken a painkiller.

Nice.

I watched Zay drive, city lights and shadows sliding down his dark skin, highlighting his strong features. The windshield wipers kept a steady beat. Zay didn’t look happy.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Ask me after the meeting tonight.”

Right. There was another thing to worry about. “How does the Authority usually handle storms like this?”

“Not well.”

“Ha-ha. I’m serious.”

He looked over at me. His eyes sparked with gold, with magic. It was a feral look, the eyes of a killer.

“So am I. Magic doesn’t follow the rules when it’s being thrown around in a storm. If a front is big enough, and organized enough that they know it’s going to hit Portland, and if the wells are somehow being drained by it . . .”

He shook his head and flicked on the turn signal, changing lanes.

“A lot of things could happen. We’ll just have to deal with things as they come.” He eased the car into the parking lot behind my apartment and parked.

“That’s it?” I asked. “But this isn’t the first wild-magic storm that’s hit the city. Every building has a storm rod to channel magic strikes. Dad knew what he was doing when he invented those.”

“They help. But if the storm is big enough, the storm rods won’t be enough.” Zay turned off the engine and twisted in his seat toward me. “We’ll handle it. It’s just different this time.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to be there.” He smiled a little, as if his own honesty surprised him. “These are the sorts of things I didn’t think through when I was lobbying to get you accepted into the Authority. But now, knowing you’ll be a part of our fight, of our struggle, against magic . . . that you could get hurt—” He glanced away. “I don’t know. I know you’re a fighter, Allie. I just wish you didn’t have to be.”

Actually, that was sweet of him. “I wish you didn’t have to be too.”

He chuckled, and I liked how his eyes curved into crescents. “I’d fight even if they told me I couldn’t.”

“We’re a lot alike that way. You know I never back down from a challenge.”

He reached over, brushed my hair back, and tucked it behind my ear. “Not the safest way to go through life.”

“Maybe not. But it’s my way.”

He searched my face, his hand paused to cup the edge of my jaw. I knew he wanted to say something. I could feel his concern like a hard palm against the base of my spine.

I was suddenly aware of our connection, of our shared need for the other to be safe, and our knowledge that it was unlikely either of us would go through life safe and unscathed. It was hard to face how much we both dreaded the thought of the other in pain.

I drew away.

“You know what I’d really like right now?” I said, changing the subject, and trying to change the mood in the car. “A hot shower. Want to join me?”

He leaned his wide shoulders back against his seat and stared out the window for a second or two. He nodded. “Hot shower sounds good.”

A wave of cold prickled over my skin, a slow, biting chill. Zay rubbed at the back of his neck. He felt it too. Magic. Pulling, twisting. Magic moving as if stirred by a wind, as if unsettled by a storm coming over the horizon. Magic that we’d have to deal with soon.