Sykes closed the front door of his house behind Nat, who came bearing food.

Watchful, Ben studied the detective’s manner, looking for signals that there might be a break in the case.

“Nice place.” Nat looked around. He looked even more tired, but he had been working with Vanity for many hours.

“Glad you like it,” Sykes said.

Ben and Willow tried not to curl their lips at the smells wafting from a stack of obviously foam boxes in several plastic bags slung from Nat’s long fingers.

Sykes steered Nat to the kitchen, where the table had been moved to the middle and six chairs placed around it.

Marley had done the honors laying the table and had even popped outside and cut a couple of bird-of-paradise blooms for the center of the table.

“Is Vanity back at the Brandt house?” Willow asked. After Nat took Vanity downtown, Willow had been left alone with her staff and Marley to work on the Venetian celebration for Chloe.

“Bucky drove her,” Nat said.

“We got a lot done,” Willow said. “But we’ll have to start again early tomorrow.” She would have to return in the morning, with as many staff as she could scrape up. Even Zinnia would pitch in tomorrow.

“Ridiculous,” Nat muttered, plopping his plastic sacks on the table, apparently unaware that he had knocked dishes and flatware askew in the process. “This beats eating at the precinct and having to watch out for Molyneux.”

Gray, as solidly impressive as ever, turned the corners of his mouth down. “Here. There. Foo Foo takeout is Foo Foo takeout. Why someone from Indonesia decides to run a Cantonese restaurant, I’ll never figure out.” He started unloading the sacks. “But I guess I am glad we’re not trying to do this in your office. All I could imagine was Molyneux’s face appearing at the door, followed by one of us punching his lights out.”

“We couldn’t have gone there anyway,” Nat said. “This is no joke—I’ve talked to Blades, and missing persons. As long as the powers that be are determined to hide the truth from the people, we’re working semialone. Or I’m working both inside and outside the law would be more accurate. We’ve got two patterns going on. Three killings and seven other missing people for a grand total of ten victims.”

“People go missing all the time,” Gray said. “That can’t even be all of them for New Orleans in a few days.”

“It isn’t,” Nat agreed. “But these seven have something in common. They are all young, sexy, in great shape—and they appear to be unmarried orphans.”

Marley laughed. “You’re kidding. How do you figure that out? And what does it matter?”

“It could be eight now,” Nat said, ignoring the amusement. “A guy who moonlights as a trainer—at a gym—didn’t show up for three clients early this morning, and the gym says he’s worked there for two years and never done this before. He didn’t go to his regular job. His car’s where it always is. No one can reach him.”

Her movements were subtle, but Willow’s hand went into her purse on one of the chairs.

“Okay,” Nat said, eyeing her. “What have you got there?”

She cleared her throat and shook her head. She pulled her hand out of her purse and shrugged.

“Are you carrying?” Nat asked.

“I’ve got a license.” Damn the man’s cheek anyway.

“What good do you think that thing would be? Do you think guns bother what we’re up against?” Ben didn’t look happy.

“We don’t know if they won’t. It’s better than nothing.”

“We’ve got a lot more than nothing,” Sykes pointed out. “If the Embran didn’t think we have something they want, why would they come after us? We have old skills and talents, Willow, very, very old. We are powerful people.”

“So you think this is all about these whack jobs wanting the Millet magic?” Nat said.

“Not magic,” the rest of them intoned in unison.

“Whatever,” Nat said. “I’ve got a theory and I want to know what the rest of you think about it.”

Willow saw the way Ben and Sykes looked at each other. She deliberately concentrated on Ben until he met her eyes. If she had to ask to be recognized, she’d better start practicing.

“What is it?” Ben said.

“You and Sykes are up to something. What’s going on?”

“Good job. We’re about to tell Nat what he’s already thinking and we expect him to either be furious that we’ve stolen his thunder, or relieved. Hope for the best.”

“You think the Embran intend to take over New Orleans, don’t you?” Sykes said to Nat. “You think this is a plan a long time in the making, and now everything’s coming together for them. Or they hope it is.”

Marley sat down abruptly on one of the old chairs. “That’s what I think, too,” she said.

“It’s some sort of undercover war,” Nat said. He shook his head. “Do you have any idea what would happen to me if the force found out the kind of things I’m thinking and saying? I’d never work again. I’d be in a padded cell.”

“You’re among like-minded friends,” Gray said. “I agree with you, too.”

Ben stared at Willow. “What we don’t know for sure is why you’ve been picked out as the prime target.”

She shivered. “I don’t know why.”

“It could be because they know you haven’t been practicing your powers too long, so they think you’re weaker than the rest of us.”

Willow tried not to be offended by Sykes’s suggestion, but she was. “They’d better not think I’m a pushover. I’m as capable as any of you.”

“That’s something you won’t be testing out,” Ben said. He stood close to her. “Understood?”

“You can sort that out between you later,” Nat told them. “You’re going to want to know why we’re putting the three recorded deaths together with a particular group of missing persons.”

Willow’s stomach dropped.

“I already told you what the seven—or probably eight have in common. But two of them have something really strong.”

“Spit it out,” Gray said impatiently. He rubbed Marley’s shoulders as if he were worried about her.

Sykes stretched and swung his torso from side to side. “Let me guess. More bits of Embran eggs.”

Nat ignored him. “Willow, who do you know who moonlights as a trainer at a gym?”

She blinked rapidly before her hands flew to her face. “I didn’t think of that. Fabio does.”