"Give me a week," I said.

  "Two days."

  "In two days the case may be solved."

  "Then two days makes sense."

  He turned to leave but stopped before leaping over the wall.

  "Word of warning," he growled. "Try that again, and I will tear heart out."

  In one seemingly effortless move, the werewolf bounded over the brick wall at the back of the garden and disappeared from sight. I waited until I was sure he had gone far enough away, before turning to look directly at where Catalin hid in the darkness.

  "You can come out now," I told her.

  She let out a little growl and emerged from behind a leafy bush.

  "How long did you know I was there?" she asked.

  "The moment you got out of your car, I knew you were returning."

  "You were watching me?"

  "I have tasted your blood, Catalin. I know exactly where you are at all times."

  "Damn it all to hell," she swore. "That's it? You've got a bead on me forever now?"

  I could have eased her mind, but I chose not to. I needed her to believe there was no point in hiding from me. The more open with me she was, the more I could trust her.

  What I would do with that trust, I wasn't sure yet.

  "Special Agent Adams and Senior Operative Forster have arrived," I announced. "We should greet them."

  "Hold on a minute, buster," she snapped. "I've got more questions. Lots of questions. For starters, what the fuck was that guy? A werewolf?"

  "Like I said, there are more creatures than vampires on this Earth."

  "And who is the All-Mother?"

  "Catalin, they approach the front door. We must greet them as though nothing has happened. The less they see of our world, the better."

  "It's your world, not mine." The argument was weak and she knew it.

  "Ilya will return," I told her. "I don't know how, but somehow I have become a problem for the All-Mother."

  "Your problem, not…"

  "Damn it!" I snapped. "He is one of our warriors. The last resort. Sent in when all else fails. If I am unable to prove you are no threat to The Involition, then he will be tasked with taking your head and the heads of all of your colleagues. You heard our conversation. You know what's at stake. We must contain this."

  I ran a hand through my hair in a frustrated move to punctuate the next statement.

  "Your life and the lives of the people you care for depend on it."

  Cat

  He was lying. Well, lying by degrees, I thought. Some of what he said was true, but not all of it. Raphael Nonpareil was manipulating me and he thought I couldn't see it.

  My fingers tingled and my gut squeezed. Whatever sort of magia those two things were, they told me not to trust this man before me.

  But the fact that I had that warning, the fact that I must be using magia to sense these things at all, made the rest of what he said frightening.

  Because Rafe had negotiated just two more days for me to figure all of this out, deal with him and this Involition crap, and oh, kill a werewolf warrior sent to assassinate me if I proved to wield magic.

  Which, I clearly did.

  Good. Great. Now we were cooking with gas.

  I glared at Raphael and then spun on my heel and headed toward the reception desk. I would protect Harlee and Brant and the others if it were the last thing I ever did.

  It may turn out that way in the end. It had only been one day, after all, since a vampire walked into my life and a werewolf threatened it.

  Fuck! Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck!

  Now I was really mad.

  I stalked out into the night and saw a familiar convertible tear into the parking lot, almost taking the entrance on two wheels. Harlee had an enormous shit-eating grin on her face while Brant was as white as a sheet. I'd been in the same car as Harlee before and seen my life flash before my eyes at more than one intersection. I knew how the special agent felt.

  The car screeched to a halt a mere few feet away from me. If I hadn't been keeping an eye on the vampire slightly behind me, I might have taken a few hasty steps back out of the landing zone. As it was, Rafe had reached out to me, as if to save me, and then thought better of it; lowering his hand to his side.

  Maybe seeing me get hit by a Barbie Car was a good way to end the evening in his mind. Whatever the reason, Harlee avoided colliding with me and Rafe saved face. I didn't think vampires were meant to rescue people from their wreckless co-workers. It probably went against the rules or something.

  I needed to learn the rules, I reminded myself.

  Harlee jumped out of the driver's side as Brant climbed out more slowly on shaking legs. I smirked in the FBI agent's direction and then shook my head at the senior operative.

  "You in a hurry, Harl?" I asked.

  "Brant wouldn't let me put the top down," she said, throwing a pout in his direction.

  "It's the hair gel," I told her, straight-faced.

  "Hardy-har, Cat," Brant drawled. Nothing kept the good ol' boy down long.

  "Did you meet with the White Rose?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest so I could tuck my fingers under my armpits. They'd started tingling again.

  "Yeah," Brant said, leaning back against the car. I think he still needed a little support. "But her cornbread ain't done in the middle."

  I blinked at the man.

  "She was weird," Harlee translated. "Tried to keep us there, even when it was clear she knew nothing about the container load of kids."

  "She wasn't trying to hide something?" I asked.

  "Nah, she was all but clueless," Brant offered.

  I trusted the Fed to assess the situation appropriately.

  Scowling down at the pavement, I thought things through. Gio had sent us to May Tree and so had Harlee's contact. Two on the list Tac had given us sent us to the White Rose. That was a hell of a coincidence. I needed to go through Tac's list more carefully. Someone, somewhere in our line of attack, was screwing with us.

  I lifted my head and stared at Raphael. "You have anything to add to this discussion, Special Agent Nonpareil?" I asked.

  He shrugged his big shoulders. "What is there to add, Catalin? It's a dead-end."

  He said that with such finality, I had to wonder if he meant something more than just the White Rose tip-off we'd had.

  Harlee let out a massive yawn then. Brant joined her. It was almost comical to watch. As if they both got hit by the same sleeping bug.

  My fingers stopped tingling all of a sudden.

  Not a bug, I thought, my stomach tightening, my mouth going dry. A spell.

  "Go home, Harlee," I said. A knee-jerk reaction; a sudden need to get her out of here.

  "Not gonna argue with you," she said. "See you guys tomorrow."

  In seconds she was gone.

  "I'm hittin' the sack, too," Brant said between another humongous yawn. I watched him go into the hotel, noticing the receptionist was back at the desk and Brant's and Raphael's bags were sitting there waiting for them.

  "Are you doing this?" I asked the still night air.

  "Doing what?" Nonpareil asked.

  "Making them suddenly sleepy. Throwing roadblocks in the investigation's path. Wild goose chases, that's what we've got and it's not normal."

  "I don't know what you're talking about. It's late, Catalin. They are tired. And you must have faced this kind of situation before. Not every case can be solved in a day."

  "Can this case be solved, Raphael?" I asked, not sure where that question had come from.

  "Does it matter? You're going to give it a damn good try anyway, aren't you?"

  I shook my head and flexed my fingers. They were no longer tingling, but I felt all jittery inside.

  "I don't trust you," I whispered.

  "Understandable."

  "There's something strange going on here."

  "I'm a vampire. You saw a werewolf almost change tonight. Of course, in your eyes, something strange is going on."

  "It's more than that," I muttered. "Get some sleep," I ordered, heading toward my car. "Or go hang upside down from the rafters. Whatever it is you lot do." I turned back to look at him. "Oh, is there a manual I can read or something? I need to know what I'm up against here."

  He stared at me for a suspended moment. "There is only one rule in our world, Catalin," he finally said. "Obey The Involition."

  "Or what?"

  "You do not want to find out."

  He turned on his heel and disappeared into the hotel. I couldn't see Brant anymore, so hopefully he'd made it to his room without collapsing.

  That had been magia. I was sure of it. I hadn't sensed anything. Other than the tingle in my fingertips, of course. I couldn't tell if magic was being wielded, my body just knew something was off. It would have been handy to have a magia radar. Some way to know for sure that a spell — or whatever they called it — was being cast.

  At least I hadn't been subjected to the same need to sleep all of a sudden. My body was beyond exhausted, but my mind was whirring. I wouldn't get any shut-eye anytime soon. I decided I needed to do a little digging.

  In the distance, somewhere out in the Wadestown suburb, a dog howled. A long lonely sound that drifted on the still night air.

  "Not a dog," I whispered. The howl turned from mournful to threatening; the hair on my arms lifted. Some deep, long-forgotten primordial fear gripped me, and then I got my shit together and climbed into my car.

  If I locked the doors when I usually didn't, then so what? It was dark out tonight and I felt a little better.

  The drive across town to Giordano's was tense but uneventful. I didn't see the flash of a wolf running in the shadows at my side. No bats flew overhead. I kept the heat on and the doors locked and turned into Eva Street without having seen anything out of the ordinary.

  Gio's was closed, but I could still see movement inside the bar. I found a parking spot right outside, which wasn't surprising at this late hour. Before I climbed out of the vehicle, I checked the laneway and the buildings that surrounded it. Nothing stood out, but all of a sudden, walking around the CBD in the dead of night didn't seem quite so safe anymore.

  And it had nothing to do with my fingers tingling. Right now, they felt chilled, as if I needed to rub them and warm them up. I ignored the feeling and climbed out of the car. Straining my ears, I stood still, the door to the car open and providing a quick escape while I listened to the night sounds.

  Cars out on Dixon Street. A cat screeching. The rumble of a city going to sleep. The clang of something inside Gio's; glasses or a pot or something. No howl or growl, no scuffle of a foot or tread of a shoe.

  I closed the door, locked the car, and made my way over to Gio's.

  Banging on the door got some attention after about a minute. I watched Gio dusting off his hands as he made his way through the dimly lit bar. He cracked the door and peered out at me.

  Something moved on the side of his neck. My eyes flicked down to it, but whatever it was had disappeared. Maybe I was seeing things.

  "Can I come in, Gio?" I asked.

  "It's late, Cat. I'm about to lock up."

  "You sent me on a wild goose chase, Gio. I need answers."

  "Cara," he exclaimed. "I told you what I'd heard on the grapevine. I didn't say whether it was accurate or not."

  "Are you actually Italian, Gio, or is this an act?"

  He stared at me a while longer and then huffed out a put-upon breath. "Come in. It's dark out."

  Not 'it's cold out', but 'it's dark out'. That meant something. And considering the night I'd had, I was beginning to understand Gio's meaning.

  "You got rid of your sidekick, I see," Gio said, heading to the bar and moving behind it.

  I wasn't sure if he was placing the bartop between us for a reason, or if he just wanted to pour us a drink. As he actually did that — poured us two glasses of a Montepulciano — I went with the latter.

  "Dropped him off at his hotel," I said, accepting the glass of red.

  Gio grunted as if that amused him.

  "You recognised him, Gio," I said, taking a sip of the offered drink. I was starving, and chugging back wine was probably not the wisest idea on an empty stomach.

  As if he'd read my thoughts, Gio pulled out a small bowl and a pack of peanuts and poured them into the dish. I took a fistful and started munching.

  "You are very clever, cara. You have a smart mind."

  "And you haven't answered any of my questions yet."

  He heaved his big bulk onto a stool behind the bar and took a measured sip of the wine.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," he said.

  "You're lying."

  "What do you want from me, Cat? I helped you tonight. Told you I'd been approached by the vile scum who have those bambini."

  "And then sent us to the White Rose who knew nothing."

  "Did she?" He shrugged.

  I studied the old man before me, searching his face for a clue to his honesty. I'd trusted tip-offs from him before. And yes, more than one hadn't panned out, but I'd believed his desire to help. Gio and the NCB had an understanding. We protected him from the police and he gave us intel on the local criminal scene.

  But something felt off about it all tonight. Maybe I'd just had the blinkers torn off.

  "He's a vampire," I said, taking another sip of my drink. It was good wine. He'd pulled out his personal stash for this tête-à-tête.

  Gio's eyes met mine across the bar. He said nothing. I cocked my head to the side and smiled.

  "Not surprised, Gio? Not even worried about my sanity?"

  He kept silent but also kept eye contact.

  And then out of nowhere, a tattoo appeared on his neck.

  I jumped back; my hand on my holster, ready to draw my gun.

  Snakes and leafy vines.

  And then the fucking things moved.

  Cat

  "What the fuck?" I muttered.

  The tattoo disappeared again.

  "You can hide it?"

  He nodded his head.

  "Can Raphael?"

  Another nod of his head.

  "Why doesn't he? That tattoo — whatever the fuck it is — is not conducive to the FBI."

  "I am a barrandari. He is a jagole. There are different rules for each of us."

  "What do those words mean?"

  He sighed. "I am treading very close to the edge of an abyss here, Cat." I noticed his accent was gone. I couldn't place it now. It sounded a little like Rafe's but not.

  "You can't say much," I said. "I get it. Heard that once or twice tonight."

  "He has revealed himself to you?" He sounded stunned.

  "I can be very persuasive."

  "You are dealing with things far beyond your control, Catalin. Take care."

  I dropped my hand from the holster finally and returned to my seat.

  "Whose side are you on, Gio?" If Gio was actually his name.

  "There is only one side, Cat."

  "The Involition."

  He swore in a language I didn't recognise. It certainly wasn't Italian.

  "What spell have you cast over Nonpareil, cara?" he asked. "He has told you too much already."

  "I gathered that, but he's also told me fuck-all. So, if you have a shred of decency in you, if our countless interactions have meant anything other than business as usual, then help me out here. The vultures are circling. I saw a werewolf tonight."

  He studied me for a long time and then said, "A barrandari is a spy. A jagole is a watchman."

  "You're a spy for The Involition." He looked away, ducking his head. "What is a watchman?"

  "Someone who has been assigned a target to watch."

  "For The Involition?"

  "Everything is for The Involition, Catalin. If you take anything away from here tonight, take that. The Involition rules."

  "Not me," I snapped.

  He let out a long breath of air, playing with the stem of his wine glass. "You must know you are part of this world too, Catalin."

  Not a question. Just a statement of fact.

  "I'm beginning to see that," I admitted.

  "Then you are subject to their dominion, too."

  "I haven't signed up for any such thing, Gio."

  "You have no choice."

  "They just want to kill me if I wield magic. I don't," I lied. "So no harm, no foul, right?"

  "Is that what he told you? They want you dead?" He laughed then. It sounded bleak and desperate. "They don't want you dead, sorgina."

  "And that word?" I said, my mouth beyond dry now despite the excellent vintage we were drinking. "What does that mean?"

  "What do you think it means, cara?"

  I looked into my wine glass, not wanting to put into words what I already knew in my heart. Taking a fortifying sip of the wine, I said, "Witch."

  Gio nodded. "Now, I have said all I can say without activating the curse. You should go. And maybe not come back again for a while, yes?"

  "What curse?" I said, doggedly pushing for more.

  "Catalin," Gio said. "You could do me much harm by pursuing this. Please, step lightly."

  I studied his face. He still looked like the aged Italian I'd thought him. Was he a werewolf like the one from the Wadestown Arms? Or was he a vampire like Rafe? And if so, why so old-looking? Or was he something else?

  "What are you, Gio?" I asked. "Are you like me?"

  He scoffed. "Your kind do not do this type of work."

  My kind. Witches. "Why not?"

  "That, cara, I cannot say. There are…"

  "…rules," I finished for him.

  "Please, go, cara. I need to tend to my wounds."

  I looked at him sharply, but I saw no wounds on his body. I saw no sign of him being in physical distress.

  But I did see the desperate need in his eyes for me to leave him.

  Had I hurt him by asking so many questions? Gio had a soft spot for me, I knew that. It could have been part of his act, but I didn't think so. Our past interactions felt too genuine to me and my gut told me he did his best to give me intel that helped.

  That's why I'd come here, I realised. I'd trusted him to a certain degree to not put me wrong, so the false tip-off to go speak to the White Rose had sent up a red flag in my mind. Gio wasn't usually that far off.