Marcus vaulted across the rooftop, adjusting his comms, praying the shielding would hold out against the bursts. He’d lost Teorin in the chase. Feelers were out, but he needed a lead fast.

  If he didn’t find Teorin first, his brother might end up dead.

  He skidded to a stop at the roof’s edge. Below, the streets were busier than they should have been. Too many people. And the wrong kind.

  A woman with a dragon tattoo curling up her neck loitered near an alley, watching the street, but not in the casual way of a pedestrian. A man leaning against a light post shifted just slightly as Marcus scanned the area.

  Novem? Another Clan? Who else was looking for Teorin?

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  His earpiece crackled. Marcus flicked it on.

  A gravelly voice came through. A hired street thug. “I think I got your Pulser. Even pushed him a little. He’s tense, but didn’t bite. Looked like he was thinking about it, though, when I went after his girl.”

  Marcus frowned. His girl? Hadn’t they just met? They’d jumped out of the building together, but that didn’t mean they actually knew each other. Teorin wasn’t the type to—

  No. Not the point.

  “Describe both of them.”

  “Girl is blonde, twenties. Kid’s got a green wing jacket.”

  That was Teorin.

  Marcus’ grip tightened. "Has anyone else spotted them yet?"

  A breathy chuckle. “This means I get paid, right?”

  Marcus’ voice was hard. “If you answer the question.”

  A pause. Then, “I don’t think anyone has seen them. It’s the edge of town, but if he doesn’t ditch that jacket soon, it’ll be flies to honey.”

  Marcus exhaled sharply, pressing his fingers against his temple. Time was running out.

  “Where?” Marcus said, already moving.