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all this out. You could have read the Svart troll’s mind and gotten intel, couldn’t you?”
    “I’m glad you saved yourself. That was more important than all the intel in the world.”
    Always thinking of others. This was the Quinn she knew.
    The ball of guilt inside her expanded a little more and threatened to choke her. Should she ask him now about what that witch Kizira had said and get it off her chest? Her palms were damp with indecision, but it would have to wait. “You still didn’t answer my question about reading the troll’s mind.”
    Quinn shrugged, the movement as refined as his impeccable clothes. “I might have found out something from this Svart, but they are highly trained to prevent being broken during interrogation, and taught to fight to the death. He may have had an iron-tight mind, or there could have been a trap waiting to attack the mind of someone who probed him.”
    In other words, the Svart might have raped Quinn’s mind in return.
    In that case, she should be thankful she killed the Svart, because even with the risk of danger to himself, Quinn would have tried to retrieve information.
    “None of this makes sense. I thought trolls were more interested in stealing bling than fighting. The ones I’ve met are generally pretty simple creatures and kill only for food. Think this Svart could have been working with the local trolls we’ve found in these attacks?”
    “Not exactly. Based upon what I read in the briefings about the interrogations, I think the Svart have brainwashed some of the local trolls, who seem to know very little beyond a compulsive urge to fight with gangs in cemeteries.”
    That would explain the local trolls being in the gang battles, but not the reason for the constant fighting. Evalle brought up the only connection she could see. “Why cemeteries?”
    “That’s a good question. Perhaps everyone has focused too much on the gang element and not the locations.” Supporting his elbow with one hand, Quinn tapped his chin as he scanned the activity around them. His gaze settled on Evalle. “Why was the Svart in this particular cemetery and why did he attack you?”
    “Have no idea. Maybe I was closest.” She ran through recent similar battles in her mind. “This cemetery is larger than the others. Oakland is older and downtown … more ghosts … history. Who knows?” Swallowing still hurt Evalle’s throat. She cupped her neck, glad for chain burn and some bruising as the worst of her injuries, and looked again at the headless human. “Wait. There is one difference here. This was the first battle where a Rías shifted.”
    “Ahh,” Quinn said, picking up her train of thought. “Who showed up first? The Rías or the troll?”
    “The Rías started shifting, then I taunted him with kinetic hits to draw him away from humans. That’s when the chain wrapped around my neck.”
    “Perhaps the Svart attacked you to stop you from harming the Rías.”
    “Why would he do that?” She stared at the body of the poor headless guy. He’d probably had no idea he was part beast.
    “Perhaps the Svart was searching cemeteries for the Rías.”
    Could that be? What would a troll want with a Rías when none had even existed—that VIPER knew of—until three weeks ago? Humans had shifted into beasts in a major Rías outbreak, just everyday citizens who’d been clueless that something in their DNA could be triggered by hostility … not just any hostility, but a sentient haze filled with supernatural malevolence that had swept across the city.
    She snapped her fingers. “The outbreaks three weeks ago happened after those predisposed to be Rías entered the fog created by the Medb. That unnatural hostility triggered the Rías to start shifting and attack. This time we had one shift around us . Belador power, used in a hostile situation, might have caused it. Maybe the trolls are behind the gang battles—drawing in Belador power to push the Rías to shift.”
    “But why in