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occurrence.
    Now, blood is all that matters—the blood that is shared, and the blood that is spilled.
    Maybe that’s why Dustin hasn’t been my first concern, or even my second. Looking back now, I struggle to find the feelings I had for him. There is the warmth of something familiar and comfortable, a friend that’s been a long standing fixture. But Dustin, for all that he’s been in my life for almost ten years, isn’t someone I’ve ever bled with or for. We had a safe life, a
good
life, in Hellspawn.
    I haven’t worried about him, because I’ve never needed to. Because he isn’t my whole family and closest friend. He’s Dustin. The goofy boy from downstairs who laughed and teased, who grew into a surrogate protector, and someone whose kisses could melt me like butter.
    He was comfortable and steady, and I could easily have been happy with him, if the Haven hadn’t fallen.
    But it did.
    And with the uncertainty I am now swimming in, there is no room for comfort—there is only the driving need to find Collin. It’s a need that cramps in my belly and makes my mouth dry, my hands shake. It’s a fear that that makes Finn at my side not only tolerable, but welcome.
    Finn would move heaven and earth and face a horde alone to find Collin. Which means he is the only person I want helping me.
     

Chapter 14. Drifters
    It’s funny that I became accustomed to Finn’s strange kind of influence so quickly. It was so effortless there in 18, it was easy to take it for granted. As natural as breathing, it was something that made doors open and annoyed me, but made things too easy, until it was gone.
    There are no Aldermen scraping to meet us. There are no house calls from mysterious doctors in the middle of the night, no empty, dusty homes standing waiting for his return. There is no whispers of vice clubs and Undergrounds. We are met with closed doors and a few Walkers bored enough to entertain our questions.
    By noon, I’m furious and more than a little scared. We know nothing more than we did yesterday.
    “Calm down,” Finn says under his breath, steering me down a market street. The Haven natives watch us with thinly veiled curiosity.
    “Too long,” I mutter, and his grip on my arm tightens a little. Not enough that I wince—just enough to get my attention and jerk me back to the necessity of keeping my calm.
    “Talk to the women. I’ll see if the men will tell me anything.”
    I shoot him a quick look—Finn isn’t usually comfortable with a divide and conquer strategy. Tiny lines of stress bracket his eyes and lips. I nod.
    The women are standoffish. They eye me warily as I separate from Finn, and I watch as they appraise us. Appraise him. There are more than a few admiring stares as we collectively watch his leather clad backside retreat.
    Even I have to admit it's a helluva nice ass.
    "Is he attached?" A girl to my left asks. She's pretty, just shy of the unhealthy side of thin, with short cropped black hair and the outline of a gun at her left hip. She's got enough innocence mixed with
don't fuck with me
to make her interesting.
    Finn would like her. As much as he likes anyone.
    I want to claw her eyes out. Instead, I shrug lightly. "I think he needs information."
    A few women turn to look at me, their gazes harsher than they had been on Finn. Of course. Women are our own worst critics.
    "What kind of information?"
    I hesitate—Finn built our cover story, and I should probably stick to it. But I know what hook to dangle to get these women to help me. I nod at Finn. "My brother is his partner. He disappeared about a week ago—left behind a code that pointed us here. He was with my boyfriend. We're trying to find them."
    The girl frowns a little. "We don't get a lot of visitors to the Haven."
    "Then these two would make an impression," I say with a thin smile. I'm struggling to hold my temper when what I want to do is smack her and demand answers. Not that she would even have them.
    "I don't know much. My