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are they?”
    He
ignored me. A car engine roared, and a pair of headlights pulled in to the end
of the alley. A limo. The door opened from inside. No one got out. I could not
see who sat within.
    Everything, my mother used to say, is connected .
    And I
could, on occasion, be a very patient woman.
    The
man gestured with his gun. Shadows filled the limo. The boys always liked going
for a ride.
    I got
in.

CHAPTER 3
    AN
old man sat inside the limo. He wore a suit. Thick black glasses perched on the
end of his nose. He was bald. He was a zombie.
    The
man with the cell phone began to get in after us, but the zombie held up his
hand and said a word in Russian. The blond hesitated, backed away, and shut the
door. The limo started moving. I opened the minibar and took out a ginger ale.
I needed something sweet.
    The
zombie watched me, a smile curling the corner of his mouth. He was a small,
spindly man, swallowed by the immense seat across from me. His eyes were cold,
his aura black. Older and more deadly than most. Higher up the food chain. But
he should have been running. Engagement with me was a death sentence. Usually.
    Which
meant he had something on me. I had a bad feeling what that was.
    “Hunter
Kiss,” said the zombie. “So infamous. How very interesting finally to meet you
in the flesh.”
    “Sure,”
I replied, sipping my drink. “I’m popular tonight. ”
    His
smile widened. “You look like your mother.”
    My
fingers tightened around the can. The zombie took off his glasses and rubbed
the edge of his suit jacket against the lens. “Your mother never cared for
pleasantries, either. Beautiful woman. But then, your family has always been
striking.” He slipped his glasses back on and blinked, owlishly. “I assume your
wards are nearby?”
    I
snapped my fingers. Zee, Aaz, and Raw coalesced from the shadows. They sat
beside me, all in a row, legs too short for the leather seat. In unison, they
swung their clawed feet, hands clasped in their laps. Deceptively prim. Little
smart-asses. I opened the minibar, and Zee pointed to the whiskey and vodka. I
passed out the bottles.
    The
zombie raised his brow. “How endearing.”
    “You
have no idea.” I felt my heart sink into a dark, hard place. “Are you
responsible for the disappearance of those children in the alley?”
    “I am
responsible for many things. But not that.” He tilted his head, watching Zee
and the others with a curious—and rather unnatural—lack of fear. “I did,
however, retrieve one of them. A boy. That boy you took such interest
in.”
    The
zombie had been watching me. All that time, I never knew it. “You think I
care?”
    He
laughed. “My dear, your mother had the heart of a lion, but you, merely a lamb.
You care. You care too much.”
    Dek
and Mal poked their heads from my hair. Raw tipped whiskey into their small
mouths. I wanted to take the bottle and smash it across the zombie’s human
head. And then exorcise the hell out of him.
    “The
boy,” I said. “If you hurt him—”
    “That
would not be in my interest. He is my protection. Against you.”
    “A
man died last night. Were you involved in that, too?”
    A
faint smile touched his mouth. “There are many players in the game, Hunter. How
many watch you from the shadows, you may never know.”
    That
was a bad answer. I wanted to tap my foot, but kept my leg still. The limo felt
like a cage. “What do you want?”
    “Conversation.
Nothing more. You have my word, on the blood of my Queen.”
    I
leaned back. Zee stilled. “Blood Mama sent you?”
    The
zombie’s expression never changed, but his throat bobbed, and his aura
flickered. “She has concerns.”
    I
held my breath. Blood Mama was the ruler of the first prison ring, and a true
zombie queen, more powerful than all her children combined—and she grew more
powerful with every soul her children inhabited. The pain they made was the
pain she felt, and it fed a hunger that never ended, and never would.
    I had
met her. I had