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taxicab.
    “It’s going to cost much more

than that,” Mimi said. “Let’s just say however much it is, you’ll never be able to afford

it.”
    “Oh really?” Kingsley cocked an eyebrow. His signature move. Guaranteed to pull in the

ladies. She could read it all over his arrogant face. “Never say

never.”
    The hotel they’d booked was a

modest one: three stars, and that was stretching it. It was miles from the beach,

and the elevator was broken when they arrived. Mimi spent a listless night on itchy sheets and

was surprised to find the team in extraordinarily good spirits the next morning. Well. Someone

had to like percale.
    Kingsley sat at the breakfast

table looking newly energized, and not just from the four shots of espresso in his

café con leche . He drank coffee like some vampires drank blood. “We’ve been thinking

like humans,” he sighed. “Looking for suspects, interrogating witnesses. These are Croatan we are up against. And they took the time to manipulate a memory that led us

everywhere but here.”
    “It means she’s here. In

Rio. I get it.” Mimi nodded. ‘They sent us as far away as possible.”
    “She’s probably right under

our nose,” Kingsley said. “In one of the most populous cities in the

world.”
    “Ten million people,” Mimi

said. ‘ that’s a lot.” Her heart began to sink just thinking about how many more

dreams they would have to read, how many endless nights they would have to spend chasing shadows

in the dark.
    She watched Kingsley walk away

from the table and over to the buffet, where the hotel had laid out a full breakfast: platters of

cheese buns and salted biscuits; freshly cut papayas, mangoes, and watermelons. Bowls of

avocado cream. Chafing dishes filled with slices of honey ham and crispy bacon.
    He picked up a watermelon

wedge and took a bite, standing in front of the full-length windows that had a panoramic view of

the city. Mimi followed his gaze out to the clustered hillsides. The favelas were as crowded and

structurally ingenious as ant farms, precariously towering over the cliffs, a Byzantine maze of

ghettos housing Rio’s urban poor.
    “Amazing, aren’t they? A city

within a city, really,” Mimi said. “It’s a wonder they all don’t come crashing down during flood

season.”
    Kingsley put down the melon

rind. ‘The shanty towns . . . of course. The Silver Bloods have always been drawn to

chaos and disorder. That’s where we’ll start.”
    “Are you serious?” Mimi

groaned. “No one goes there unless they have to.”

NINE

Bliss

    The Visitor was annoyed. Bliss

felt his irritation like a blister. It was afternoon, as far as she could tell. The days slipped

by one after the other so easily that it was hard to figure out what time it was, but Bliss tried

to keep track as best she could. When he was quiet, it was night, and when she could sense his

awareness, it was day.
    Usually she would get a

glimpse of the outside world when he woke up. Like yesterday morning, with the white shutters.

Then the blinds would shut again. Only when he let his guard down was Bliss able to get a quick

image of the outside world.
    Like now, for the Visitor had

been taken by surprise.
    One minute they were striding

through the house, and the next they were smack in the middle of a bunch of animals: grotesque

and pitiful. Ugly.
    What was this? What was she

looking at? Then she realized she was seeing the world through his eyes. Only when she pushed

herself a little harder did she see that they were just among an ordinary group of people. A lady

wearing a beige suit and sunglasses was ushering a family through the foyer. They looked like the

typical Hamptons crowd, Dad in a pastel alligator shirt with a white tennis sweater over his

shoulders, Mom in lavender seersucker, the kids, two boys, in miniature versions of Dad’s

outfit.
    “Oh, hello . . . I’m sorry. We

were