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something. It’s tied into her abilities, I guess, and the recipient has to be male and receptive.”
    “Who wouldn’t be receptive?” Sam asked. When Nick and Quinn both looked at him, he made an “oh, come on” face. “I’m not saying I would. I mean—”
    “Receptive as in physically capable,” Quinn said. “And there’s no way to test for that or anything. Right?” she confirmed with Nick.
    “As far as I know. But it’s not like anyone teaches this stuff. No one wants it to happen. The legend is that she can only give power to a man, and since he won’t be a natural vessel, he’ll have to constantly reacquire it. So he becomes—”
    “A leech.” Sam blew out a breath. “Okay. So a goddess had to have started this.”
    Quinn didn’t say anything. She had no idea of the actual process involved and wasn’t sure she’d understand it if she did. Goddesses were vessels for energy, similar to batteries but with only short-term storage. Each goddess had a different capacity and manifestation, so she supposed some had the ability to transfer power to a vessel with the capacity to receive it.
    She hated the idea of any goddess she knew doing such a thing. They didn’t come into their power or even know what would feed it until they hit age twenty-one. Because their life expectancy was higher than a normal human’s, they weren’t fully mature, and fully connected to the world’s energy, until then. The whole process of determining the source and training to channel the energy was different for every person and meant a long learning curve. Who would go through all of that and then give some of it up? Who wouldn’t care about the damage they could do if they created a leech?
    The more immediate concern, she decided, was determining who was next so they could prevent it. Stop the leech, then find who’d created him.
    Sam seemed to be going down the same road she was. “Quinn, does the roster list details about the goddesses? Like power source, age, stuff like that?”
    She shook her head. “That’s kept in a database at headquarters in Boston, but general members don’t have access.”
    “You’re the board’s secretary, though, not a general member.”
    “Good point.” Quinn leaned over to access the computer. “I’ll see what I can get.”
    “Tanda’s your age, right, Quinn?” Nick drummed his fingers on the desk.
    “A year younger.” She entered her officer code and password to access the Society’s protected web pages. “Chloe’s older than us, by maybe six or seven years.” Midthirties to maybe fiftyish would be the ideal age span for leeching. Leeching a young goddess would be like eating celery to put on weight—more effort was expended than benefit gained.
    Quinn logged into the live forums and saw that Alana, the Society’s executive director, was online. She IMed her a request for access to the database. Alana responded immediately.
    ED: Why do you need it?
    QUINN C: We’re trying to track the leech.
    She watched the screen for a few minutes. Alana didn’t respond. She felt Nick and Sam looking at her and glanced up. “I’m working on it.”
    The computer chimed.
    ED: The board and security team are in charge of the investigation. Your assistance is not required.
    There was the sound of a door closing and the screen read, ED has gone offline, 11:22 p.m.
    “Shit.” Quinn stared at the screen, stunned and a little hurt at the abrupt cut-off.
    “Well?”
    She slapped the lid down and bounced back in her chair. “Nothing. She said the board and security team are investigating and they don’t need our assistance.” She busied herself crumpling up scrap paper, but Nick guessed what she was thinking anyway.
    “They heard about me going rogue and know you’re mine.”
    “Tell me again what that means?” Sam sounded exasperated.
    “We don’t know!” Quinn and Nick said together.
    Sam shook his head, looking disgusted. “Don’t you think we’d better figure it out?