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as in the rougher neighborhoods of Las Vegas where he’d grown up. In his old neighborhood, prostitutes openly walked the streets and meth labs occupied every other house.
    The streets of Shiftertown were completely different. Diego drove through an open chain-link gate to find small, well-kept houses and trimmed yards lining every street.
    These houses had been built by the government twenty years ago, a housing project that had been turned into a Shiftertown once word came down that Shifters would be located here. The houses were crap, like any lowest-bid project houses, but they were painted, clean, and well repaired.
    The yards were neat, either with tiny patches of grass or xeriscaped to conserve water. Water was a prized commodity in the Las Vegas valley. When strict conservation had to be enforced, Shifters were the first ones required to ration.
    Eric Warden’s house looked no different from others on the block. Diego had thought that, as Shiftertown leader, Eric would have commandeered one of the biggest ones. Would at least insist on having the most windows, or more plants in his yard, or something .
    But the house—a one-story, long, plain building—looked the same as the houses to either side of it. A small front porch ran the length of the house, with thick posts holding the porch roof in place. The porch had been added on, Diego saw, and he noticed that many houses on the street had similar additions. Shifters must be handy with lumber.
    Diego opened the screen door before knocking on the front door, which was jerked open almost immediately by Eric Warden himself.
    Tall, green-eyed, brown hair buzzed short, Eric wore a muscle shirt that revealed a scrolled black tatt that cupped his shoulder and trailed down his arm. His Collar, a thick silver and black band, hugged his throat. He regarded Diego with an unwelcoming expression.
    “I’m here to see Cassidy,” Diego said.
    Eric’s glittering eyes were hard to meet, but Diego didn’t let himself look away. Diego had faced deadly criminals—hard, hard men with no remorse, who would shoot a handful of people for the hell of it and go home for a good night’s sleep. But, somehow, Diego thought, even those men would back down from Eric Warden’s stare.
    Diego pulled out his ID and held it up in front of Eric’s face. “Lieutenant Escobar, LVPD. I warned Cassidy that I’d be checking up on her.” Diego kept his voice calm but spoke in a way that told Eric he wasn’t leaving until he saw her.
    Eric’s eyes flicked to Shifter white, his pupils becoming the long slits of a cat’s. That looked weird in his human face, but Diego made himself not react.
    “Cassidy told me what happened,” Eric said. “I know you went easy on her.” His eyes flicked back to human again, and he opened the door wider. “For that, you are welcome in my house.”
    Technically, Eric had no choice but to let him in. Diego was human and police, and no search warrants were needed for Shifters. Diego had the feeling, though, that if Eric hadn’t wanted him in the house, Diego wouldn’t be entering the house. This was a man who knew exactly how much he could do and how to maintain control while pretending to have none.
    Diego gave Eric a little nod, meeting his eyes squarely, and stepped inside.
    The interior of the house matched the exterior—neat, well kept, not luxurious. A sofa with faded upholstery looked comfortable, and tables held dog-eared paperbacks, videotapes, and inexpensive trinkets that were kept with care. Shifters weren’t allowed the technology of TiVo, HD, DVDs, cable, streaming, high-speed Internet, Wi-Fi, or anything else that smacked of the latest technology. Videotape was allowed, but Shifters weren’t going to be reading e-books anytime soon.
    A second man came in from the kitchen in the back. His hair was the same color as Eric’s but a bit shaggy, and his eyes were as jade green. He looked to be the same age as Eric, but Diego knew from the