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“I like my men less cobwebbed, I’m afraid.”

He snorted softly, but didn’t bother removing said webs as he parked his butt in the plush chair of his “bridge.” There were several light screens to the left that were showing images of the building, both outside and inside, and others to the right running everything from games to websites. He touched the nearest screen, and on one of the others a blue shimmer flared up around the entrance downstairs. The containment field was once again active.

“Marcus Handberry, as we know and love him today,” he said, touching another screen.

A picture of a pockmarked, thin-framed, dark-haired man came into view, and something within me shivered. The picture had been taken from a side angle, but he was looking at the camera and there was nothing resembling humanity in the muddy depths of his eyes. Even if Marcus Handberry was human, he’d left any semblance of it behind long ago.

“According to his driver’s license,” Stane continued, “he was born in Ireland and came here ten years ago. He holds dual citizenship, but travels on an Australian passport.”

“How can he have all that if he only popped into existence a year ago?” Tao asked.

I glanced at him. “It’s easy enough to do if you know the right people and have enough money.”

He gave me a long look. “And you know this because …?”

I smiled. “I have an aunt and uncle who were or are guardians.”

Stane glanced at me. “Then why are you the one investigating this creep and not them?”

“Oh, they are. I just refuse to sit back and twiddle my thumbs.”

“It would undoubtedly be safer.”

“Undoubtedly.” I flicked a hand toward the screen, and he took the hint.

“I did a search using his photo as a reference, but I can’t find anything so far. Either he’s had work done, or he really did pop up fully formed a year ago.” He glanced at us. “If you could get a fingerprint, that might help.”

“Unless he’s been re-fingerprinted as well.”

“That would be a costly procedure, would it not?” Tao asked. “And surely if he had that sort of money, he wouldn’t own a dump like the Phoenix.”

“Unless the Phoenix is a cover for something else.”

Stane smiled. “That was my thought as well, but I can’t find anything that suggests he’s involved in anything nefarious. Nor does the club seem to be anything more than a rowdy bar catering to less-than-savory types.”

If he wasn’t involved in anything nefarious, he wouldn’t have taken on the job of kidnapping and killing me. “Any idea what Handberry actually is?”

“According to his records, human, but I’ve walked past the man and whatever he is, it isn’t human.”

“But you couldn’t tell what else he might be?” The men who’d attacked me hadn’t smelled of any race, either—even though several of them had half changed. And I suppose it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Handberry had the same no-species scent, given that he was apparently the man in charge. But why would he put a human in charge of his nonhuman thugs? Unless that so-called human was something else, and I just hadn’t picked up on it.

“He smelled vaguely of cat,” Stane said, “but the scent of a cat shifter is usually far stronger and more acidic. If I hadn’t almost run into the man, I wouldn’t have even smelled it.”

“And why would you be running into him if you’re always on the bridge?”

He grinned. “Even I am forced to obey the needs of my body during the full-moon phase.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So why are you here rather than at a club?”

“Because the moon heat has been temporarily sated, and besides, my baby misses me if I’m away too long.”

He patted his bridge affectionately, and I snorted softly. “Have you found anything else?”

Stane shook his head. “But,” he said, rising to walk across to the neatly stacked shelving unit lining the rear wall of his main room, “if you’d like to plant this little electronic gadget, I’ll be able to hack into their security system and keep an eye on him for you.”

He came back with something that looked like a little black beetle. It even moved like one.

“What is it?” I asked, leaning closer but not actually touching it. Bugs, like spiders, weren’t really my favorite things to play with.

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