“The arcenciel is a more difficult question. They do not come from this time or this world.”

I remembered that Rick’s cousin Sarge Walker, a pilot who lived outside of Chauvin, Louisiana, south of Houma, had once talked about liminal lines and liminal thresholds. “This isn’t a question,” I said. “I’ve heard of sites and places on Earth where the fabric of reality is thin, where one reality can bleed into another. Places where the coin stack of universes meet and mesh and sometimes things can cross over from one reality to another.”

Gee DiMercy zoomed a razor-sharp look at me, one worthy of a raptor with a bunny in its sights. I put two and two together and added, slowly, “Like maybe . . . the Anzû. And the arcenciel. It bit you like it did Leo, but didn’t hurt you near as much. And then it . . . licked you.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Tasted your blood with its tongue. Like a dessert, a petit four,” I accused.

Gee did a little pifft of sound. “I am delectable, yes; this is true. Liminal thresholds are theoretical, the type of conjecture toyed with when physicists have drinking parties and alcohol loosens their tongues.”

I sat up and dropped my hands into my lap, palming a steel blade, a small three-inch throwing knife, though I held the blade back, against my inner arm, for close-in work, not throwing work. Just in case I really did understand the truth and he decided to kill me for it. “I was told that the Earth has three liminal lines. They supposedly curve across the Earth. One starts in southwest Mexico, curves across the Gulf of Mexico to Chauvin, Louisiana, then follows the Appalachians east and north in a curve like the trade winds sometimes make, but more stable, static, bigger, and smoother. Then it curves across the ocean.”

Gee stared at me with an expression I had no way of deciphering, except that he didn’t look like he wanted to rip my insides out and eat the chunks anymore. Or not as much. Still Gee didn’t respond, but I could see things happening behind his eyes.

“The arcenciel and the Anzû both came through the liminal thresholds, didn’t they?” I said. “That’s why there’s no real paleontological or archaeological evidence of either. That’s why there are so few of you. That’s why—”

“Stop. I may not bandy such information about.”

“We have a deal.”

“And I will contemplate how I might fulfill that deal without being forsworn to others no longer here.”

I stood. “Okay. Meanwhile, I have a . . . a friend, of sorts. She works for PsyLED, and her name is Soul. When there’s danger, she moves with a long, sinuous shape of light.” I leaned in. “Would she think you tasty too?”

Gee’s eyes went wide and he said, “I would speak to her.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ll pass along the request. Right now, she’s sleeping in my guest bedroom.” Gee’s eyes went wider and something like avarice crossed his face, too fast for me to interpret. “I’ll be doing some research on liminal lines and thresholds.” I stood, walking out of the library, leaving the birdseed on the table, and keeping my body bladed and my eyes on Gee DiMercy’s until the door closed between us. I broke out in a sweat, knowing he could have run me through with sword, beak, or talons before I had a chance to block. I was lucky he’d not made up his mind to kill me for my rudeness. I was betting that old beings who had been worshiped as “gods” were not totally hip to modern-day snark. I put the small blade away when I reached a place where other people were, feeling safe only when there were lots of witnesses around.

I paused in a hallway and thought about the “dark things” that Gee had said were hidden here at HQ, and the things that no one was saying. I pulled my clunky cell and dialed the Kid. “Yellowrock Secur—”

“You know that glitch we were talking about recently?” I interrupted. “The one that sent us all up and down?”

“Someone’s listening?” Alex caught on fast. “The, uh”—he paused, searching for a word that would communicate without giving anything away to any sharp-eared vamps nearby—“winches, gotcha. What can I do for you?”

“Send me there. Stop at the room with all the paintings and stuff, and then send me as far as you can.”

“Oh.” I could tell Alex was thinking that wasn’t such a good idea but he finally said, “Yeah. If you’re sure.”

“I’m in the mood to travel.”

“I can’t get past the security programs to override the system, without an insider’s handprint. At least not yet. I’m working on it, though.”

“I’ll find someone willing.”

“It’s your neck. You want me to stay on?”

He meant stay in contact, the HQ internal communication lines open. “Yeah.” I fumbled in the cover of the cell, pulled out the earpiece he had put there one rainy afternoon when he was playing Q to Eli’s and my James and Jane Bond. I synced the cell to the radio, putting the cell back into a pocket. I had never used the upmarket syncing service but it was handy. “You there?”

“Loud and clear,” Alex answered. And no one at HQ could overhear. Alex was big on back doors. He was a lot like Reach that way.

I walked into the public parts of fanghead HQ, snagging a vamp on my way. It was Mario Esposito, a dark-skinned Italian guy who thought he was way prettier and way more suave than he really was. In his low-heeled loafers, Mario was three inches shorter than me in my boots, and while that wasn’t uncommon, his interest in my chest was unusual. The twenty pounds I’d put on not so long ago had given me some kind of cleavage, and Mario looked like he wanted to get up close and personal with mine. I hooked my arm through his and led the way to the elevator, as Mario shot me his best lines.

“I knew we would one day be together, mio amore. I knew it the first time I gazed at your body, strong and sensual and . . .”

I pushed into the elevator and nuzzled Mario’s ear. “Mario, honey pie, would you swipe your palm and take me to heaven?”

Alex made a quiet gagging noise, one that faded into the background noises, even to a vamp’s sharp hearing. Mario laid his hand over the reader, and hit the button for the third floor.

“Now, please,” I said. “Make it so, Number Two.”

The elevator doors closed. Mario’s mouth descended to my neck. The vamp didn’t notice my disinterest while he pressed his fangs against my skin in invitation, but he did get the downward motion of the elevator. Down and down and down. He pulled his cold lips from my throat and looked up to my face. “We are going down.”