“He has a friend who wants to meet with you.” Wei Chen paused. “A DEA agent.”

Surprise jolted Vlad. His gaze automatically found Delphine.

She was watching him with a focused expression, like she could hear their conversation. She dipped her chin.

“When and where?” Vlad said stiffly.

Wei Chen gave him an address in Lower Manhattan. “One hour.”

She hung up.

“What is it?” Cortes asked guardedly.

“Wei Chen wants to meet.” Vlad put his phone away, his mind racing. “With us and a DEA agent.”

Cortes’s pupils flared. “She’s working with the DEA?”

Vlad frowned. “It sounds like it.”

Cortes’s expression turned troubled. “That’s not like her at all.”

Vlad had to agree. Wei Chen was a proud woman and not one to bow her head to any federal agency. Which meant something had happened that forced her hand into doing so.

“It must be the same agent Jared mentioned,” Delphine observed warily. “We should make a move if we want to get there in time for that meeting.”

Vlad turned to study Delroy. The bartender had slumped in his chair, relief etched across his face now that Delphine had stepped away from him.

“What do we do with him?” Cortes jerked his head at their prisoner.

“Leave him to my men.” Vlad’s tone hardened. “They’ll make sure he doesn’t skip town before the DEA can question him.”

Delroy’s eyes bulged. “Wait! No! You can’t?—!”

Vlad was already headed for the door, Tarang at his heels.

“Let’s go find out who this Santana Isaacs is.”

The address Wei Chen had given them was an upscale dim sum restaurant in Chinatown. Red paper lanterns cast a warm glow over the lacquered furniture and silk screens depicting dragons and phoenixes as Vlad entered the restaurant with Delphine and Cortes.

His scalp prickled.

The place was too quiet, even for a weekday afternoon.

“DEA cleared the place,” Delphine murmured as a flustered-looking hostess approached. “There are two agents in the apartment block across the road. Four in the black van outside. Three in the butcher’s next door. There are five agents andTriadbodyguards in the building with us.”

Vlad and Cortes stared.

Cortes arched an eyebrow. “You clocked all that while we were walking here from the car?”

Delphine shrugged. “It’s the way I would have set this meeting up.”

The hostess led them up the stairs to a private room.

Wei Chen sat at a round table near a window overlooking Mott Street. A man in his forties occupied the chair to her right. Though he wore an expensive suit, his bearing screamed federal agent.

“Vlad.” Wei Chen rose, something that looked a little like relief dancing across her face. She indicated the seat opposite her. “Please.” She scrutinized Cortes and Delphine. “Him I can understand tagging along. Who’s the woman?”

“My new bodyguard,” Vlad said curtly.