Page 112 of Taken

His mouth turned down. “But then, there are the rumors that it’s me, Gabriel and Rafe who are going after the syndicate’s kapitáns.” He fingered his chin. “I wish I knew where these rumors are coming from. Your alpha, did she say anything about Rafe?”

“No,” I said, too quickly. It was the truth, though. Crow hadn’t said anything new about Rafe, Twilight had.

His gaze sharpened.

The promise I’d made to Twilight grated at me. But it was her call, not mine.

“Your turn,” I said before he could push me on it. “Any other intel you want to share?”

“That’s it—that rumor, and the ones I already told you about. What about you?”

I heaved a breath. “My alpha’s in the city.”

“I take it that’s not good.”

“No, it’s not. She didn’t tell me straight out, either. I figured it out from something she said. So that’s…odd, that she’s hiding it from me. We have to be careful. You have to be careful. There could be other slayers in the city, too—I don’t know. She did pass along a useful piece of intel—your father’s not in the city tonight and he may not be back for a couple of days.”

I deliberately chose not to tell him his father was with Gabriel. There was nothing Zaq could do about it anyway, and I honestly didn’t care if Gabriel lived or died.

Zaq was my priority.

“Hell.” He rubbed his forehead. “So we lose another night. Your alpha didn’t tell you where my dad was going?”

“No. I don’t think she knew.”

“All right.” He glanced at the sky. “It’s getting dark. We should get back.”

“She’s a dhampir,” I blurted. “My alpha, that is. Most of us are.”

“I know; dhampirs make the best slayers. And yeah, I get it—we have to stay alert no matter what. We go out at night, we have to worry about my father’s people. And during the day, it’s the dhampirs. We’ll just have to be careful.”

We headed out of the park.

“I need to feed,” Zaq said. “I’m still feeling the aftereffects of the silver poisoning. I’m going to—” He named a block in Hunters Point known for its prostitutes. They were primarily sex workers, but for the right price, some would let you drink their blood. “Wanna come?”

“I told you, I don’t drink it fresh.”

He moved a shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

“You have enough cash?”

“Yeah.”

“Take this anyway.” I slipped him a handful of twenties.

“Thanks.” He slanted me a curious look and tucked the bills into the pocket of his jeans.

I answered his unspoken question. “You shouldn’t have to ask every time you need money.”

“Well, again—thanks. And don’t worry. I’m good for it.”

“Hey, it’s not my money.”

“So SI is picking up my tab?” His mouth twisted in a sardonic grin. “Well, isn’t that ironic?”

26

ZAQ

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