“Okay, so we can’t solve the Puck problem right now,” I said.

“What problem can we solve now?” Beezle asked. “We still don’t know where Azazel is or what he’s up to. You’ve really ticked off Titania, and the solution for that issue doesn’t seem to be in sight. You forgot your pickup this morning and lost the soul from yesterday. I think the only thing you can do right now is go into work and fill out forms that express your incompetence as an Agent.”

“Why is it that when you speak a feeling of hopelessness descends upon me?” I asked. “Has Chloe been around here lately?”

Samiel shook his head. I haven’t seen her since she left yesterday with the binder.

“Hopefully she’s working on deciphering it,” I said. “I’ll call J.B. and see if he knows anything.”

I dialed J.B. and waited while the phone rang. Everyone watched me.

“Don’t the rest of you have something to do?” I asked.

“No,” Beezle said. “Your life is our life.”

“Maddy,” J.B. said as he picked up the phone. He sounded worried. “I was just going to call you.”

“Why?” I said, a feeling of dread coming over me. “What’s after me now?”

“It’s not that,” J.B. said. “Something’s happened. I need you to meet me downtown.”

“Where?” I asked.

“One fifty South Wacker,” he said. “There’s a plaza between two big office buildings there. You’ll have to leave Jude at home. You need to come under a cloak so no one sees you.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I said.

Jude was already shaking his head. He’d heard every word of the conversation. Wolf hearing is incredible.

“You’re not going alone,” he said.

“I don’t have to,” I replied. “Samiel can go with me.”

“Or I can,” Nathaniel said.

“Samiel can go with me,” I repeated. I didn’t want to be alone with Nathaniel right now. I wanted to be with someone I was sure I could trust. I was still feeling a little unsteady after my encounter with Puck, and I hadn’t even had time to contemplate the implications of my dream of Gabriel. “He can fly and he knows how to cloak himself. The rest of you stay here.”

“And do what?” Jude said. “Twiddle our thumbs?”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure something will show up to attack me sooner or later, and you can destroy it if I’m away.”

“I don’t want to destroy things,” Jude growled. “I’m here to keep you safe.”

“And you do,” I said. “I feel much safer knowing that you are here.”

I didn’t say that the reason I felt safer was because Nathaniel was hanging around the house and I knew Jude would take care of him if necessary, but I didn’t have to. Everyone seemed to know this without my saying it aloud.

Nathaniel’s face hardened. “Since I do not seem to be needed or wanted, I will return to my room and await your further instructions.”

“You do that,” Beezle said.

Nathaniel went out of my room and into the kitchen. He slammed the back door so hard that I heard it bounce off the frame.

“And that’s another problem you can’t solve,” Beezle said.

“Don’t remind me,” I said. “You stay here, too.”

“Aww,” Beezle whined. “But I want to see what J.B.’s being all secretive about.”

“You’ll find out when I get home,” I said. “My life is your life, remember?”

“But it’s so much more fun when I can actually be there instead of experiencing things vicariously,” Beezle said.

“Look at it this way. If you stay, you can finish off the potato chips before Samiel comes home and gets a crack at them.”

“Good point,” Beezle said.

Fifteen minutes later Samiel and I were on our way downtown under a veil. The few stars that were visible through the ambient light of the city shone in the dark sky. Cars moved below us as people headed home after work along Lake Shore Drive.

We cut across the Loop, following the curve from East Wacker to South Wacker Drive, which was presently a big pit instead of a working road. It seemed like it had been under construction forever and there was no sign of completion in sight. There were detour signs everywhere and snarled traffic as drivers, cabs and cyclists tried to negotiate the limited options left available to them.

The address that J.B. had given us was on the east side of the Chicago River. As we approached I saw that Adams had been closed off to traffic by several police cars, their lights flashing. There were a lot of ambulances, and a large crowd of curiosity seekers strained to see over the yellow crime scene tape that had been run across the entrance to the plaza.

Samiel and I lowered carefully to the ground inside the tape and looked around for J.B. We didn’t have to look far. He was standing in the center of the plaza, surrounded by bodies.

They were everywhere—men and women, mostly wearing the business suits that marked them as white-collar workers. Their limbs were broken; their heads were twisted the wrong way. And every single one of them had their neck torn open. There was an unbelievable amount of blood.

Briefcases and laptop bags had broken open and papers were strewn across the plaza, blowing in the wind. Uniformed officers and EMTs stood in little clumps, waiting for the crime scene techs to finish their work. It seemed like they would be waiting a long time.