Bryson slid his eyes away from me toward Nathaniel, but he was too late.

Nathaniel moved faster than any human could. All I saw was a blur out of the corner of my eye, and then Bryson was on the ground and Nathaniel stood above him, holding the gun.

I dropped my hands. Beezle glared down at Bryson from my shoulder like an angry parrot.

“Where’s J.B. and Jude and Samiel?” I asked.

“I will tell you nothing,” Bryson said, his eyes snapping with anger.

I looked at Nathaniel. Nathaniel kicked Bryson so hard that I heard one of his ribs break.

Bryson coughed, but did not cry out. “I will tell you nothing,” he repeated.

“I didn’t want you for an enemy,” I said. “You could have helped us. We saved fourteen missing Agents.”

“And killed two,” Bryson said. “You are an Agent of death, not a bringer of it.”

“How do you know about that?” I asked. If Bryson knew, then the deaths of those Agents had to have been written somewhere, and that meant that the Agency had known before they’d sent Sokolov to threaten me that I would go to Azazel’s mansion. And that also meant that they knew I would find the Agents, and they did nothing to help me.

“I know more than you think. I’m not just a tool for Sokolov, as you seem to believe.”

“Then stop acting like one,” I said. “Did it really sit well with you that the Agency was willing to let their own people die just because they have some grudge against me?”

“The Agency has their reasons,” Bryson said.

“And I have mine,” I said. “Tell me where the others are. Don’t make me hurt you.”

“Are you a monster, then, like the things you claim to despise? Will you torture me for your own ends?”

“I am not a monster,” I said, and I don’t know who I was trying to convince—him or me. “But I won’t let you or the Agency or anyone else run over me anymore. I want to know where Jude and J.B. and Samiel are, and believe me, I will break you to get to them.”

“That line just keeps getting grayer and grayer, doesn’t it?” Beezle murmured, for my ears only.

“You will not break me,” Bryson said.

“She may not be able to, but I can,” Nathaniel said, and then he gave me a very serious glance. “Look away.”

I did. I was sure I wouldn’t want to see.

Bryson didn’t scream, but he made the most piteous noise I’d ever heard.

I was grateful for the rising darkness, grateful that it was unlikely that anyone could see what we were doing in my backyard. Of course, maybe the neighbors didn’t even bother to call the police anymore. They’d seen me carrying bodies into the basement and I hadn’t been arrested, so it was possible they’d given up and learned to keep their curtains shut.

“Where have you taken Madeline’s companions?” Nathaniel asked.

He sounded cruel. He sounded like a man without mercy or conscience. I’d never heard him like that before, not even when he was trying to kill me. This was the right-hand man of Azazel, the hammer that Azazel had used on his enemies.

I tried hard to remember that I had saved his life for a reason, and that he was doing what he was doing for me.

Bryson whimpered, but he didn’t answer Nathaniel.

“This is really okay with you?” Beezle asked quietly.

“I can’t leave J.B. and Samiel and Jude to the Agency,” I said. “I can’t.”

“You’re losing yourself,” Beezle said.

“No,” I replied. “I’m finding myself.”

“I hope you like the person you find,” Beezle said.

Nathaniel did something else, and this time Bryson did scream.

“Where are Madeline’s companions?” Nathaniel asked again.

“The Agency, the Agency!” Bryson yelled.

“Where in the Agency?” I asked, turning around.

Bryson’s eyes were bleeding. I did not want to know how Nathaniel had done that. The super-soldier looked pale and broken, all his defiance gone. I was sorry for that. I was so sorry that it had come to this.

“In the rooms where they kept the crazy people,” Bryson said, and he started to cry.

“In the basement, near the Hall of Records,” I said to Nathaniel. “Let’s go.”

I pushed out my wings, took off toward downtown. Beezle climbed back inside my coat for warmth. Nathaniel flew at my side, blessedly silent. I didn’t know what I might say to him right now. How do you thank someone for torturing a strong man until he’s broken?

“Better cloak yourself,” I said to Nathaniel. “I want to go in the front door, and you’ll scare the locals if you land on the sidewalk with those wings out.”

He nodded, and a short time later we stood on the sidewalk in front of the Agency doors. Even though I was under the veil, other Agents could see me, and they gave me a wide berth as they exited the building.

Beezle poked his head out of my coat. “How are you going to play this?”

“I’m just going to go in there like I belong. Which I do,” I said, and then to Nathaniel, “Try to stun anyone who gets in our way. I’ve had enough of bodies today.”

We pushed open the doors of the Agency and walked inside.

19

AS SOON AS WE ENTERED, NATHANIEL DROPPED HIS veil and I pushed my wings back in. The security guards, who looked like they were half-asleep as Agents went through the checkpoints on their way out of the building, stood up abruptly.