Fletcher was no fool. Fortunately, neither was I.

Luring out a tail was tricky business, but in the end it was the same two incentives there always were: the carrot or the stick, the gold or the fire. Either Fletcher needed to believe that there was a prize waiting for her at the end of the line, a bonus that outweighed stalking us from the dark alleys; or she needed to fear the danger of waiting there, let fear drive her into the snare.

I knew what prizes I could offer Fletcher. She and Jabberwock wanted Robin. Now that the days had dragged on, I wasn’t sure whether she or her superiors still wanted Robin dead, or whether they would first ply her for information and memories like Drakon planned to do. But I didn’t dare risk it. I wouldn’t dangle Robin as bait for a crazed, vindictive nightmare still smarting that she hadn’t cut Robin’s throat when she had the chance, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t even bring myself to suggest it with Robin walking next to me, eyes darting around the city with the gaze of someone still unfamiliar with it. She was still just a kid.

We’d left the morgue a dozen minutes ago. Once or twice, I’d caught a glimpse, in mirrored signs and shimmering damp windows, of Fletcher ducking out of sight behind us; and more damningly, the hospital tang of cleaning supply still hanging in the air. Even consigned to stealth, she was still too arrogant to diminish her nightmare, to swallow her pride and relax her power. Good.

I gripped Robin’s shoulder. “You’re going to follow me and do exactly as I say,” I said. “We need Fletcher to believe we’re trying to escape her, that we’re this close to getting away from her if she doesn’t break and run. But we’re not going to lose her. We’re going to stay just slow enough, just incautious enough, that she’ll stay latched on to us like a tick. And if we do it right-” I grinned- “she’ll think it’s cause of how clever she is.”

Robin frowned. She moved her hand around like she was drawing a diagram. “How do we do that?”

“Very carefully. Don’t worry,” I said, “cause it’s just like dancing. Leading your partner along the floor—except we don’t ever want her to know she’s being led.”

“That’s—not how it works. Dancing is all about synchronization. Moving the same as people. Everyone knows what they have to do, and you practice it a lot so that it’s like you’re all the same person.” She looked like she was about to say more, then sighed. “I don’t want to be the same as Fletcher. I don’t want to—draw her here because we’re thinking the same way.”

“You still want to do it, don’t you?”

“Yeah. We have to. And the more we try to run away from it the more we’re gonna get hurt.”

I patted her shoulder in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. I didn’t think I’d ever had cause to use the gesture before. “That’s the spirit. And you can leave all the nightmarish thinking to me, if it helps.”

“I still don’t like doctors.”

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“No one does. Now I really do need you to follow me…”

I’d been watching the street signs pass us by, waiting until I reached a likely point. I pivoted on one heel, spinning Robin around with me like the moon’s orbit, and set off towards the yellow-lit door at the end of the street. It was nowhere else but the bar I was seeking, Eddie McGrady lining up the glasses on the counter like always. He barely gave me a glance as I entered, but was already reaching for the red-tinged bottle on the shelf. “Bit earlier than usual,” he said. “Rough day? Or is it a day that only promises to get rougher?”

The rattle of coins on the counter stopped him. I waved him away from the bottle. “Nothing this time. Need to dip out through the backroom—the balcony, I think. Promise I won’t take a look at your secret recipes I know you’ve got pinned up on the walls.”

“That kind of day.”

“Someone clinically nasty’s going to ask you where we’ve gone. Say you’ve never seen us—it’s what she’ll expect.” I started for the heavy door that led to the kitchens and supply closets before I stopped and jabbed a finger at him. “And tell Tannous I say hi.”

No one was working in the back. They never served food unless a customer specifically requested it, and it was never worth the price for rat-bitten meat and greasy lettuce that slid uncomfortably around the plate. I stopped to grab an empty jar from a lower drawer that was about the right shape and size—if you squinted, if you were looking from half a street back—for a vial of Jabberwock. No harm in pressing the illusion a little further, in pressing Fletcher a little farther. Then we were out onto the balcony, down the grated stairs that served as a fire escape, and back out onto the street.

I slowed my pace deliberately and chanced a look back over my shoulder. Nothing and no one on the balcony, so I forced my steps to come even slower, until it was like we were walking through molasses. Then the door was flung open, Fletcher darting out and spotting us almost instantly. “Faster again,” I hissed to Robin. “Like we never stopped.”

“Where are we going?” she asked. She was almost running to match her stride with mine.

“Drakon.”

“What? Why?”

“Not really. But we need Fletcher to think that. Left here.” It was a tight fit through the alley even for Robin, but with some effort we managed to shift the crates enough that we could squeeze through. I kicked one over behind me to slow Fletcher—the least I could do for her, really. “She can’t let you fall into his hands and she doesn’t have the time to bring in backup.”

We hurried down a set of steps, my shoes skidding on a set of discarded paper wrappers that had been left on the bottom. I stumbled and spat out a curse at whoever’d left them there—before remembering Robin was standing next to me. “Only I’m allowed to say that,” I warned her.

“I…don’t think I even know what you meant.”

“Good.”

It wasn’t far, now. It was a tall brick building with two blocky pillars on either side, like fingers grasping for the sky. The fence had collapsed years ago, iron bars bent and twisted and scattered across the ground where they hadn’t been ripped out and taken for better uses. Where there’d once been a lock on the door was instead a curve of snapped brass, which I yanked out and tossed across the road. “They haven’t used this office for years—it was a big distributor when they were competing against Luna. Just the place Drakon might choose for a covert exchange.”

Robin pushed the door open. It stuck and inched forwards through a layer of dust half an inch thick. “What if they’re here anyway?”

“Well, we’ll know that damn well soon enough, won’t we?” I unholstered Bella, but there was no sound from inside. Just dark empty shelves—whoever had cleaned this place out had been thorough, leaving with every container larger than a thimble. “Looks like we got the place to ourselves.”

“So now we wait?”

I motioned for one hand for her to stand back. “We won’t be waiting very long. And then—we’re going to catch ourselves a nightmare.”