She sucked on her torn lip. “We can take it. Now quit checking me out
and tell me why you’re lurking in the parking lot.”
I uncrossed my arms and tried to focus on the information burning in the
back of my mind instead of the alluring line of her mouth and the fire she
stoked in my chest. “We’ve identified the faceless man, the blood sorcerer
who was hunting you, thanks to your sketches. You drew a tattoo of a
triangle with the number 37 on his neck. It’s an old prison tattoo. His name is
Ulan Kahanov, and he’s a murderer and deviant sorcerer.”
Her breath caught as her pupils dilated. “Do you know where he is?”
“No. But his most recent residence was the maximum-security prison on
Bentham Island, just offshore of Magic Side. He escaped a few months ago
when the prison was breached. We would have identified him earlier, but the
Order archmages were keeping the missing prisoner a secret to save face. The
place is like Alcatraz—it’s supposed to be impregnable.”
“Then how did he break out?”
“It was attacked by a genie. Others escaped too, but Kahanov is—as far
as the Order is willing to admit—the only one who wasn’t caught. We’ve had
one of the Order’s best hunters tracking him for the last few days, but he’s an
elusive bastard.”
“Wait a minute, how long have you known? Why am I only finding out
now?”
“Because you didn’t need to know the details.” My irritation flared, but I
kept my emotions locked down.
She scoffed. “If I matter so little, then why are you bothering to tell me?”
I was still uncertain how much to tell her. Certainly not the truth.
“Things have changed,” I said. “You’re in a lot of danger, Savannah.
Kahanov is on the move, and I think he’s going to make another play for you.
I want you to come back to Dockside. I’ll put you up in a safehouse until we
bring him down.”
She crossed her arms. “Oh, hell, no. Not on your life. I’m not going back