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I narrowed my gaze, suspicious. “He didn’t?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here.”

Which changed everything. Assuming Rick was telling the truth, but he had no reason not to. If he was seeing me behind Arturo’s back, he must have a good reason.

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m trying to find some information. I wondered if you could help me.” He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, smoothed it out, and handed it to me. “What do you make of this?”

It was a flyer printed on goldenrod-colored paper. The production value was low. It might even have been typewritten, then photocopied at a supermarket. It read,

Do you need help? Have you been cursed? Vampires, lycanthropes, there is hope for you! There is a cure! The Reverend Elijah Smith and his Church of the Pure Faith want to save you. Pure Faith Will Set You Free.

The bottom of the flyer listed a date a few weeks old. The site was an old ranch thirty miles north of town, near Brighton.

Reading it over again, my brow wrinkled. It sounded laughable. I conjured an image of a stereotypical southern preacher laying hands on, oh, someone like Carl. Banishing the demons, amen and hallelujah. Carl would bite his head off—for real.

“A cure? Through faith healing? Is this a joke?”

“No, unfortunately. One of Arturo’s followers left to join them. We haven’t seen her since. Personally, I smell a rat and I’m worried.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Arturo must be pissed off.”

“Yes. But it’s been next to impossible to learn anything about this Smith and his church. Arturo’s too proud to ask for help. I’m not. You have contacts. I wondered if you’d heard anything.”

“No.” I flipped the page over, as if it would reveal more secrets, but the back was blank. “A cure, huh? Does it work?”

Every hint of a cure I’d ever tracked down had turned out to be myth. Smoke and folklore. I could be forgiven for showing skepticism.

“I don’t know,” he said simply.

“I’ve never heard of a cure actually working.”

“Neither have I.”

“Arturo’s follower thought it was for real. And she never came back. So—it worked?”

“Some might be attracted by such a possibility. Enticing bait, if someone wanted to lure people like us.”

“Lure why?”

He shrugged. “To trap them, kill them. Enslave them. Such things have happened before.”

The possibilities he suggested were downright ominous. They incited a nebulous fear of purposes I couldn’t imagine. Witch hunts, pogroms. Reality TV.

He was only trying to scare me so I’d get righteously indignant enough to do something about this. It worked.

“I’ll see what I can find out.” Grist for the mill. I wondered if Smith would come on the show for an interview.

“Thank you.”

“Thanks for the tip.” I pursed my lips, suppressing a grin. “It’s a good thing the humble subordinates keep running around their leaders’ backs, or nothing would get done around here.”

Rick gazed innocently at the ceiling. “Well, I wouldn’t say anything like that to Arturo’s face. Or Carl’s.”

Things always came back to them, didn’t they? The Master, the alpha. We were hardwired to be followers. I supposed it kept our communities from degenerating into chaos.

More somber, I said, “Do you think Arturo’s going to do anything about the show?”


Tags: Carrie Vaughn Kitty Norville Fantasy