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“We need everything on that facility,” I said. “Who runs it. Who funds it. Who’s been admitted in the last year.” I met Ezra’s gaze. “And I need to know if Jude’s father has ever visited.”

“We might need a hacker for all that,” Ezra said in a low voice. “This goes all the way to the top.”

Of course it did.

My gaze found Phelps again, and I wondered just how much he knew. He’d wanted Jude when word got out about his ability to raise the dead. That tidbit he hadn’t known. Maybe they’d assumed his ability was bare minimum, like Merrill’s?

I let my senses drift down the bond to Jude. Found him... somewhat calm.

Strange.

But that couldn’t be a bad thing, right? He’d be panicked if he hadn’t found Ivan. Of that I was certain.

I sucked in a deep breath and focused on the scene. Trusting that Jude would come back to me with good news.

Even if all I had to give him was more pain.

24

JUDE

I perched in my seat, offering a cookie crumb to a mote. It drifted down, landed near the plate, and sat there unmoving, as if too tired to continue. I tried not to be distracted by it as Beau poured tea and Ivan scarfed down pastries. Nox dug his claws into my shoulder, the burn a welcome reminder that I actually had physical form here.

Beau settled onto a cushion at the table with the ease of someone who had all the time in the world, then selected a pastry. His focus darted from Ivan to me and back, while his raccoon friend devoured pastries until Beau threw him an annoyed look and pushed the plate out of reach.

Beau’s gaze slid to Ivan, something almost fond flickering there. “I see what you mean about your brother. Chaos in all forms.” A pause. “Gray at the edges with storms illuminating the vibrance at the core. Fascinating.”

“Rude,” I muttered, shooting Ivan a glare. “I think.” What exactly had he been telling this guy?

“Hmm.” Beau reached for his tea, and the raccoon’s paw darted toward the pastry plate again. Without looking, Beau smacked it away with a quick, precise tap. “Enough. You’ll make yourself sick.”

The raccoon chittered in protest but retreated, eyeing the pastries with the mournful resignation of a creature who knew the battle was lost but the war would continue. That Nox hadn’t swept in to devour all the treats himself made me wonder if they were poison, but he clung to me, as if protective and cautious at the same time. Very worrying. Maybe they were like Gwen’s pastries? The kind that gave energy? Or bound us all to this impossible world between worlds.

“Explain,” I commanded Ivan.

“He’s my mentor. He’s going to teach me to better handle my power. That’s what a mentor is, right? Like you have with the Reaper guy?”

“Nat,” I corrected him, thinking Nat was more than just his title. “I mean—” I waved at the room. “Why here? Why now? Why him?”

“Because I need a teacher,” Ivan said, as if I was dense. I wondered if I was rubbing off on him or if our snark was inherited.

I waved at the strange man. “Him?”

Beau settled deeper into his cushion with the unhurried patience of someone who answered to no clock. He gestured at Ivan with his teacup. “Eat. You’re skin and bones.”

“I eat,” Ivan protested, already reaching for another pastry. He paused, looking at me. “Can Jude eat? He’s physical here, right?”

“Yes, and yes.” Beau’s answers came without elaboration, as if the rules of this place were so obvious, they shouldn’t need stating. “Plenty of treats.”

I wasn’t sure I trusted the treats. Or the tea. Or the raccoon. Or any of this.

But Ivan was eating. Ivan was safe. For now, that would have to be enough.

“You should know I work for the Marshal,” I offered, hoping the name would give him hesitation in hurting me or my brother. “He unravels people who annoy him.”

Beau raised a brow at me over the top of his teacup. “And yet you remain.”

Ouch.