As Kyle's car slowed and pulled into the pool of light at the curb of the Truman Tower, Hanna Uljaken suddenly appeared from the deep shadows near the entrance and rushed out to meet him. He was pleased to note the increased presence of Knight Errant checking his ID on the brightly lit ramp leading from street level, and equally glad to see the two troopers near the doors shift to better protect Hanna as she came toward him. The Ford's gull-wing door popped open and he stepped out quickly, moving around the front of the car to meet her.

"I contacted Mr. Truman as soon as Seeks-the-Moon showed up," she told him as they walked toward the building entrance. "He and Mrs. Truman were entertaining on their yacht but they're en route by helicopter. They should be here any minute."

"And Melissa?" Kyle asked as they passed through lobby doors flanked inside by three more guards.

She grimaced. "That's a problem."

Kyle stopped walking. "Why?"

“She ducked her guards a few hours ago."

"Son of a bitch!" he said, shaking his head in anger. "Is Facile upstairs?"

"He wasn't but I've notified him."

Kyle turned toward the nearest Knight Errant guard in his finely tailored high-impact body armor, full tactical communications headset, and not-so-casually slung combat rifle.

Kyle pointed at him. "Let Facile know we need him upstairs." The guard seemed startled by the order, but he reached for his commlink, surprising Kyle with his quick compliance.

Kyle and Hanna continued on toward the elevator banks. "You said earlier that Melissa had provided a ritual link?"

She nodded. "Yes, it's in cold storage."

"Under the family's control?"

She nodded. "Locked in security in the basement."

"We'll need it." As they reached the elevator, the guard stepped aside smartly. Kyle noted that it was the same woman he'd seen posted here earlier, but now she was garbed for war.

"Command," Hanna said as the doors closed behind them. "Penthouse. Express." The elevator quickly accelerated to what Kyle guessed was probably its maximum speed. "Command," she said again. "Communication line to security."

A moment later, a clear male voice spoke through the elevator's speakers. "Security Control here, Ms. Uljaken."

She looked up to where Kyle guessed the hidden microsurveillance camera was. "On my authority, I need Melissa Truman's ritual biosample material brought up from cold storage immediately."

"All of it?" the voice asked as the elevator slowed.

Hanna glanced at Kyle, who shook his head. "No," she said, "only one sample."

"It's on the way. Security out."

The elevator doors opened, and the two stepped into the long corridor that led to the Truman apartment. No guards were present, but Kyle wished there were.

"Is it that serious?" Hanna asked as they approached me mahogany doors.

"Let's put it this way," Kyle said, "if I'm right, this Linda Hayward isn't from anywhere on this earth."

"Excuse me?" Daniel Truman's face had gone white. Next to him, still in her evening clothes, his wife grabbed his arm and gasped.

"I'm sorry, but it's a definite possibility," Kyle told them. "I saw two women wearing vests showing the words 'Desolation Angels', and both were spirits of some kind."

"You're sure they weren't just powerful mages?" asked Facile, who was also wearing slightly bulky evening wear. Kyle had been pleased to see him exit the helicopter with the Trumans, though he suspected the senior Truman was beginning to chafe under the increased security presence. "You could have misread their aura-"

"Lieutenant," said Seeks-the-Moon from where he was studying the tiny points of color on the huge wall painting. "Trust" me when I say that I know the difference between a powerful spirit birthed in the blazing chaos of the metaplanes and the aura of Awakened meat." He turned slightly toward Kyle. "No offense, of course."

Kyle ignored him. "No, we're sure," he told Facile. "An unmasked spirit's aura is distinct. And there's also the fact that both vanished through a back wall in the ladies room."

"Could they have slipped out invisibly somewhere else?" asked Facile.

"Not likely."

"But it's possible?"

Kyle turned toward Truman. He was angry. "Mr. Truman, these are the facts as I understand them. Your son is missing. We've proven that he's either protected or blocked by a powerful ward. We have a connection between him and a woman named Linda Hayward, who appears to be part of a gang, possibly all-female, called the Desolation Angels. We have seen that at least two members of the Desolation Angels are spirits of some kind. That's enough to have me worried."

Truman nodded slowly, his mind carefully analyzing everything Kyle was telling him. "If they're spirits of some land-and forgive me, but I'm no expert-doesn't someone have to be commanding them?"

Kyle shook his head. "There are many different kinds of spirits. Some are like Seeks-the-Moon, Charlotte, and Delta, who are conjured, shaped, and given form by magicians. These and other similar types are all commanded and can only operate within certain restraints."

Still standing by the painting, Seeks-the-Moon cleared his throat.

Kyle glanced over at him. "Some are given a great deal of flexibility, even autonomy, because of their nature and the fact that they've proven trustworthy. All, however, have distinct personalities, sometimes with unwanted idiosyncrasies. Depending on how they're treated, some spirits may even be angry, insolent, or vengeful toward their masters. They are all, once conjured, living creatures.

There are other spirits, generally classified as 'free spirits,' whose wills are their own. A conjured spirit can become free if its master dies or if the spirit becomes powerful enough to turn on its master and defeat him. There are also spirits in the world who are free simply by their own nature. They have their own goals, own desires, and some are quite difficult to understand.

There are a number of different categories of free spirits, as we understand them. We could be dealing with tricksters, shadows, anima, or players."

"Christ," said Facile. His face bad gone white.

"I'm afraid you've all but lost me," said Truman.

"Well, to make a long story short, I'm certain we're dealing with spirits, but I can't be certain what kind."

Facile looked at Truman, then asked to be excused for a moment. As he was going out, one of Truman's own security personnel entered, escorted by a Knight Errant trooper. The building guard was carrying a cold-storage container. Hanna Uljaken gestured toward Kyle. "Please give that to Mr. Teller."

The guard nodded, walked over, and handed Kyle the case. It was heavy and only slightly larger than a tool box, but Kyle knew it held enough coolant and battery power to keep the enclosed sample frozen for weeks. "Thank you," he said.

"What's that?" asked Truman.

"Your daughter Melissa's ritual sample. I think we should locate her as soon as possible. Were Lieutenant Facile here, I'm sure he'd agree."

The hell with Facile," said Truman. "I agree."

"Good," Kyle said, hefting the container. "I'd prefer if Knight-"

The telecom against the far wall beeped, and Hanna Uljaken hurried to answer it

"As I was saying, I'd prefer that Knight Errant handle it," Kyle went on. There are a couple of other avenues I'd like to pursue, and since the ritual will take several hours, it would be better if someone else performed it."

Truman nodded. "I'm sure that won't be a problem." He looked around the room. "Where the hell is Facile?"

"He hasn't come back," said his wife.

"Well, I want him in here." Truman started to stride toward the door, but Hanna interrupted him. – "Excuse me!" she called from across the room. Everyone turned toward her. She'd taken the incoming call on audio- only to avoid distracting the others and was cradling the handset against her head. She was waving at them.