But the prospect of what awaited her in the afterlife was more horrifying than what she wrought with her gift. And it wouldn’t honor Matthew and Erik if she surrendered, if she failed to live as they’d wanted her to, as they’d taught her to do by example and the strength of their love.

Tir followed Araña to the stream though he didn’t join her in it. Concern for her gnawed at him as she washed the blood away, but it was mixed with tendrils of suspicion. There was more to her visions than she’d told him previously.

His eyes flicked to the spider mark now riding her shoulder. Buried memories fought to surface, but they were kept suppressed by the band around his neck.

She was human, her gifted nature not obvious to him in the way he’d known Rebekka possessed talents most humans didn’t. He trailed a finger along the hated collar of his enslavement. When he was free of it…

“Tell me about the vision,” he said, his misgiving deepening when Araña hunched in on herself.

A slight tremble of her body and he went to her without it being a conscious decision. The delicate line of her spine drew his attention, making him fight against pressing kisses along its length.

“Tell me,” he coaxed, his lips brushing over the spider on her shoulder as his hand wedged itself between her thighs to curl possessively around her mound.

“Something’s going to happen to Rebekka.”

“What?”

Araña gave a small shrug. “I don’t know.”

Tir heard the truth in her words, but her emotions confused him. Guilt bombarded him, thick and heavy in comparison to the fear he sensed in her.

His hand left her cunt to go to her chin. Gripping it, he turned her face so it was no longer hidden by the silky black curtain of her hair. Haunted midnight eyes met his, their depths hinting at secrets but also flashing with a resolve not to share them.

They stared at each other for long moments. “What do you see when the flame takes you?” he asked.

She stiffened instantly and would have pulled away if his hands hadn’t prevented it. Silence was the only answer she gave him, and he discovered he didn’t like it—not because he feared her visions but because she stirred intensely primitive feelings in him, making him want to possess not just her body but her very soul.

He released her abruptly, rebelling against feeling those things about a mortal female—even one who had freed him. “Keep your secrets as long as they don’t involve me. But remember this, if I find they make you my enemy, not even the sweet temptation of your body will save you from death.”

REBEKKA lifted Eston into her arms. Her heart ached over what she was about to do, but there was no choice. “This is for the best,” she said, managing the lie though Levi would smell it on her.

“I’m going with you to the Mission.”

“I’ll be fine. I can do this by myself.” Her already tense stomach grew more so at the thought of Levi leaving the red zone.

According to law he had the same rights as anyone else when he was in human form, but Oakland was a city controlled by pure humans, many of whom only barely tolerated the gifted, and it wasn’t uncommon for guardsmen and police to carry amulets that changed color in the presence of Weres.

The red zone was the safest place for shapeshifters who didn’t live among their own kind. In the red zone Weres could defend themselves without fear of trumped-up charges or indiscriminate slaughter by the authorities.

Rebekka imagined it was because the red zone was much like the towns of the Wild West she’d read about in a history book once. A certain amount of lawlessness existed and violence was common. Only instead of a sheriff keeping some semblance of order, it was fear of the vice lords that kept those who lived in and frequented the red zone in line.

“I should leave now,” she said, already fighting tears as she imagined surrendering the child she’d cared for less than a day.

“I’m going with you,” Levi repeated, his tone telling her it was pointless to argue.

Rebekka nodded, accepting the inevitable, and the gesture caused her cheek to brush against the soft texture of the toddler’s hair.

A fist tightened around her heart. It’s the only way, she thought, steeling herself for what she was about to do—but also promising herself she wouldn’t forget Eston.

His father deserved death. Rebekka felt no remorse in playing a part in ambushing the trapper and freeing those meant for the maze. But in doing it, they’d made an orphan of Eston unless he was reunited with his mother. And that did weigh on her conscience.

Prostitutes rarely carried their children to term. And those who did—

Rebekka knew she’d been lucky in so many ways. To be born at all had been the first stroke of it. And it had been followed by so many more, including being gifted.

Her mother hadn’t abandoned her on the street or in the forest, leaving it up to fate whether she survived or not. She hadn’t ended up in the Mission or been sold.

Even in the red zone, those who trafficked in children didn’t operate openly. But it was common knowledge, especially in the brothels, that unwanted pregnancies could be turned into profit in any number of ways.

There were men whose sexual fetishes involved pregnant women. And after the baby was born, there were brokers whose clients ranged from humans with sexual perversions and dark mages looking for sacrificial victims, to supernatural beings with an appetite for human children.

Rebekka’s arms tightened involuntarily on Eston. He’d be safe at the Mission.

Davida was one of the Church’s faithful. She didn’t like the gifted or the supernatural, but she treated the children in her care well.

They left Levi’s safe place in the red zone, staying well away from where most of the activity was centered and crossing the border where forest crowded a section being reclaimed by the non-gifted. The bus stop was blocks farther, and clustered with waiting people.

When the bus arrived, Rebekka paid her fare and Levi’s before claiming a window seat. He sat next to her, tense at being trapped in a confined space, though only she could tell it.

Levi tilted his head forward and feigned sleep, as if he were an ordinary human bracing for a long, tedious ride filled with a seemingly endless number of stops until he reached his destination. Rebekka looked out the window, trusting Levi’s sense of smell and his instincts to warn of danger.

The bus grew more and more crowded as they made their way toward the heart of Oakland. Eston trembled and clutched at her arms, making her wonder if this was his first trip to a city. She murmured soothingly and wished his vocabulary and ability to speak were more advanced; then maybe she could understand more of what he said than just his first name and his cries for his mother.

Rebekka told herself she should take advantage of the long bus trip by taking a nap, but her mind was too busy and her heart too heavy. She leaned her head against the glass and watched the scenery change.

The bus route skirted the area where the wealthy and powerful lived. She wondered what it would be like to live among those who didn’t worry about food or shelter or even the law.

She envied their freedom and security despite the damage she’d seen them do when they played in the red zone. Downtown came into view a little while later and, with it, an increase in the number of guardsmen and policemen patrolling the area.

Rebekka tensed out of habit but didn’t turn away from the window. Where there were citizen witnesses, it was always safer, and she often visited the library, though the building next to it housed the headquarters for both police and guardsmen.

As they approached the library, a flag fluttering on the antenna of a sleek black sedan with darkly tinted windows caught her attention. The flag had a gold background with a red lion rampant in its center as part of an elaborate shield design—a heraldic crest. All of the founding families of Oakland had them, and many of the wealthy had followed suit by claiming ancestral emblems or designing new ones for themselves.