"Hathaway...oh my goodness." Jan gasped.

She crouched down and Lilah did as well.

"Sorry?"

Jan shook her head. "Nothing." She looked up and froze. "Boys...."

"Got it, Auntie Jan," someone said.

Sure enough, an enforcer caught the little boy—creature who fell from the ceiling.

"That's twenty-six males so far. And...two females," Lilah observed. "That just doesn't seem right."

Even now, a week later, the girls, though as low on reasoning as their brothers, had grown. If Lilah didn't know any better, she'd say they'd taken on another year.

Jan said, "Maybe the girls just learned to walk faster and...just wandered off?"

Their Newbreed crew vanished overnight—everyone left when Escott did. Lilah hadn't thought it would affect the force, but it had. When the Chief stepped down rather than issue an arrest warrant, it certainly did.

Escott's offense would fall to Jerret; everyone knew what that meant. Imps grew back limbs, imps healed. Most crimes meant a cut to contend with, but the final punishment was death. A life for a life. By imp law, Lander caused the death of one of his own fellow Newbreed—his life was forfeit. As far as the imp leader was concerned, the business with Escott was finished.

Not all Yules agreed. So now the Chief was gone. No one was there to fill the spot, yet, though Lilah secretly wished Jan would try and get it. Jan was smart, compassionate, and fearless. Her jokes were horrid, but she always had something positive to say.

"Arthur Ether Edmond was the only one willing to let his kids work here. But only four," Jan said. She gestured up at the two enforcers in thick gloves, holding the boy's mouth open while another brought a glass bottle by his fangs. "At least until we can test and confirm that their venom isn't deadly to Newbreeds or imps."

Two enforcers slammed a small cage shut.

Lilah hated being called cold, but she could admit it to herself now, two months after Lander's death, nothing really shook her. Even Lander's passing was less troubling to her than her feelings toward it—or lack thereof. Especially when she found out about Gwen. And yet...seeing these children in cages was hard to endure.

All of them cried for the listless woman on the floor—their mother. They tried to reach for her. Some even dug into the ground to hide below her.

A part of Lilah hoped they could figure out how to help the woman and then revive her again, but the longer they stayed down there and witnessed the children's feeding, the less likely that recovery seemed.

Besides that, they were all feral—many with physical characteristics which were either underdeveloped or overdeveloped. Only a mere ten percent seemed ailment free, but their growth was so slow that to date, they had yet to find one who could speak.

Something else concerned Lilah—Jan knew this woman and knew her by name.

"Who was she?"

Face crimson, Jan shook her head. "Can't say I know."

Lilah waited, staring at her in hopes of breaking her resolve.

Finally, Jan said, "When we abandoned the underground, anyone left behind was considered dead. I...I guess she won an imp's affection."

This surely couldn't be what an imp's affection looked like.

"W—why are there so many lines?" one of Arthur Ether Edmond's sons asked. "And they're coming through the babies twice. You notice that?"

Another Newbreed came by and yet another. One finally called to Jan, "Auntie." He paused when he saw Jan and Lilah rise to stand side by side.

"What is it?" Jan asked.

The youth shook his head. "Maybe I'm mistaken."

Long ago Lilah could see red strings all around. She begged her father to teach her how to block them out. She hated them because while she saw them extending specifically to families. There was even one leading from her to Gus-Gus. There weren't lines leading from them to either of her parents.

That was a question she wanted answered. Today, she decided to let those lines form again.

It was still there, the same line she saw extending from Gus, but this time it came from Jan. She dared not ask why, but that line meant Jan was her blood relative. Her parents weren't.

Now she could see it when she looked at the children and the woman on the floor.

"The lines do extend twice."

Jan, whose husband was also an E—a rather strong one—understood.

"Please...." A guttural whisper came. "Please...."

Lilah rushed to the woman's side, unsure what to say or do. "She's talking, Auntie." To her surprise, Jan didn't come close—not until Lilah looked back at her. "Auntie?"

Stride unsteady, Jan lurched toward them and crouched down.

"My name's Lilah, this is my Auntie Jan, we're here to help you," Lilah said.

"Jan.... Blond hair and beautiful Jan, is that you?"

Teeth chattering, Jan nodded. "Hathaway...how are you?"

A tear escaped the woman's closed eyes. "Is he gone? Is he gone?"

Lilah waited for someone else to do something. Jan was perfect in almost all things. She was compassionate usually, so much so Lilah often thought it would be Jan's downfall. But she did nothing today. Lilah glanced from her to the shivering body before them and made a hard decision—she held the woman's shoulder.

"Ma'am, we're here to help. We're here to help, but you need to help us understand what's going on."

"Kill me. Please kill me. Kill me before he comes back. Please. Please kill me."

Silence filled the tunnel save for the rattling cages of the children. The meager enforcers on hand traded a glance.

Jan remained mute, a strange expression of woe and disgust written on her face.

"Who, ma'am?" Lilah asked. "Who are you afraid of?"

"My son."

Lilah scanned the four cages, packed with babies and tried to pinpoint which one was the source of the woman's distress.

"Please...please kill me."

Rather than her shoulder, Lilah reached down and tried to hold the woman's hands. There was no life. Closer inspection confirmed her suspicions, the entire arm was limp.

"It's been broken," Jan whispered. "All limbs. Look at her feet."

Lilah didn't. The purple discoloration was one she'd resolved not to witness.

"He's left an impression. Only he can fix it," Jan said. "She cannot walk or move. He's made sure of that."

"Please. Please kill me...."

It came as a distant chant through the sobs. Jan helped Lilah up and led her away. "Could it be that...that...that Winrose is her son? And that's why so many of these babies are reacting so strangely. Their makeup isn't diverse and it's causing trouble?"

Lilah cringed. "That's awful."

"That's the only explanation I can come up with," Jan said. "I just can't imagine what else could have happened. She was involved with an imp. She was stuck underground. From what I hear, diehard imps reject imps who take human mates. She raised him alone and...and things got bad."

Lilah felt sorry for the woman just lying there. Who knew how long she had been there. That bastard Winrose didn't even bother to clothe her.

"And we do have to find out, because some Newbreeds—the ones with imp fathers—are mature enough and want to date or settle down. They're panicking." Jan sighed. "We need to give them answers. Darla's scheduling a safe sex class this week. She could use the info."

Something still nagged at Lilah. "Still can't understand what happened to all the girls. Even if some walked away, you'd think there'd be more."

Jan scanned the tunnel. "It is what it is, button. S'not like they're invisible."

Invisible. That word left Lilah cringing. On a whim, she asked the nearest Newbreed. "What do you do on the farm if you hear an imp but can't see him?"

All eyes fell to one Newbreed who came forward. "That's where I come in, ma'am. Just dial the eyesight back and listen for a heartbeat. I'm the best at it."

"Do that now, then."

After regarding her in confusion, the Newbreed complied. To Lilah's horror, he thrust a hand by her throat and caught hold of something.

A screech came with the naked female creature he yanked forward. That terrifying action prompted the other Newbreeds in attendance to do something similar. The one 'best at it' caught five more. The females were bigger, though they found some young. Most shivered in fear as they were dragged out of hiding.

Jan was too stunned to speak.

Lilah shared the sentiment and said, "Put out the word to all Newbreeds, this invisible thing's no joke."

"Poor Gwen," was all Jan could mutter.

The four Newbreeds looked up. "What is that?" one asked.

"A powder?" another answered.

Jan brushed her arm off. Lilah needed a minute to see it; a thin mist filled the tunnel, released from tiny tubes in the ceiling.

Babies cried out and the cages rattled.

One of the Newbreeds opened his mouth then tasted it. "Isn't this the medicine Aunt Darla gave us last month? Are we getting another dose?"

Medicine? The only thing Darla gave out to each and every Newbreed child was a lower concentration of Karen Blackwell's poison's antidote generated by Escott's blood to ensure no one need worry.

"Lilah," Jan called. "Help me. This thing killed Winrose's daughter almost instantly. These babies probably don't have a resistance."

But by the time Lilah reached, two or three of the once rambunctious babies lay still.

"Hurry up," Jan screamed. "Get all the babies out. Get them all out. Don't touch their teeth but get them all out. Move. Move."

Hathaway—if that's what her name was—wasn't as fortunate to get help.

"We have to leave her," Jan said, hurrying to help carry a cage. "We can come back. She's human. She should be fine. Let's go."

They made it out with only a handful of the babies still breathing, a great majority of them in deep distress. Nearly all females succumbed to the poison. Another hour passed before they had the free manpower to go down and help the mother.

Lilah slowed in her stride at the blood. The woman's throat had been cut, but Lilah couldn't tell how.

A medic checked and confirmed, "She's dead."

Crestfallen, Lilah crouched down and said, "We'll get her up, and get her clean. We'll put her to rest with respect."

Now seemingly endless amounts of red lines no longer led to the woman. Nothing led to her at all. If she were alive, her children would be easier to track—now they'd have to fend alone. Lilah considered it and concluded maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. This woman lying alone with no one feeding, at least she was finally free.

Winrose was still out there, but with these red lines gone, he'd be harder to find. That would have to come after they tended to his young. And at least one of his children currently in custody could lead them to him.

One of the newer enforcers still had a hard time shaking the image of the listless woman before him. "Who would do this?"

Who else would it be? The one with the poison; the one whose house rested right on top of this tunnel—Karen Blackwell.

More mist fell and it made Lilah wonder just how often it did. It would keep the critters back but not Winrose.

Lilah paid Blackwell a visit the same day, not at all too pleased when she knocked on the door. Karen was busy with another guest but would see her shortly.

Lilah's blood boiled by the time she was allowed to enter the study. She froze at the sight of her own picture sketched on the wall. A few more sketches lined the room.

"Should I stay?" someone asked.

Karen sat down at her desk and shook her head. "No. See yourself out."

Tine crawled out from the shadows and walked out on all fours.

Before he could leave, she called, "Tine? I...I didn't mean to say it so coldly. I apologize. All right?"

"Right." He kicked the door shut behind him.

Lilah stared at it in shock. The imp. An imp was in Karen Blackwell's house.

"I hired him to help us until Winrose is caught," Karen said.

"I suppose you have to get the protection now that you've started an all-out war on his brood. You didn't have to hurt those children."

Karen sat back. "They are dangerous, and they've infested the city. You'd be wise to acknowledge that." She sat up. "What is it you want?"

Lilah opened her mouth...stunned. What did she want? She wanted to come up here and give Karen a piece of her mind. Her eyes settled on a sketchbook on the woman's desk instead, and she lost power. Karen had Lander's belongings. It seemed out of place to keep them. Everything about that was awful—the two girls got legitimacy and it was easy to see that Karen's disposition changed nearly overnight. She was gentle and affectionate. Now Tine was here. Escott's attack put fear into her—not an attack against her, but against her ragtag family she refused to acknowledge.

In the last two months, Lilah didn't allow herself to think of Lander. She missed Gwen like crazy, but Lander was something else. At this very moment, she thought of her own parents and how they now pretended she didn't exist—now they lived their lives without obstacles. But children weren't supposed to be obstacles. Karen Blackwell would even give her grandchild legitimacy—albeit indirectly. But what of Lander? That wasn't fair.

"I want you to honor your son," Lilah said. It wasn't her place to demand anything of them. "You announce all these things on your radio show, yet you left him out. Why?"

Karen Blackwell folded her arms. "You act as if I didn't care what happened."

Lilah often thought that Karen didn't. This was a private study, yet Karen filled it with Lander's drawings but not his picture. Hell, even Lilah's own picture was here, apparently.

"Patience was never his forte," Karen said. "After I got the girls, I'd planned to get him. And not just him, but to hire his father as a helper or worker, and of course accommodate his only son. But I couldn't after he said such awful things about him in court. I couldn't justify hiring an awful imp like that. And even now when Mr. Blackwell went missing.... That was a chance, too." Her brown eyes settled on the desk before her. "But it's too late now."

Lilah had no response to give. When Karen slid the sketchbook forward, Lilah flinched.

"These are his latest ones. Perhaps you should have them."

Intent on refusing, Lilah changed her mind when Karen Blackwell cocked her head to the right. The woman expected Lilah to shun it. Why wouldn't she? Lander died in disgrace. His face wasn't fit for the walls by the looks of it. He could be easily forgotten—just a whisper in passing here and there until no one remembered. And Karen expected Lilah to refuse that book.

Lander made mistakes—awful ones that caused others suffering. But he was someone's child, and parents were supposed to see past the bad and to the good. Karen Blackwell wouldn't look, and Tine must have accepted these pictures as being enough of a tribute. They didn't seem enough, though.

Lilah took the book and turned to leave but paused at the door. "You will honor him. You should honor him."

"It's too late," Karen said.

"No...no it's not. It's not too late at all." Lilah walked out into the cold night air and felt miserable. This didn't get better as she passed the medical building and tested the elevator to find that it still wouldn't rise to the top floor. Short of climbing it...there wasn't much she could do to meet DeGrasse and her father again.

She got home just as Gus readied to leave. It was rare he'd come home at all—Lilah worried he'd moved out. He had an apprenticeship at that medical building. Being an E meant he could work earlier than Yules; healing came naturally to Elementals. The job was hard, though, and maybe it was taking its toll because Gus looked awful. His hair was gone—cut so short she barely recognized him. He must have seen their parents. He must have seen their father and gotten help.

"You won't believe what happened today," Lilah began, desperate for the inclusion.

Gus waited till he was down the steps before he said to her, "Aunt Darla came in today and miscarried before even having the exam. She's coming in tomorrow and I have to tell her that not only has her current pregnancy failed, but that there's still a growth. That means we have to take her womb out. And all this without telling one peep to her husband. So tell me again how you're having a bad day...."

Lilah lost power.

Gus slammed the door behind him.

The next day wasn't much better. Breakfast was so quiet it was painful. No Gwen to show up out of nowhere and chat her ear off. No Essy to fend off. Nothing. She made the mistake of opening Lander's sketchbook.

Another portrait of her stood out on the first page. The second and third were that of Escott. But it was the final page that made Lilah lower the book. It was them—her and Lander sitting under a tree. They looked like lovers. The likeness was so real she shed a tear.

Three months ago, this picture would have made her laugh from the absurdity. Now she didn't find it even one bit ridiculous. She relived that night more times than she'd care to. The words from Gwen, to the words she herself had said toward Lander. Each flashback to it made her even more ashamed.

But to find this picture, too....

From the sofa by the window where she sat, the radio on the sill, she stared down at the light post where she'd seen Lander and Gwen last. Her eyes watered.

She turned on the radio more in an effort to keep her thoughts from wandering. Secretly, she was looking for Karen's broadcast. Acknowledgement of Lander would be a long ways off but she hoped. One name caught her attention and she stopped and went back to the channel.

"... DeGrasse for a charity event to fund some new programs at Big Henry. Also, the local enforcers want to remind you all, enforcer wages are going up. So if you've ever been interested, this is the time to sign up. Ms. DeGrasse, thank you for joining us."

"Mrs., actually, we've just made it official today."

Lilah sat back. The joy in the woman's voice cut her through.

"Pardon me for asking but what do you say to the critics who question your new husband's fast marriage mere months after his wife's death? They were a very well-known couple."

That was a damn good question. Lilah waited, as did anyone listening because DeGrasse fell silent for a long while.

She said, "Well...I suppose—I suppose I'd have to say no one should judge. My husband's been through quite a bit. If I make him happy now, that's what should matter."

The announcer didn't voice any agreement, instead, he said, "What have you got for us this evening?"

"Well, I'm known for my dancing, but I hope the song will bring a few people. I'm new, but I'd love to get a chance to fund our charity. The orphanage hasn't much money now without a steady director since Mr. Blackwell went missing." Before the interview finished, she hurried to add, "And I can't emphasize enough how badly the enforcers need new blood."

Lilah listened with a numbness reserved for the dead. When the music started, she turned the radio off. From here she could see Big Henry. The busy lights indicated the show was in full swing.

One tear came and to her surprise, another followed and another still. Her eyes settled on that light post and she allowed herself to succumb to it. She longed for her family, for Gwen, and as hard as it was to admit, she longed for Escott, too.

It was late when she returned to that damn medical building with the intent of climbing it from the outside if she had to. She was going to see them; she was going to get some answers.