Hidden outside a quiet townhouse in Caverlock, Hazelnut crouched on a tree branch, hood up and cloak pulled tight around her shoulders. Below, the last of Lieutenant Zywrath’s dinner guests traded farewells before dispersing down the street. V had finally sent her the job: break into the lieutenant’s home and steal the file on the Cremation Killer. Easy work—except this target happened to be one of the few honest cops left in the city.

  As the final guest rounded the corner, Zywrath stepped into the alley beside his house. A cigarette glowed in his hand. Hazelnut frowned. She'd seen a two-year smoker’s recovery pin on his dashboard. Tonight, his grip on the cigarette trembled in the dark.

  He’s cracking, she thought. And here I am making it worse.

  She dropped from the tree and slipped to the front porch. The security system was robust—keypad tied into garage alarms, motion sensors in the window frames. But Zywrath had left the front door cracked while he stepped out for his smoke. It was barely half an inch, but more than enough.

  Hazelnut slipped through the gap soundlessly.

  The remnants of a dinner party littered the table. Empty glasses surrounded the remains of a roast in a serving tray. She listened for any other movement—nothing. The lieutenant lived alone.

  Upstairs, the glow of a computer monitor leaked from under a doorway. His office. She eased the door open and slipped inside. Filing cabinet, desk, lamp, closed blinds. One drawer sat open; the very top.

  Perfect.

  She flicked on her flashlight—clenched it between her teeth—and sifted. Several files were taped shut. Closed cases. She slid them aside and discovered the open case file she needed. The Cremation Killer. She’d barely pulled it free when click—a lamp snapped on behind her.

  Zywrath sat in an armchair in the corner, utterly still, his service pistol aimed at the center of her spine. Hazelnut's flashlight clattered to the carpet. He took out his phone and dialed a number. "You can go home now, Benny. Thank you for the assistance." He spoke calmly, then hung up. All without taking his eyes off her. "You were at the lounge. Who sent you?"

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  Hazelnut kept her hands where he could see them, two extra files still clutched in her grip. "I can explain."

  "Put. Those. Back."

  She slid the extra files carefully into the drawer and swallowed hard. "My name is Hazelnut. I was sent here…to steal whatever information you had on the Cremation Killer."

  "Sent. By whom?"

  "I don’t know his name." Zywrath reached for his phone. "Wait—please! I don’t know because they never gave me a name. They call themselves V."

  A pause. Evaluating. "Explain."

  Hazelnut exhaled slowly. "After the Aethercorp explosion, V contacted me out of nowhere. Said my skills could be useful. Offered enough money to keep my building from getting seized. The one condition was that I steal your file."

  "I am hearing justification, not explanation," Zywrath said, voice flat.

  "I am explaining. V knows things—about me, about my building—things no one else could. They left me no other choice. I had to do this to protect the people who live there."

  Zywrath studied her. In the long silence that followed, the pistol finally lowered. "Do not mistake this for forgiveness. I simply care more about catching the killer than prosecuting a desperate thief." He stepped forward. "Why does V want this file?"

  "I swear I don’t know!"

  "Did you ever stop to think the one who would benefit the most from this information would be the killer themselves?"

  That thought had never crossed her mind. She was so focused on wanting to keep everyone safe, she hadn’t even considered that a possibility. "I…I didn't—" her voice cracked.

  Zywrath’s jaw tightened. "Exactly. Which is why you are going to help me instead. Here is my offer: I do not arrest you tonight and in return, you feed V false information. Tell them you need more time. In three days, you come back. I will have a file prepared for them."

  Hazelnut quickly agreed.

  He escorted her to the door without lowering his eyes. "There is something bigger happening in this city. More than a serial murderer. I want to limit casualties—but to save the many, sometimes I must risk the few. Right now, you are one of the few. And frankly, I am still not sure if I can trust you."

  She hesitated at the threshold, then reached inside her jacket and slowly produced the real file she’d hidden away. Zywrath stiffened—ready to draw—but she stopped and held it out, surrendering it.

  "How’s this," she said quietly, "for a trust exercise?"

  Zywrath took the file and seemed to exhale in relief for the first time all evening. "…It is a start."

  Hazelnut made it home without being followed and pulled V’s burner phone from beneath her bed. She typed:

  No luck tonight. Have to try again.

  The reply came almost instantly.

  Failure can have undesirable consequences. Just ask Taurence.