“My art first started out like a kind of uncontrollable force—the kind of force that requires focus and time. After much time—and even more focus—it stopped just happening to me and started aiding me.

  “When I reached for this girl, I found nothing dishonest in her rhythm. I only found fear: she was alone. She didn’t know what else to do. She needed help. God in heaven, what was I getting myself into?

  “‘She is coming with us.’ I sighed, grabbing my dark wool coat as we headed into the streets.

  “‘I am?’ She sounded equally surprised and delighted.

  “‘She is?’ Bo questioned, openly.

  “‘There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on, but I can definitely say, I vibe with it,’ I said. ‘Bo, she’s a client of mine, and just like with all clients, I get the job done.’ I turned back to her. ‘I think we can help each other. So if you’re open to it, yeah, you’re coming with us.’

  “‘Great!’ she said, apprehensively.

  “‘Great,’ Bo said, begrudgingly.

  “Throwing on my jacket, I lead the two of them out into the city.

  “‘I know someone who will have at least some information for us to start with.’ I threw up the closed sign on the bar, and they followed me down the street.

  “Running down my contact in the old Iron Kitchen District, I knew they’d try to pull me back into the game, but I wasn’t going back. I hadn't burned too many bridges there yet, so it seemed like a good place to start. The streets held a medley of scents vying for attention—old Chinese food, stale fried fish, backed up sewer water—hanging in the air like the alleyway behind a run-down restaurant. The buildings, simple brick and somewhat dilapidated, lacked the height and grandeur of the city's more affluent areas. The people who moved through these spaces mirrored the food they ate: rough, fast, and deadly. In a place without any real attractions, survival often meant turning to crime, just like my father’s people.

  “We moved quickly down familiar alleys until Bo sped up, signaling he wanted to talk.

  “‘Is bringing that broad really such a good idea?’ he said, turning a corner abruptly to face an open city street.

  “‘Listen, she’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions, and she feels safe enough around us,’ I replied, looking over my shoulder to keep track of her. What I saw was her playing with a small kitchen knife. She looked up and smiled at me, and for a moment, my world shifted.

  “Bo snapped his fingers. ‘Listen, you lovestruck wannabe hero, you need to start acting like the Wolf I know and not the pup I’m seeing. She is a liability waiting to happen. What if she gets her memories back midway through a deal and starts to panic? What if she’s lying and she’s one of the peacekeepers? What if she’s just trying to trick you and get the sheet music for herself?’ He pointed behind him. ‘With all the lesser gangs moving around, I’m uncomfortable staying out in the open too long. This dead weight dragging us down only heightens our chances of running into one of them.’

  “My good mood soured. I leveled my gaze at Bo, and as our eyes locked. I watched the color drain from his face. His reaction was nothing new; most men couldn’t handle or comprehend what my eyes were like. I was once told it felt like staring into the eyes of a predator right before it attacked.

  “‘Bo,’ I said in a controlled, quiet tone, ‘if you ever call me a pup again, I’ll cut out your guts and make violin strings out of them while you watch.’ I saw him swallow a gulp of air and remain quiet. ‘This girl is the truest thing I’ve seen in this city in a long time. She’s got something special, and I don’t want her out of my sight, especially in the vulnerable state she’s in. So if you’ve got a problem with me taking care of a lady—’

  “At that point, the mysterious woman with green eyes walked up close enough to Bo to break off my gaze. ‘We’ll just have to settle it out later, no hard feelings, right?’ I said quickly, trying to lighten my tone. We both laughed half heartedly as I clapped him on the back. The woman gave me a gentle smile this time, a beauty that burned right into my heart. For the next few minutes, I had Bo walk ahead while I stayed in the back with the lady.

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  “‘Excuse me, Mr. Wolf,’ she said as we continued our trek through the alleyways. Her voice was still like a melody to my heart, but I was beginning to push past the charm of it to understand what she was saying. ‘I didn’t want to seem rude, but I overheard a little of what you guys were arguing about,’ she said sympathetically. I felt my face grow hot and my eyes go wide before I looked down. ‘Oh, not much though, just a few things I have questions about,’ she continued in a calming voice. ‘Bo said I might be a peacekeeper. What is that?’

  “Poking our heads down an alleyway, we found another mouth into the open street. Bo and I knew this was as far as we could go using back alleys. As we walked out of the alleyway and into the open street air, I replied.

  “‘Remember how I said we’re looking for the musical composition of Joy?’ The girl nodded. ‘Well, she was one of the Nine Muses who built this city. She and her sisters each contributed greatly to both the founding and building of what you see here today. However, with most creative geniuses, the end result was different from what the others had in mind. Aptly named after the Muse of Peace, the peacekeepers police the city, establish order, and protect the public peace,’ I said, sarcasm dripping from my mouth. ‘Does any of that ring a bell?’ She shook her head, her eyes trailing off to a stand. Then she froze. I stopped too, wondering if I had said something offensive. ‘I’m sorry, are you all right?’

  “She looked back at me with tears in her eyes. That one look could’ve stopped my heart completely, but in her mercy, she spoke.

  “‘This place is so beautiful.’ She was so overwhelmed with emotion at what I had taken for granted so many times that I actually stopped and observed what was really going on around us. Bo reluctantly stopped a few feet away, shooting me an irritated glance. I ignored him and caught what she meant. We had made it out of the alleys and into the streets, stumbling upon an active and lively night. Street food vendors were everywhere, with small crowds surrounding them. The air was full of the smell of fresh foods and fried wonders. The moonlight reflected off the metal tin ceilings of carts, cascading light in a way I hadn’t noticed before. The streetlights cast an eerie silver glow onto the moving rabble of people. The contrast of silver and blue began to unwind the knots in my shoulders that I hadn’t realized were there. Even though my eye caught the lesser gang members littering the market, I couldn’t help but notice they were being cordial, if not outright nice. It seemed they had taken a ceasefire for this event.

  “I looked back at the girl and noticed she was walking toward one of the stands. I followed her, not trying to seem creepy but still unsure of her motives. Yeah, that’s right, because I was unsure. No other reason.

  “We must’ve spent ten, maybe twenty minutes walking from stand to stand, trying different foods or just watching them prepare various dishes. As we approached another stand, some sort of classical drink maker—a bartender to the layman—I watched as she was enraptured by the different options and services he provided. Coughing gently, I tried to get her attention.

  “‘Ahem, ma’am?’ I intoned. ‘I’ve been giving this some thought, and I just can’t keep calling you ‘girl with green eyes’ or ‘hey girl.’ You need a name until you remember your own. Any thoughts on that?’ Leaning over slightly, she continued to stare at the stand before straightening up.

  “‘I like that one,’ she said, pointing at an item on the menu, an herbal-infused water, heated and blended with honey. ‘That feels right. You can call me that.’ I looked at the word she was pointing at and couldn’t help but smile a little in bewilderment.

  “‘Tea?’

  “‘Yes.’ A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. ‘Tea is perfect.’

  Catching back up to where we had left off, good ol’ Bojangles hadn’t moved from his spot. Leaning up next to a bench, he caught our advance, and we began again without any words. He could be pissed all he liked; I wasn’t planning on doing this job like all the others. I was out of the game and would do my best to stay out.

  “We walked the streets of the Iron Kitchen for a few minutes until we arrived at an old meat processing plant where some of my old contacts worked. This entire time, Bo grew increasingly irritated. Something else was going on, but I didn’t know what. We walked around the building until we saw the entrance to the cellar, unmanned. I went down first, with Tea following close behind me.

  “Entering through the familiar metal doors, we found ourselves in a short hallway with another set of metal doors guarded by one man. He was heavyset with a bald head, dressed in the typical minion outfit: leather jacket, blue jeans, and a tattoo of a kraken on his neck. Sitting on a stool, reading something, he stopped to look up at us long enough to notice me. Then he shot up, tucked the papers into his leather jacket, and began his tough guy act.

  “‘We don’t take visitors or looky-loos, so why don’t you go ahead and leave? You’re in the wrong cellar.’