Renegade by Nancy Northcott Page A

guard followed.
    A moment later the ghouls raced into view, but the survivors were already headed home.
    He forced himself to breathe. The helos wouldn’t reach the Collegium for an hour. An hour to return home, longer before Stefan would have time to tell him whether she—and so many others—lived or died.
    Live , he willed her. Whether you help me or not, you have to live.
    She would never have attacked with an unscreened force. She’d walked into a trap. And where had all those ghouls come from? Had the nest grown? Or was it reinforced?
    The screened, potent ghoul defenses, the swift response of the defenders, the ready counterattack, meant her targets had known she was coming. She and her force had been betrayed, as he and his once had been.
    His fists balled again. He knew the pain she’d feel, the grief and guilt of unnecessary loss, knew them as only someone who’d led others to their deaths could. If she lived, she would need someone who understood that, and he would be there for her.
    If she lived.

Chapter 6
    G riff paced the shelter common room’s worn, beige linoleum. He’d volunteered to give art lessons to keep his mind clear, but it wasn’t working. Good thing for him the two girls and three boys seated at the long, wooden table seemed absorbed in their pictures.
    In the room’s far corner, several adults occupied chairs around a television. Entertainment Tonight blared from the set.
    Griff walked back to the battered table and leaned over the seven-year-old girl’s shoulder. “Nice flowers, Josie. I like the red.”
    She beamed at him from under curly blond bangs. “It’s my favorite. Thanks, Gray.”
    He wandered around the table and absently returned little Molly’s smile. Will had called, told him Valeria had attacked the nest to rescue a kidnapped college student. That explained why she’d gone there, but where the hell had all those ghouls come from? Was his info outdated, or had someone reinforced the nest? He would ask Javier to check on that.
    God, she’d hit that tree so damned hard, and so many of her troops had died. Those deaths would screw with her head more than anything she personally suffered.
    Griff glanced at the clock. Eight thirty. He should’ve left hours ago, in case she blamed his info and sent mages after him, but he hadn’t been able to make himself go until he knew she would be okay.
    Marc walked in from the hall doorway. “The softball crew’s back, so you have five minutes, kids. Then it’s lights out upstairs.”
    A chorus of groans answered him.
    In the doorway, Todd Claypool, the blond, lanky delivery boy, waited. His kid sister, sandy-haired, thirteen-year-old Robin, stood at his shoulder. They’d taken a couple of the shelter’s middle schoolers out for a round of softball with the town kids.
    Robin grinned at Griff, her brown eyes dancing. “Are we in time for magic tricks?”
    The kids set up a clamor for their favorite tricks. Smiling, Marc cocked an eyebrow at Griff. “We can push bedtime back a few minutes for magic.”
    Marc might pretend he was doing it for the kids, but he seemed to enjoy seeing the tricks. Maybe that was because he knew they were real magic.
    The coin trick was a favorite, and it wouldn’t take long. The usual, Mundane version worked by sleight of hand, but Griff used translocation. The coin vanished because he wrapped power around it, shifting it out of reality and through the space between life and death to reappear wherever he directed it.
    “Well,” he started, and his pocket vibrated. He tensed. “Sorry, but I can’t tonight. I have to go, kids. I’ll make it up to you.” He shot an urgent look at Marc, who shepherded the disappointed children out of the room.
    The kids went without too much muttering. They knew he’d make good on his promise.
    Griff glanced at the caller ID. Stefan’s number. Praying for good news, he whipped the phone to his ear and stepped onto the deserted front stoop. The muggy air felt