that he hadn’t assumed. “Sounds good.”
“I need to speak with Desmond,” Rodán said, “so I’ll invite him to tonight’s Tracker meeting.”
“Great.” It would save me time trying to locate the Sorcerer. Rodán had much better methods of getting ahold of anyone than most of us.
“In the meantime,” he went on, “I’ll send you a list of the Trackers, the locations they are missing from, and the name of their Proctor, whom you need to contact to begin your investigation. Gather all the facts you can. Since Monique is a Proctor, I would like you to talk with her special team’s leader, Rodriguez.”
“Got it,” I said. “Olivia and I will be all over this.”
“Check your e-mail,” Rodán said. “And Nyx … watch for anything unusual. Be on guard. You’re good, but so were the Trackers who are missing,” he added before he signed off.
I gave Olivia the details of my conversation as I took a look at the e-mail Rodán had sent. I brought up the document on the huge wall of monitors. It had recently replaced my collection of Otherworld weapons, which included Drow-forged arrows with diamond arrowheads.
With my go-ahead, Olivia had removed the collection and brought us up to date with current technology. I had to admit that the monitors were pretty cool.
Olivia hadn’t stopped there with her technological revolution. Wireless headsets and direct access to major government and law enforcement databases were also among our upgrades into the modern and out of the Middle Ages, as Olivia liked to say. I’d told her many times that I came from a world forever locked in that age; compared with what I’d grown up with, we’d been cutting edge in our PI office.
We reviewed the document that I’d brought up using two of the monitors to make one supersize copy for us both to read. In the document, the missing Proctor and all ten Trackers were listed, as well as what race of paranorm they each were.
The information for each Tracker included his or her last known address, contact phone number, Proctor’s name and phone number, the territory the Tracker had covered, and the date that each of them had disappeared.
Olivia’s gaze swept over the document as she read it. “This gives us some basic information but doesn’t tell us a whole hell of a lot.”
I studied it and instinct kicked in. “It tells us that no Fae are missing, which could be significant. Of course that could mean nothing, too.”
Olivia used an electronic pointer to highlight the timetable. “In every single case, the disappearances happened ten days apart, from the beginning of January to mid-April.”
“With the exception of the two Los Angeles Trackers who vanished the same night.” I nodded as I spoke. “The territories of those two were close to each other. One was a Shifter, the other a Witch.”
“Two disappearing the same night,” Olivia said. “That doesn’t really fit the MO of the other seven.”
“What’s the significance of a ten-day lapse between disappearances?”
“You’ve got me.” Olivia slipped on her phone headset. “Ready when you are.”
I picked up my own headset. “I’ll take the Proctor and the first five Trackers on the list.”
She nodded. “I’ll get started on the others.”
I came to a complete stop and Olivia did, too. “It’s been exactly ten days since the last disappearance,” she said, saying what I was thinking.
“We need to have Rodán send a warning to all Proctors.” I reached for my phone. “If that is significant, someone could be in danger tonight.”
EIGHT
The Pit was rocking.
Rodán’s nightclub was easily the best club in New York City for paranorms. Thanks to Rodán’s magic, the Pit’s location was shielded. New Yorkers and tourists never even noticed the entrance, which was beside the Dakota building at Seventy-second Street and Central Park West.
The place was packed. As a Tracker, I didn’t have to wait in the long line at the entrance.
After checking his ID, the bouncer, Fred, let the Shifter in front of me through the door. All paranorms had to get an ID showing that they were of age according to their race. Elves came of age at twenty-five, while most of the Fae were only fifteen by Earth Otherworld standards. Beings aged differently.
“Hey, Nyx.” Fred gave me one of his adorable puppy-dog smiles as he greeted me. He was a Doppler whose animal form was a beautiful golden retriever.
“I’ve got something for you.” I dug in my purse then handed him a giant Milk-Bone, his favorite.
With a grin he pocketed the treat, thanked