A/N: I was going to try to post this on Thanksgiving, but that obviously didn't work out. But it would have been awesome timing, because I want to thank all of you for sticking with this story even though I've been so slow at updating lately. The favs and follows and reviews [aw shucks, you guys!] and even just the views mean a lot and keep me motivated.

TL;DR: Thank you for being such awesome readers!

Chapter 6: In Which Bard Observes

I started the next day by asking Li for another favor and promising him dinner in return. Bard wasn't particularly thrilled at the prospect of spending another day apart, but his excitement over his new teeth hadn't worn off yet, so he wasn't investing much energy in the half-hearted glares he directed my way.

"You liked Li," I reminded him.

Bard grunted.

I stole a glance at him, my hands freezing halfway through the action of pulling my hair back. For the umpteenth time that morning, I'd decided to change it. I needed something professional looking, but not dour and boring. I'd taken the time to straighten it, but it was too long for me to wear loose, and I didn't want to slick it into a ponytail because I didn't like my scar. The inch-wide crescent of shiny, webbed skin started in front of the top of my right ear and ran to a tapered point just under my jaw. I'd taken to messy braids because the wispy pieces of my hair disguised the scar without getting in the way.

In the end, that was what I settled on: another braid. It would work.

"Yes or no?" I turned to Bard and spread my arms as if I were going on display.

He looked me up and down and nodded. I didn't know why I ever asked him for his opinion on my fashion choices—I always got the same response. The look, the nod, the I am a dog, I don't wear clothes eye roll.

I felt inexplicably relieved when I heard the front door open, soon followed by Jack's heavy footsteps. "Charlie?"

"In here!" I checked myself in the mirror one more time before walking out into the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway. "Does this work?" I asked. "It's not too casual, is it?"

I'd chosen a pair of dark-wash jeans and black flats I could run in; a white, button-down shirt; and a taupe blazer that I was not at all excited about wearing.

"I think you should take it off."

"The blazer?"

"Everything."

I stared at him, slightly horrified by the idea of starting over from scratch, but mostly suspicious. "You just want me to take my clothes off, don't you?"

"It's a compliment." He reclined against the doorframe, crossing his arms as a smirk pulled at his mouth. "You look nice."

"You're wearing a suit."

"I always wear a suit. It's mentioned in the job description and everything."

"I feel like I should be wearing suit."

"You don't need a suit," he said, not quite masking the laugh in his voice. "You'll be in a lab coat half the time, anyway."

"Yeah… Okay." I turned away, nodding in agreement as I distractedly walked back into the bathroom and looked into the mirror one last time. Jack's reflection appeared behind me. The bathroom wasn't exactly lacking in size—like the rest of the apartment, it was spacious and overdone—but the standing area in front of the vanity was narrow enough that Jack had to slip in right behind me.

He rested his chin on top of my head. I scowled at him, though I supposed it wouldn't take but a few seconds to fix my braid if he messed it up.

Our faces juxtaposed like that, I thought we looked like a couple of Matryoshka dolls. We were only slightly different shades of pale, him darker and me lighter, but our hair colors sat on near-opposite ends of the wheat-blonde, black-brown spectrum.

"Do I have to pretend to be British?" I asked his reflection. "Since I'm supposed to be with MI-6?"

"Nah. Misaki knows you're an outside consultant." His head moved up and down like a puppet as he tried to talk without giving up his chin-rest. "Your accent is horrible, anyway."

His eyes creased at the corners with a smile I couldn't quite see because of the angle. I'd always thought they were a particularly icy shade of blue, but I had only recently begun to appreciate the symbolism. My own eyes lacked any sort of color correlation to my abilities or personality—unless I wanted to be generous and say they were gunmetal gray when, in actuality, they weren't dark enough and shone green in certain lights.

My shoulders rose and fell as I filled my lungs and let my breath out in a long sigh. "What time is it?"

"Time to go."

Our reflections parted in the mirror; I turned and followed after him before I had time to think about the sudden, cool emptiness at my back. Bard pushed his nose into my hand as we walked down the hallway to the foyer. I snapped the leash to his collar, grabbed my bag, and locked the door behind us.

"Where's your shadow?" I asked Jack as we piled into the elevator.

"July? Went to Ikebukuro with April."

I raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Left you in the lurch, huh?"

"Not quite." He gave me a pointed look, his mouth turned up at the corners. "Someone had to chaperone you."

"And you drew the short straw." I laughed at his eye-roll—no doubt he'd volunteered for the job. "Am I going to get a codename?"

"I'm not sure there's a unit of time small enough."

"Ouch."

"Kidding. How about Agent Fortnight?" he suggested. I was about to point out that a fortnight wasn't very small when he added, "Or Millisecond. But you're not really an agent, so…"

I uncrossed my arms long enough to punch his shoulder. "Ha ha. Now my ego hurts."

The doors whooshed open and the elevator deposited us on the ground floor. I turned my key in, feeling a ball of tension tighten in my chest. It wasn't that I hadn't given my plan any thought—to the contrary, I'd been too distracted with figuring out what I was going to do to pay much attention to anything else.

What set my nerves on edge was the fact that I didn't know when I'd be back. If I'd be back.

I took a moment to compose myself, forcing my face into a mask of calmness, before turning back to Jack. I hadn't told him about Kane's note. He didn't know. And neither did Bard, for that matter. If they had, between the two of them, I doubted I would've ever made it out of the apartment.

"I'll pull the car around," Jack said.

"Okay. Li should be here any minute."

As Jack walked away, disappearing around the corner of the building, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my list of contacts. Mostly I just wanted something to occupy my hands so I wouldn't stand there wringing them. But I bit my lip and quickly dropped the phone into my bag when Restricted Number scrolled across the screen.

Bard sat down and stared at me, unblinking. Had he not been so close to eye-level, I might have been able to ignore his curiosity. I retreated from it instead, backing up against the side of the building and tilting my head back against the wall.

Blue sky seared my vision, framed by the gray tops of high-rises and other buildings. Maybe it was the way I was standing, head craned back and eyes staring skyward, that made me think of the stars. The street wasn't as quiet as the rooftop; blocking out the sounds of people and traffic was impossible. Claustrophobic wasn't the right adjective to describe the way the press of noise and activity made me feel, but it was close enough. Before the Gates appeared, thinking about the stars still being up there, temporarily outshone by the sun and hidden behind a screen of blue, might have been comforting. Now I just wondered if the real stars were still up there at all, hidden behind another veil.

"Charlotte?"

I snapped to attention at Li's voice. He was just walking up, hands stuffed into the pockets of his green jacket. The bright afterimage of the sky floated around him like a halo. "Hey. Sorry. Guess I spaced out for a minute…"

He raised a hand to shield his eyes and looked up to see what I'd been staring at. "A little early for stargazing, isn't it?"

"Wishful thinking," I said. "It's weird, but the sun's just going down back home. The stars are coming out."

"You sound a little homesick."

I shrugged and looked at him, at the easy understanding in his eyes, and found myself talking. "Would you believe I haven't been home for almost five years?"

"Why so long?"

"I've been travelling. Everywhere."

He canted his head to the side, a teasing smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. "Doing your shady freelance thing?"

"Something like that," I laughed, but I couldn't sustain my amusement. "I've been looking for something, too."

"What?" When I hesitated, Li's brow furrowed and he glanced up at the apartment building. "Jack?"

"No," I said, some of my levity coming back. My eyes dropped to my hands, watching as I wound Bard's leash through my fingers. "Not Jack. Just something I've needed to do for a long time."

"And you've found it here? In Tokyo?"

"I think so."

Li smiled warmly. "Then I'm happy for you."

I felt my face flush red with embarrassment. Talking. Too much talking. He made it so easy, and all of my thoughts about impending demise weren't helping. "Anyway. Thanks for watching him," I said, smiling self-consciously as I handed over Bard's leash. "I thought about trying to convince the police he's a service dog, but…" I shrugged.

Li laughed. "Didn't see that going so well?"

"Nope."

As if to agree, Bard stood up and grumbled his way from my side to Li's. It caught two stiff-looking businessmen off-guard as they passed, sending the first sidestepping into the street in front of a red sports car. The second man yanked him back onto the sidewalk as the car braked—like a slow motion, near-catastrophe scene out of a bad movie.

"Ah, gomen!" Li called after them as they hurried away.

I tried to muster a polite grimace of apology, but I'd spotted Jack sitting behind the wheel of the car, one hand covering his eyes while he shook his head, and I couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. "This is off to a good start."

"Should be an interesting day," Li agreed. He smiled, but his blue eyes were wide, like he wasn't sure what he'd gotten himself into.

"He'll be good. Probably."

Bard stared up at me through his fuzzy eyebrows.

"He knows sit, down, heel, and don't eat that, so…"

"I think that covers all the bases."

"Yeah." I took a step back, motioning at Jack waiting in the car. "I've got to get going, but thanks a lot for doing this. I'll call you later and come get him."

"Charlotte, wait."

I turned around when Li took my arm. His expression had changed to something more serious. He wanted to say something, but hesitated.

"What?"

With a short sigh, he let go of my arm. "It's not my business, but… That Contractor." His eyes tightened, reflecting the note of concern in his lowered voice. "You're not going to meet him tonight, are you?"

Bard shot to his feet, this time startling Li with the rumbling growl he directed at me.

I put on my best of course not face and shook my head, hoping it was enough to conceal my internal panic. "Bard, sit. It's all right."

When he didn't sit, I looked at Li and said, "No. I'm not going."

I wanted to believe Bard's reaction was the reason for Li's uneasy frown, but the way he nodded, as if conceding a loss, made me think he suspected a lie.

I forced myself to hold my expression like everything was fine.

The electric whir of a window rolling down sounded behind me, followed by Jack's voice. "Charlie?"

"Just a minute."

Li glanced past me at the car, his eyes darkening. "Just… be safe, all right?"

"Yeah." I nodded stiffly, unsure if I'd just confessed to the lie. Li didn't say anything else, and I reached down to give Bard a head-scratch goodbye. "Be good," I said. "I'll see you later, Li."

Li lifted his hand in a wave and turned away. Bard followed after him, but not before shooting me a suspicious glare. Idly, I wondered if Li was the type to talk to animals—maybe Bard would get the whole story and then some by the time I picked him up. I figured I'd be able to tell by how grumpy he was.

Jack's probing gaze followed me as I got into the car and shut the door. I did my best not to look at him, busying myself with my seatbelt instead.

"Everything all right?" he asked. It sounded perfunctory, like he was asking even though he knew something wasn't quite right. "Bard didn't look too happy with you."

"He's fine. Everything's fine." Figuring I'd look like a liar if I didn't do something, I turned to him and smiled. "How long's the drive?"

He didn't smile back—not immediately. Little lines formed around his eyes as they narrowed at me. "Not long." Before he looked away, the corners of his mouth jerked upwards in a parody of a smile. The car's engine rumbled as he shifted gears and pulled into traffic. I pursed my lips and looked out the window.

I felt like I needed to say something—like I needed to make the situation feel normal. "Did you ever remember if you know Li from somewhere?" I asked.

"No," Jack sighed. "Just seems familiar somehow."

"Seems like he remembers you somehow, too."

"What makes you say that?"

"The mutual death glares."

"Ha. I don't have a death glare."

I turned away from the window to stare at him. After a few seconds, he glanced at me sidelong and rolled his eyes.

"You freeze people out. Literally. The other day, it felt like the AC exploded."

"Oh," he laughed. "You noticed that?" Before I could answer, he waved a hand in dismissal and moved on. "That's beside the point anyway. I probably don't know him from anywhere. Some people just look familiar for no reason."

"All right," I conceded, turning back to the window.

"Charlie?"

"Yeah?"

When he didn't say anything, I glanced over at him. But he was looking away. "Nothing," he said. "Never mind."

We met Misaki Kirihara in the lobby of the Tokyo Medical University Hospital. She was wearing a suit. Luckily, I didn't have much time to stress over whether or not I'd underdressed, because Jack decided to introduce me with Doctor in front of my name.

"Charlotte's fine," I quickly corrected. "Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too," Misaki said, the lenses in her glasses flashing as we shook hands. "Jack's had nothing but good things to say about you. Maybe you can make a dent in this case."

"What is the case, exactly?"

Misaki handed me an inch-thick file with Classified stamped across the front. Naturally, it piqued my interest, and I flipped the file open to the first page. Three names were listed across the top: Rachel Bailey, Nathaniel Clarke, and Robert Martin.

Two things registered, but with different degrees of surprise: First, I would be dealing with people; second, they were English.

"Are these…?" I raised my eyebrows and looked at Jack. He nodded in answer. MI-6 agents.

"Come with me," Misaki said. "I'll explain on the way."

She led us to a narrow hallway, and then to a small service elevator. Once we'd gotten in and the doors closed, she said, "The names are those of three MI-6 agents. Two of them are dead. The third is here, in a secure ward."

"What happened to them?"

"They were a team," Jack said.

I turned to peer at him, my suspicions confirmed by the take a wild guess look he gave me.

"Two Contractors and a Doll," I said. "Who survived?"

"Nathaniel Clarke. One of the Contractors." Misaki cleared her throat and looked up at the electrical panel, where the numbers were slowly ascending as the elevator hauled us upward. "They were attempting to apprehend a third Contractor. DT-812. But things went sideways, and DT-812 used her power on all three of them."

With the way I suddenly felt short of breath, I felt like I'd just gotten hit in the chest. Ice shot down my spine, and it had nothing to do with Jack's hand on my arm.

"How, um…" I cleared my throat. "How did they die?"

"The Doll, Robert Martin, was pronounced dead at the scene. No obvious wounds, and the autopsy didn't reveal a cause of death. Rachel Bailey died here, twenty-four hours after the altercation. Same story with her autopsy—no COD. I understand the lab has saved blood and tissue samples from both of the deceased agents."

I nodded distractedly. "That'll be helpful. What about Clarke?"

Jack gave my arm a reassuring squeeze before letting his hand drop. "He's been turned into a bit of a pincushion," he said.

Misaki hummed in agreement. "His condition is deteriorating. It's been more than two weeks since the attack. Physically, he's fine, except for a few cosmetic injuries. All of his symptoms are neurological, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong."

"You said DT-812 used her power on them?" I hedged. "Do you know what it is?"

"She apparently has the ability to transform water into a poison that destroys one of the senses. We weren't able to determine which of the senses Martin and Bailey lost, since Martin was dead, and Bailey never regained consciousness."

"Which of the senses did Clarke lose?"

Misaki turned to me with a serious frown, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "No one's sure. There are a few theories, but I'd prefer to let you form your own without prejudice."

"All right." I nodded and bit my lip. "What about DT-812's remuneration? Could it have something to do with the Doll's death?"

"We aren't sure she has one."

"Is that even possible?"

"Yes. There's at least one other Contractor we're aware of that doesn't have a price—as far as anyone can tell."

"And who's that?"

"The Black Reaper. BK-201."

Head sufficiently spinning, I followed Misaki off the elevator in a daze. Thankfully, her explanation of the case stopped there, giving me some time to regroup. We had to take a detour through the administration office long enough for me to have a clip-on ID made and to put on a lab coat.

Putting on the coat was a strange feeling. Of the two of us, Jack was the only one with an MD—but I didn't think that was something he'd shared with the Japanese Police. And if he'd known all along about Hemlock's connection to this case—and I suspected he had—then he'd done me a favor by keeping his own merits a secret and calling me in as a 'consultant.'

I tucked the file under my arm and tried to walk like I wore a white coat on a regular basis, like I didn't feel out of place, or like my semi-legal freelancing hadn't just landed me under the supervision of a foreign government.

Misaki flashed her badge at the two officers standing guard outside Clarke's hospital room and opened the door. A blast of cold air washed over us, filling the hallway with the smell of soap and sterility. The square, white room was empty of people except for the body in the bed. Nathaniel Clark lay amidst an array of blocky, beeping, whirring machines.

He had a hawkish look to him, sharpened by his dark hair and his dark, analytical eyes. What Misaki had said about him being physically fine seemed to be true, aside from a long, rectangular bandage taped across the top of his left forearm. The only thing about him that struck me were the electrodes pasted to his head.

"Chief Kirihara," he said, his voice hoarse. Probably from lack of use. I didn't think it was odd when he nodded to Jack—I figured they'd met before. But then Clarke looked at me and said, "Doctor Sterne. You got the stain out of your coat."

Bard missed his sense of smell. However, in a room full of cigarettes, he found he missed it considerably less. He had come to associate smoke with the man who smelled of winter—this was not the reason he disliked the smell. He disliked the smell because of dimethylnitrosamine and quinoline and the other chemicals he couldn't remember. But they all seemed to be very bad.

"That is a dog," the silver-haired girl said as the closed and shuttered the purchase window at the front of the tiny shop. Bard did not know what she smelled like. Tobacco, maybe. But she had not made a horse joke, and, for that, he liked her.

"Yes," said the man who smelled faintly of ozone. Bard remembered him from the airport. Li.

"What's with the dog?" It was another man's voice, but when Bard looked into the far corner of the cigarette shop, where the man should have been, he saw only the Gate Cat. Bard stood up, his tail curled over his haunches, but neither Li nor the girl seemed alarmed by the talking cat.

"Sit."

Bard sat. He looked at Li, trying to ask questions with his eyes. But Li only looked back; he did not understand like Charlie understood.

"I told Charlotte I'd watch him," said Li.

"I didn't realize you even liked dogs."

Bard looked at the cat. How? he wanted to ask. How do you speak? How do I learn?

"I don't like cats much better."

The bell on the cat's red collar jingled when the cat stood up and crossed the room. "Love you too, Hei. But shouldn't you be tailing her right now?"

Tailing. Bard knew the word. Following, watching. He did not understand why Li should have been tailing Charlie. He wondered if it was for the same reason Bard wanted to be with Charlie.

"Yin, is she still with November 11?"

Bard's attention snapped into focus. Concentrating hard, he tried to remember if he had heard Charlie use Jack's code name in front of Li. What reason would he have to know?

"Yes," said the girl, Yin.

Bard did not look away from Li. His expression had changed after leaving Charlie—these were the things Bard noticed about humans. Their changes. Tone, posture, expression. Li's shift from easy-going to weary and pensive had not escaped Bard's observation.

Why? he would have asked. Why do you feel this way? What are we in this place?

"She's with that MI-6 agent? Isn't that a bad thing?" The cat sat down, the tip of its tail twitching.

Bard did not move, but he thought about it. They knew November worked for MI-6. This was bad, Bard knew, but there was no action he could take to fix it. Charlie had stopped him from snapping at the cat before. Charlie was not here now, but Li was, and Bard did not know how hurt Li would be if he attacked the Gate Cat. He was melancholy enough already.

But then Li glared at the cat, and Bard thought he would not be so hurt after all.

Begrudgingly, Li murmured, "She's safe with him. Just keep an eye on her, Yin."

"Yes."

"Mao, check the dog."

Bard pinned his ears; he did not like the way that sounded.

"What do you mean check the dog?" the cat demanded. "You think he's got a passenger?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

Intrigued, Bard lifted an ear in Li's direction. So he had noticed after all—

"All right." The cat's eyes glowed red, and then Bard lost control of his ears and everything else attached to his body. The sensation lasted only a few seconds before it abruptly evaporated. He sat, disoriented, while his legs tingled with pins and needles. "Roomy," said the Gate Cat. "No one in there except the dog, though."

Li leaned against one of the vertical shelf-supports along the back wall and slid down to the floor, resting his arms across the tops of his knees. Bard slinked across the room and sat next to Li, tail tucked between his legs as he eyeballed the cat. Li tried to swat him away, but Bard did not care. He flashed his titanium teeth and tucked his face behind Li's shoulder.

The cat laughed and asked a moment later, "Any progress? Have you learned anything?"

"She's made contact," Li said. "If not with DT-812, then with someone close to her. Mao—"

"What is it?"

"Are you sure she didn't see my face?"

Bard's ears went up, but he did not come out of his hiding place. The cat made an affirmative, grunting sound. "I watched her the whole time. She didn't look under your mask."

Bard felt Li shake his head. "Why wouldn't she?"

"Who knows? And what does it matter? The important thing is she didn't see your face."

The single door at the back of the shop creaked open; Bard peaked over Li at the squat, unpleasant-looking man who entered. When he noticed Bard's curious stare, he paused in the doorway. In a voice that sounded like he had gargled with nails, he said, "Isn't that the target's guard monster?"

The cat's bell jingled. "Hei is watching him for her."

Hei. Mao. Yin. Bard had to remember all of these names and tell Charlie.

"How nice," said the new man. "I hope you got some information out of it."

"She's going to meet another Contractor tonight. DT-812 might be there."

Bard's muscles went rigid.

"What does Sterne want with her?"

"I don't know yet."

"Well, the important thing is that you get to her first. If Sterne gets in the way, take her out."

Li nodded.

"You're not the first."

I thought Misaki was probably trying to make the situation seem less strange than it really was, but learning Clarke had explicably known the names of other people he'd never met only made the whole thing even stranger. I'd gone in expecting blindness, deafness, disorientation—not telepathy. Or whatever it was Hemlock had done to him.

"So he knew both of you?" I asked, looking between Jack and Misaki as we walked down the wide, colorless hallway.

Misaki nodded stiffly.

Jack shook his head. "We'd met before, so he remembered. Might have been more interesting if he hadn't."

"I just can't figure out which sense DT-812 went after. It does seem neurological, but it extends beyond the basic senses."

"You mean sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch," Misaki said. "Are there others?"

"Several. Even those five can be broken down into subcategories," Jack explained. "The ability to distinguish light and color, for instance."

"There are other senses, too. Sensitivity to pain and temperature, mechanoreception, interoception, and exteroception. There's some overlap, but they're still worth looking in to."

Misaki raised her eyebrows. "Right… And DT-812 could destroy those senses, too?"

"I don't know. I suppose it's possible." Possible, yes, but it wasn't something I'd considered before. "Is a copy of all your info on her in here?" I asked, hefting the bulky file she'd given me earlier.

"Everything we know. Doesn't include a name, unfortunately."

I stole a glance at Jack as Misaki flashed her badge at another pair of guards. It seemed nearly every room and major hallway on the floor was under watch. Her? I mouthed at him. One word did nothing for context, but asking did you get Hemlock's messier code from Misaki where any number of armed guards might see felt like a bad idea.

Jack winked in answer, then nodded towards something in front of me. I turned to look and found we'd come up on the lab. The blinds on the double-paned windows were slanted open just enough to provide a partial view of the assortment of equipment inside. Along with two men in lab coats.

"Well. This is where I leave you," Misaki said, gesturing at the laboratory door. "Doctors Pierce and Yamada have been working on the case. They'll get you up to speed. If you need an assistant, that can be arranged, too."

We shook hands one last time. I was just opening the door to the lab when I heard her ask Jack if he had a minute.

The two scientists inside the lab noticed me immediately. One of them—I assumed Doctor Yamada, who seemed to be Japanese—had his gloved hands tucked under a hood, where he was filling an assortment of vials and beakers. He tilted his head at me and went right back to work. The other scientist, Pierce, was more enthusiastic about his welcome. His hair was bright red and curly, and there was a flush to his cheeks as if he were too warm. A small wonder—I could see a turtleneck poking out from under his lab coat.

"You must be Charlotte Sterne!" He pulled off his gloves and crossed the room in three enormous strides. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Thomas Pierce. That's Jun Yamada," he said, jerking his thumb in his colleague's direction. "Not a big talker."

I put on a polite smile. "I see. Nice to meet you. Where should I…?"

"Pick any workstation you want. All of the samples are in that fridge over there. Did Chief Kirihara brief you on the case?"

"Yes. She, uh…" I held up the file. "She gave me this, actually."

"Perfect. I've got one for you, too."

Surprised—and not all that enthusiastic at the prospect of being handed more paperwork to muddle through—I took the folder of loose paper Pierce retrieved from his desk when he held it out to me.

"It's all of our findings so far. Might help you pick a starting point."

"Thanks. I'll start reading it." It wasn't as thick as Misaki's file, but I had a feeling I'd be spending more time studying the lab results than anything else. "You mind if I get a few samples ready for later?"

"Go ahead."

I offered up another smile before setting my files down and pulling out a pair of gloves from a dispenser on the wall.

"Ah. Lab accident?"

I glanced over my shoulder and raised my eyebrows.

"Sorry," Pierce said, spreading his hands. A little jolt of anxiety ran through me when he pointed at the side of his face. "Your scar. Looks like an acid burn."

"Oh." The gloves made sharp, snapping sounds as I adjusted them on my fingers. "Yeah, it is."

"I've got one on my hand." Pierce lifted the edge of one of his gloves to show me the splotchy scar extending across the back of his hand to his wrist. It looked familiar, and not in a good way. "Sulfuric," he said. "What flavor's yours?"

"Not sure. Probably sulfuric, too." I walked the short distance to the fridge and reached inside to pull out Clarke's blood sample. "Someone threw it at me."

I didn't turn around to see Pierce's expression, but the few seconds of stunned silence that followed my admission was enough for me to hazard a guess at what his face looked like. "Wow. I'm, uh…" He cleared his throat. "That really sucks."

"Yeah." I shrugged, frowning at the nearly empty vial of blood. "Could have been worse."

"Right. Sorry. Uh, I suppose I should show you around."

"That's okay." I put the sample back and turned around. "Just show me where the centrifuge is. I'm going to go get a new sample from Clarke."

"It's on the other side of that partition." Pierce pointed across the room. "I was told you're a toxicology specialist. Thought you'd be with MI-6."

"Just helping them out," I said.

"You must be in good with one of the higher ups," Pierce said. He sat down on a wheeled stool and kicked himself towards his workstation. "We don't usually bring in outsiders. Talented or not."

He was smiling, but I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be an insult or a compliment. The only thing I could think to say was, "I'll do my best." Then I quickly grabbed a needle and an infusion set. And left.

I tried to put the whole thing out of my mind. I wanted to focus on Clarke—find out what he knew about Hemlock. It was my bad luck that he seemed to have gone mute when I returned to his room. The guards only glanced at my nametag before granting me access; Clarke didn't turn at the sound of the door opening. He was staring out the window.

"Nathaniel?"

No reaction. I walked to his bedside, thinking proximity might make him register my presence, but he gave no indication that he was aware of me. His eyes were focused, his brow slightly furrowed as if in concentration. I used my hand to shield his eyes from the light for a few seconds before pulling back and watching his pupils contract. Normal.

I sat down and pulled his arm towards me. "Nathaniel, I'm going to take a blood sample now."

Still no reaction.

I went through with the procedure, waiting for him to say something, but he never did. So, for almost ten minutes after, I sat in the chair next to his bed just to see what would happen.

All of his attention was on the window. I toyed with the idea that he was having some kind of seizure, but it didn't quite fit. His pupils were reactionary and there were no muscle contractions. He just wasn't there.

Vials of blood in hand, I stood up to return to the lab.

Jack was standing in the hallway with two Styrofoam cups of coffee. "No dice?"

"No. Seems like he's out for the moment." I shook my head. "Let me drop these off. I'll be right back."

I hurried to the lab and quietly slipped in, waving at Pierce's head-nod. Yamada didn't notice. I put the vials in the centrifuge and turned it on, filling the room with a quiet hum. It would take the machine at least fifteen minutes to finish fractionating the blood. I grabbed my files of paperwork before leaving again.

"Is there anywhere we can go without being watched?" I asked when I took one of the steaming cups from Jack.

"Sure. Come on."

We didn't speak again until we were inside a very large, very empty conference room. The lights were off, but the room was bright with sunlight streaming in the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the east wall. A pristine whiteboard covered the opposite wall, and a long, wooden table dominated the floor space. Of more than a dozen chairs, we chose the two farthest away from the door and sat down.

"What do you think so far?" Jack asked.

"I do not miss awkward lab interactions. Pierce asked about my scar." I gripped the Styrofoam cup in both hands and let out a long breath. "They don't know about my connection to her, do they?"

Jack's shoulders stiffened. "No. And as long as they don't know her name, they won't."

Reassured, I set my coffee aside and flipped open Misaki's file. "They have anything on her we don't?"

"Nothing."

I nodded, sighing as I thumbed through seemingly endless pages of notes and reports about Bailey, Martin, and Clarke; their attempt to apprehend DT-812; the unspectacular results of the two autopsies; the theories the other scientists had come up with to explain Clarke's affliction; all the information they had on DT-812.

"So MI-6 has been looking for her. And now the Japanese Police are looking for her, too. She's gotten popular."

"The organizations find her ability intriguing."

"Was MI-6 trying to recruit her?"

Jack frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. They wanted to capture her, but that could mean the same thing. If they found her ability useful, it's logical that they'd try to utilize it."

"So it's a race now." I closed the file and looked up at him. The way the sunlight hit his eyes made them seem to glow. "I have to get to her first."

"We," Jack corrected. "We have to get to her first."

I pursed my lips and looked away.

After Jack left, I returned to the lab just long enough to move Clarke's new blood samples from the centrifuge to the fridge. Then I went back to the conference room to study the pages and pages of information I'd need to review before starting any experiments of my own. That was how my day went. Hour upon hour of reading and deciphering text, putting the story together, analyzing test results, figuring out what Hemlock could have done to Clarke and his teammates.

I explained all of this to Jack when he called at eleven that night, wondering if I was still picking through the files. I was. But, an hour earlier, I'd started studying something else, too.

A map.

I'd picked out the shortest route from the hospital to the address Kane had written down in his note. A web search had revealed it was a recently foreclosed warehouse on the edge of Shinjuku. I was going to leave the hospital at eleven-thirty to find it. I told Jack I still had a lot of reading to do and probably wouldn't get back till sometime after midnight.

Something in his voice made me hesitate. I thought back to our conversation in the car, to the way it had ended, and felt the two were connected. But I didn't know how, and I didn't know how to ask what was wrong. So I went through with the lie and ended the call feeling like I'd left too much unsaid.

I still hadn't finished going over Pierce and Yamada's test results when I gathered up all the papers and stuffed them back into their files. But it was time for me to leave.

For most of the day, Bard had been concentrating on acting like a normal dog. He was pretending to be asleep when the silver-haired girl spoke for the first time in hours.

"She's moving."

Without a word, Li stood up and left.

I'd given myself more time than necessary to find the warehouse. It wasn't as close to the Wall as the one where I'd first met Kane, but that wasn't to say it was in a better location. The area around the Wall had the advantage of being abandoned. Here, on the outskirts of Shinjuku, people lingered in the shadows. I averted my eyes, kept my head down, and walked quickly, always keeping my hand on one of my guns.

I wasn't expecting to find the warehouse so quickly. The map I'd printed out and memorized had seemed much more complicated than the path I'd taken, but I knew this had to be the right one.

Two wolfhounds paced outside the entrance, hulking shadows under a flickering streetlight. When they alerted to my approach and barked a warning, a third shadow, this one human, walked out of the warehouse and stood under the light.

"You're early. How prudent of you."

"Is she here?" I stopped twenty feet away, hands shoved into my pockets like I was cold.

"She's here."

My heart leaped into a sprint; my chest tightened and, for a second, I couldn't breathe. She's here. She's here. I gritted my teeth and hoped I could trust my voice. "Prove it."

"Gladly," he said. "Hand over your weapon first."

"You're dreaming."

Kane tilted his head to the side as if he found me amusing. When one of the dogs growled, he swatted both of them away. They retreated through the half-open door and disappeared. For an uncomfortably long time, Kane and I stared at each other. He broke first.

"I don't have my katana."

"Good to know. But I still want to see her."

"Let's see that gun."

Scowling, I pulled the modified twenty-two from the waistband of my jeans and locked the slide back. When Kane motioned for me to approach, I did. Slowly. My eyes darted between him and the door. A rectangle of light shimmered on the ground, but I couldn't see far inside the warehouse.

When Kane and I were no more than five feet apart, I stopped and waited. Noticeably absent his hakama and haori, some of his bulk had evaporated, but he still towered over me. My hackles rose at the predatory gleam in his black eyes.

He reached behind him and gave the door a push. Like drawing back a stage curtain, it revealed a large, brightly lit room with a concrete floor and cinderblock walls. I saw the dogs first, one sitting on her right, the other standing on her left. Her gray, delicate hands on their heads. Her swamp-green eyes glimmered over a familiar, saccharine smile. Her hair, lighter than I remembered, fell straight to her shoulders. Like a veil.

Transparent. That was the word I thought of. She looked transparent under the lights, like a ghost.

Kane's hand closed around the stock of the twenty-two. I let him take it. I was already pulling my revolver free with my other hand. Before he knew what was happening, I shoved the barrel under his chin and pulled the trigger.

A/N: Holy cliffhanger, Batman!

So, I definitely went out on a limb by venturing into Bard's POV in this chapter. I'm planning to have other chapters like this one—unless it didn't work and nobody likes it. I just felt like I needed to shed some light on what's going on with Hei's team while Charlie is off attempting science. Please let me know your thoughts!

Look for the next update mid-December. I've got final papers and exams coming up, so Charlie and the gang won't be getting much attention till that mess is over with.

In addition to the upcoming chapter, be on the lookout for a holiday surprise! :)