Three days later, there was another strange person at the hospital. Lifen was happy to complain about the new visitor, and once again, Tafari found himself looking for a stranger in the hospital that most of the world seemed to have forgotten.

This person, however, was nothing like Philipe.

Tafari found this new stranger sitting at Kurt’s bedside, and had a moment of shock at first sight. This stranger’s crest marked xer as a Swan, but Tafari only barely registered that as he took in what was possibly the most beautiful human being he had ever met in his life.

Xie was smiling down at Kurt as they talked quietly together, a smile that was galaxies opposite of Philippe’s. There was nothing about that smile to evoke suspicion, only a genuine warmth as Kurt talked about flying in darkspace, both the thrill and horror of it.

Neither of them had noticed him yet, so Tafari could continue to take in the stranger. Note how every movement of xer lean body was graceful—even when all xie was doing was shifting in xer chair. Long hair flowed down xer back, shiny and sleek and perfectly arranged. Xer clothes were soft and loose, but in a way that accentuated xer body, rather than hiding it. This physical perfection, this was what the Swan were known for, but it was always a little disorienting to see in person. All together, xie was striking, and Tafari was having a hard time looking away.

Which was why he was still staring when xie finally looked up and saw him. Xie straightened and that lovely smile fell away. “May I help you?”

Xer voice, too, was beautiful, cultured and smooth. Which almost distracted Tafari from the fact that he was the one who should be asking that question.

Kurt spoke up. “Oh that’s just Tafari. He makes the rounds here, talks to us.”

At that, xer eyes sharpened. “You’re here frequently then?”

How had this become an interrogation of him? “I am.”

His terse answer didn’t seem to discourage xer. “Were you here…” xie consulted the small tablet in xer hand, “three days ago?”

“I was.”

Xie stood, excused xerself from Kurt, and approached Tafari. Xie held up xer tablet so he could see the face on it. “Did you happen to see this man?”

Philippe. The face on the tablet was unmistakable. “Who are you?”

Xer exasperated sigh clearly communicated xie had no time for his questions. “I’m Clan Marshal Kosuri Valentin, and this man is wanted for questioning.”

“Questioning for what?”

“None of your business.”

Up close, Valentin was even more distractingly gorgeous. It occurred to Tafari he hadn’t gotten laid in a long, long time. Until just now, that hadn’t bothered him.

That was an annoyance, though. Something he could think about later. There were more urgent issues. Like, “Has he committed some crime?”

“Sur Kieta,” Xer words were polite; xer tone, however, communicated a mix of impatience and exasperation. “The sooner you answer me, the sooner I can go on about my work.”

Much as he wanted to, Tafari couldn’t come up with a good reason not to answer this prickly, demanding, off-world marshal. “He was here, yes. Talking to our patients, same as you seem to be doing. I spoke with him briefly, then followed him through the day to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.”

“Good.” Valentin shifted to a note-taking screen on xer tablet. “Tell me what questions he was asking.”

“I will. But only if you’ll tell me why you’re after him.”

Valentin’s glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “And why would I do that?”

Two paths stretched before Tafari. The first was to answer Valentin’s questions, get out of Valentin’s way, and return to his quiet, tedious process of watching minutes flow into minute until it was time for him to find his own bed in this hospital. That was the smart path, the easy path. The path that let Tafari continue to pretend he’d forgotten all the choices and consequences that had brought him here.

The second path was to hunt. “You’ll tell me because it’s something I’ll need to know if we’re to work together.”

Valentin’s eyes narrowed further. “I believe you have mistaken my intent. I’m not asking for your help.”

Philippe had lied, had caused trouble to people Tafari considered friends, and that alone might have been enough to draw Tafari’s hunting instinct out of hiding. The worst thing, though, was that Philippe had awakened that part of himself that Tafari had wanted to kill. That suspicious, bitter, cynic that Tafari had worked so hard to put to bed, Philippe had drawn back to the surface, and now it seemed that Tafari should have listened to that self after all.

For that, Philippe owed Tafari an explanation. “You have my help. A gift. You didn’t even have to ask.”

“No,” Valentin said firmly.

Tafari responded with his own smile. “I’m afraid you have no choice. As a Swan marshal, you have no authority here. You’re way out of your jurisdiction. If you want to continue your work on Cradle, you will need an official escort. I could take you to the nearest military outpost and you could start the paperwork that will request a minder—something that is likely to take a couple weeks as, you may have noticed, the Pack has been very occupied this Interval. Or you could accept my offer.” He paused meaningfully, then added, “Or I could have you arrested.”

“Excuse me? On whose authority?”

“Mine.” Tafari drew himself up straight. He had a few inches on Valentin, and he made the most of those to look down at xer. “You are addressing Lieutenant Colonel Keita Tafari of…” he had to grit his teeth around the next part, “clan internal affairs. You can have this conversation with me, or if you would prefer, we can take it up with Lord Faust.”

The last part was a bluff, but it was a calculated risk.

And it worked. “Very well,” Valentin snapped. “Just don’t get in my way.”

Tafari followed quietly, knowing he would do whatever needed to be done.