We rounded a corner near the club and another of Thruor’s sisters, black hair streaming behind her, pulled in next to us. “I hear we have a manhunt.”

“Three cops. The cops are out looking too,” Thruor explained. “It’s probably mundane, but…”

I forced myself to relax as we swung by the community center. “Kanesha!” I called.

She emerged, and turned pale at seeing not one valkyrie, but two, and quickly headed to the other bike. “What’s wrong?”

“Mike’s MIA. So’s Warwick. And a woman cop who was with them.”

“Crap.”

That was eloquent but accurate. “Kara, Kanesha, you head into Southeast,” Thruor noted. “You won’t stand out as much there as we would.”

I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of splitting up, but she was right. We needed to cover more ground.

Kara nodded and peeled off, the bike roaring away with the person I cared about the most on the back of it. Mike, though? He was on the list.

And he was on Kanesha’s list too. We’d find him. We’d get him back. Thruor turned vaguely north. “Don’t suppose that fyrhund’s still around?”

I shook my head. “No. It disappeared when I stopped working at a place with an oven.”

She laughed. “Fyrhunds. They have their priorities. Like most dogs, to be honest.”

I grinned. “Nothing wrong with dogs. But the cops probably have dogs hunting. And if it’s the mob, it doesn’t really matter who finds them first.”

“I don’t know. These are DC cops. But one of the sisters is sitting by a police scanner. If they find them and need help…”

I relaxed more at that. “Good.” The sisters. I wondered how many there actually were. What they were all like. I envied their cameraderie.

I thought it wouldn’t be a bad life, but…no. Had to focus. Had to focus on finding Mike. Finding him was the only thing that mattered right now.

“Talking of…oh crap. They found the Sanchez woman.”

“Dead?”

“Yes. I’m taking us there right now.”

If Sanchez was dead that didn’t bode well for Mike or Warwick. I didn’t really want Warwick to die either. He seemed like a decent enough guy.

Thruor had turned south towards the Navy Yard and was gunning the bike with small regard for little things like traffic law.

All I could do was cling to the bitch seat and trust that this bike would not, could not wreck.