His old enemy might relish the upcoming confrontation and all the bloody collateral damage it would doubtless involve before one of them emerged a victor, but Mencheres would end this before it started. It rather pleased him to imagine the frustration Radjedef would feel at being denied the opportunity to implement his elaborate plans for vengeance.

So when the six ghouls pulled out their silver knives, smiling in that cruel, anticipatory way, Mencheres simply stood there. This would get bloody, but he was no stranger to blood. Or to pain. Both had been his companions for far longer than these ghouls could even imagine.

He cast one look at the predawn sky, wondering briefly if the sun shone in the afterlife. Before the sun was high, either he or the ghouls would find out.

K ira walked down Ashland Avenue, the second-to-last street before hers. A sudden breeze blew her hair into her eyes. They didn’t call Chicago the Windy City for nothing. She pushed stray pieces back behind her ears and shifted her heavy backpack onto her other shoulder. After all the times she’d toted her backpack to and from work, Kira would have thought it wouldn’t feel as heavy as it did. Still, she was lucky her boss allowed her to use the company car on stakeouts, and besides, many people who lived and worked in the West Loop didn’t own cars. They just didn’t have to carry around the various cameras, camcorders, binoculars, and other necessary stakeout items that she did.

At least it had been a productive night. Her surveillance of her client’s cheating wife finally paid off in the version of several incriminating photos that Kira dropped off at her office before she’d taken the Green Line back to her neighborhood. She could sleep in as late as she wanted to today, and even her exacting boss wouldn’t have a thing to say about it.

Being a private investigator meant tuning in to her surroundings, which came naturally to Kira, but her focus sharpened even more when she rounded the next corner.