Julian's POV "You're quiet today," Vincent said. "That's not like you." We were in the back office above the warehouse on Ninth, the one with the windows painted black and the only camera feed that answered to me. I hadn't sat down since I'd walked in. I didn't sit down now. Outside, the city kept doing what it always did at this hour, indifferent to whatever had happened inside a prison forty minutes north of it. "How did the meeting go?" "The meeting went the way it needed to go." "That's not an answer." "It's the only one you're getting tonight." Vincent knew me well enough not to push on the things that didn't matter. He also knew me well enough to recognize when something did. He set down the folder he'd been holding and looked at me with the particular patience he reserved for conversations he'd already decided not to walk away from. "He asked exactly what I expected him to ask," I said. "He's smarter than the men I usually deal with. That's not new information." "Then
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