Getting trussed up was never fun, in Janni’s book, but it was the only way for someone to drag her anywhere against her will. This gang knew enough about what she was to realize that, but not enough to realize that rope wasn’t precisely sufficient for their long-term chances of keeping her contained.

“So what’s in it for you?” she asked the little grade-purple tweaker who was in charge of the group that had nabbed them. “You collect anyone nosing about, the maker promises to leave your people alone? Or is he the one who made you?”

Disgust roiled in enough of them that she could be sure that no, Puce (or whoever she was tracking) had not actually created the primes in this gang. But none of them lashed out at her or Samstag, either, which seemed odd in light of the overeager gunshot, earlier.

Come to think of it, she should’ve had more warning if the actual cause had been an overeager gangster, which meant it had been…what? A premeditated attempt to kill Samstag? An intentional test of her reactions and abilities?

“What do you want with us, anyway?” she asked, since they had neither gagged her nor demanded that she keep her mouth shut—nor seemed all that worried about being seen carrying two hostages through the neighborhood. Should’ve brought Kitten for backup, she thought ruefully, not that the Nameless girl would’ve been likely to consent to come.

In the very least, TamLin would’ve objected, and the memory of how he’d responded in the past when she’d infuriated him made her shiver.

Not that he was the type to unleash fists and feet on someone without some kind of legitimate justification, namely defense of self or others. ‘Defense’ also being why he’d been willing to enforce the Nameless laws on Kitten, so the girl’s brother wouldn’t have to do it. Main thing TamLin wouldn’t take responsible precautions to protect was his own psyche and person—but then, considering his masochistic streak, she supposed she couldn’t find that surprising.

“You talk too much,” the tweaker said.

“Is that supposed to be a request for me to stop? If so, you’re using the wrong words and verb tense.”

The woman slid a glance at Janni that reminded her how her mouth had gotten her electrocuted by Kitten’s sister, just a few days before—but the tweaker seemed more amused than annoyed.

While Janni was distracted with that, a blackout bag was slipped over her head—and the fabric was thick enough to block her vision and had psy-block webbing good enough to deafen her, so it wasn’t from this somewhen, either.

Janni really, really hoped she hadn’t walked into some trap of Puce’s.