Flesh Circus (2009)
“Once the sun heaved itself up over the rim of the world, I let out a half-conscious sigh of relief. My pager stayed quiet, and—true to my guess—Galina had spent all night with not only her own diaries but the records of the Sanctuary before her. Huge leather-bound books, each cover stamped with the seal of the Order, stood in stacks on her butcher-block table.
She was covered in dust, her hair held back with a red kerchief, and as ill-tempered as I’d ever seen her. Which was still pretty damn polite.
“Lorelei’s dead?” A line etched itself between her winged eyebrows. She swiped at a smudge on her cheek. “And zombies at Zamba’s?
Christ. Try saying that ten times in a row.”
“Tell me about it. No, wait. Never mind. Tell me about the problem Sloane had with the Cirque.” I folded my arms and leaned against the wall. Saul was fiddling with the kettle and her stove. Gray dawn filtered through the skylight and the big box window, touching his shorn hair and wide shoulders.
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