And still, he did not release her. "Did you know that you are the oldest recruit the Strand has ever allowed to remain unburned?" he said, turning to the window with his tiny thimble of coffee. "You entire career has been scrutinized, your actions weighed more carefully than anyone else's. You were very nearly burned out twice, once when we found you, once in the middle of your training. But wiser heads held off because with all the anger, all the fear you have worked through, you never tried to hurt anyone."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that. But perhaps I should have been."

Walter turned, not a hint of a smile on him. "The elite kill, Grace. Jason kills. I killed." His expression hardened. "We are soldiers. Soldiers kill."

"You don't kill innocents," she whispered.

"Was Zach innocent?" he barked, and she jumped, making Hoc cower. "I say no. Don't confuse youth with innocence. You have balance. You have control. You will not be allowed to quit."

"Sir?"

"Look at your orders. Look at it!"

Nervous, Grace looked, her clenched jaw loosening. It still held the elite's stamp.

"Bright and early, Grace." Walter came forward from around the desk, his mood shifting completely. "Testing of the Strand's own never ends. Ever," he said as he put a hand on her shoulder. "And bring that dog with you. I still want to know how far you and he can go together."

"But I failed!" she exclaimed, not understanding.

He was smiling as he handed her that same tiny cup. "I don't see it that way. You know why you broke. You have determined that it should never happen again, taken steps to prevent it. That is a sign of maturity, not wanton disregard of life."

The paper in her hand drooped. "This is entry into the elite's fighting force. I'm a risk."

Walter took the paper before it fell, folding it in thirds. "We all are, Grace. The Strand is an illusion of fences and security so that those who can't throw may feel safe. We do the best we can by removing the ability from those who would clearly use it for ill gain. We shift the fate of those we reach with early education. But we are people, and people make choices. Make mistakes. Besides . . ." He handed the folded paper to her, and she took it. "Jason's team isn't the only one on the cobbles. If you curtail your relationship to one entirely outside of work, I don't know why your control should be suspect. As I recall, your balance was never compromised during the entire acquisition."

Grace blinked, remembering. No, her balance had never bobbled for even a microsecond. She had been in complete control, even as she had killed Zach.

Hope flashed through her. "Don't tell him why," she blurted, then flushed.

"Don't tell Jason that you love him?" Walter chuckled as he picked up her cap. "You don't think he already knows?"

Grace lifted her chin. "Don't tell him that I broke because of him. I can't . . ."

Her words cut off as Walter put a hand on her shoulder and led her to the door. "Love is strength, Grace. Don't come away from this learning the wrong lesson."

He handed her cover to her and opened the door. She went through it, desperate to make him understand. Jason waited for her at the end of the hall. She could see him in the sun, standing on the whitewashed boards, his dejection and anger clear in his stance. "Please," she begged Walter as Hoc trotted to the end of the hall to meet Jason. "Make something up-for both of us. His career and mine. I can either have a family or a career in the Strand. Not both. And I want this, sir. I want it bad enough to give everything."

Standing in the doorway to his office, Walter puffed and blew, thinking about it. "I'll tell him that Casten pulled strings and got you into his flight. You can go as far as you want under him."

Relief spilled into her, and she shook his hand, flushing in that she probably shouldn't have initiated the contact. "Thank you, sir. Thank you, very much."

The large man smiled, touching her shoulder as he gestured for her to go. "Thank you, Grace. But drop the sir. Call me Walter. It makes slogging through the muck easier."

"Yes, sir, I mean, Walter," she said, exuberant as she turned and strode down the hall. She was an elite. She was an elite, and the world was now clear. Her path chosen. She'd been given a gift and the chance to make a difference. If she let it fall to the side, everything she believed in, Boyd's sacrifice and Zach's death would be a lie.

Hoc bounced through the glass door as she opened it up. Jason waited beyond, mystified at her smile.

"What happened?" he said, and she gave him a hug, not caring that Walter was still standing at the end of the hall.

"I said yes," she breathed, then added, "But I'm not going to work with you. We're under Casten, and you watch. Hoc and I are going to head up our own division in three years." Smiling, she spun to the elevator, turning to look at him over her shoulder.

"Catch me if you can!"

Acknowledgments.

My grateful thanks to Erika Thompson who helped me keep my story straight.

About the Author.

New York Times bestselling author KIM HARRISON was born and raised in Michigan and has recently returned there to escape the South Carolina heat. Her bestselling Hollows novels include Dead Witch Walking; The Good, the Bad, and the Undead; Every Which Way But Dead; A Fistful of Charms; For a Few Demons More; The Outlaw Demon Wails; White Witch, Black Curse; Black Magic Sanction; Pale Demon; and A Perfect Blood. She also writes the bestselling Madison Avery series for young adults, including Once Dead, Twice Shy and Early to Death, Early to Rise.

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Also by Kim Harrison.

BOOKS OF THE HOLLOWS.

A Perfect Blood.

Pale Demon.

Black Magic Sanction.

White Witch, Black Curse.

The Outlaw Demon Wails.

For a Few Demons More.

A Fistful of Charms.

Every Which Way But Dead.

The Good, the Bad, and the Undead.

Dead Witch Walking.

AND DON'T MISS.

The Hollows Insider.

Unbound.

Something Deadly This Way Comes.

Early to Death, Early to Rise.

Once Dead, Twice Shy.

Holidays Are Hell.

Dates from Hell.

end.