Michael was back from the club within an hour. Money had bought memories. Of four men, members of a known street gang, and the part of town they claimed as their turf. He was puzzled, though. This wasn’t how the previous snatchings had been carried out against Serrin, or even Shakala in this same country. A gentle knock at Tom’s door told him the troll was still deep in reverie, trying to trace the elf. He was contemplating disturbing him, since he’d gotten his own trace of a kind, when Kristen suddenly burst out into the corridor.