I jotted them down—kept an eye on him—and continued on my search. It wasn’t hard. The internet made things all too public. The internet was the reason why we had been forced out into the open. The internet. YouTube. Idiots who couldn’t remember that territory disputes really needed to be settled privately. Nobody had publicized anything about the deaths of those girls, not their funerals or anything else. But even non-humankind had nosy sons-of-bitches and when you had nosy sons-of-bitches, there were those who’d think it was completely cool to dig into fresh wounds, all in the name of the public has the right to know. There was a blog, run by some offshoot that lived near the borderlands, an area I avoided with everything I had in me. I’d heard of him—went by the name of Cyclops, although I had no idea if the name had any real meaning. He did use a one-eyed monster as the icon for the blog. The blog was a news site and most of it, to his credit, was researched and it tended to focus on news about other offshoots, the Assembly, the witch houses, lower-ranking wolves and cats and happenings outside of East Orlando.
