10

SEATTLE

 

COLD GREEN SHIMMERED around me, clouds of sand and rising bubbles.

My mind flashed to Monterey Bay Aquarium as a kid, seeing the jellyfish on the other side of the glass as they opened, closed, opened, closed...but this time, glass and metal trapped me inside the tank and freezing cold water, instead of the other way around.

Still feeling dazed and only half-there, I grappled with the car door until fingers gripped my arm, causing me to turn. Once I did, I saw Revik through the green water, eyes open, his long fingers seemingly drained of blood. The knuckles of his other hand bled in red clouds and the window frame behind him bled upwards into the water from an odd-shaped smear, like watching a film happen in reverse.

No Barrier, he sent, so softly I barely heard him.

My mind, everything about me, remained oddly calm.

I squeezed his arm to let him know I understood.

I’ve always been able to see well in water.

Revik hit the locking mechanism of his seat belt clumsily, rising to thump up against the roof of the car as the belt slid off his chest. It was only then that I realized the car was still sinking. Blood swirled around us from his his head and hand. He pedaled his arms to reach me, grabbing for the strap of my own seatbelt, fumbling with the clasp and hitting the button to unlock it from around my body...which still hadn’t occurred to me for some reason.

He got it undone, then held me to keep me from rising too fast.

My body hurt...badly enough to bring the first real flickers of fear.

My limbs only half-cooperated as I jerkingly swam for the open driver’s side window at the prompting of his hands. I’d always been able to hold my breath under water for a long time, too. Jon would time me at the community pool when we were kids, taking bets...but now I was starting to worry about air. I had no idea how far down we were.

I pedaled through bubbles like a crippled dog, aiming my body at the window.

Shards of glass nicked my cheeks and arms...then grated on my leg until I jerked away from the edges of the window frame, emitting a garbled sound as I kicked my way through.

Then I was on the other side, in open water.

I watched the car roof and hood as the GTX sank below me.

Revik swam past me then and I felt his fingers tug my arm, pulling on me to follow.

Looking up, I glimpsed rays and sparkles of light through chunks of green plant matter, remembered anti-drowning training and followed the bubbles. The tugging on my arm grew less once I was swimming alongside him...until I saw clouds and patches of blue sky through a window of clear water. Then he pulled me roughly sideways, guiding me under the surface before I could reach the open air.

By the time he let me rise, I was panicking for real, fighting to pry off his fingers, and the sunlight was gone.

He didn’t let go until we breached the surface together, gasping.

Once I’d filled my lungs with air, choking out the water I’d inhaled, I looked up. We were under the bridge. Land lay a few hundred meters behind where I watched Revik tread water. I glanced at it, saw mostly greenery and rocks, then looked back at Revik himself, watching him gasp to regain his own breath. Massive cement pillars stood to either side of us, and the thundering sound of cars on the bridge overhead echoed over the water.

The sound touched a memory in me.

Something about it brought a wave of fear, and I shivered.

I was still staring up at the underside of the overpass, when Revik’s fingers circled my arm. I felt an apology there, but also fear, enough to take my breath. He looked different with his hair slicked back, and for an instant, I could only stare at his face. I almost didn’t recognize him with how pale he was, exaggerated by the wet hair and the blood on the side of his head.

Only his eyes and mouth looked the same.

“Don’t go into the Barrier.” He was having more trouble than me regaining his breath, and I watched him struggle to speak. “Not even a little, Allie. If they find us––”

“It’s okay,” I told him.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not. Only talk to me like this. Promise me...”

I stared at his face, worried. He didn’t look good.

“Can you swim?” I said.

He looked back over his shoulder, towards shore, still holding my arm, only now it felt like he was using me as a flotation device. I felt him hesitate, as if thinking about my question.

When I started swimming towards land, though, he followed.

WE REACHED THE rocky shoreline, stopping at each set of cement pillars to let him rest. As if by mutual assent, we didn’t get out of the water right away but traveled south, sliding from one private dock and mooring to the next in a slow procession down the shoreline.

The morning sun disappeared behind cloud cover, which helped turn everything gray when police boats skimmed the water on their way towards the bridge.

I heard the thwup, thwup, thwup of rotary blades, and couldn’t help but follow them with my eyes. Some of the helicopters looked military. I wondered if they were Sweeps, anti-terrorist from our own government, or just navy from down the coast in Tacoma.

We hid under one dock and then the next until our teeth chattered, waiting for them to circle and pass. We didn’t speak, and I tried not to worry as Revik’s breathing grew ragged. Just as the activity really exploded around the bridge and the submerged GTX, we climbed out into a public park, wading over and through thick vegetation that surrounded the last bit of water before it dumped us out on a wide, manicured grass lawn.

I helped him into the trees.

I was likely more conspicuous with my tattered waitressing uniform and bare legs, but he looked worse than me, and not only because of the blood still running down one side of his face. I could only hope no one saw us until we entered the forested park, where the trees made us at least as inconspicuous as your average homeless person. Once we were well out of sight of the shore, I helped him lean against a tree, then slide down to sit.

He was shivering by then, so pale he looked dead.

I looked around for something I might cover him with, then decided speed mattered more. At the moment, the cops were focusing on the car itself. Once they saw no one in it, I knew that would change, and fast.

The adjoining neighborhood didn’t look rich enough to have a grid along the entire coast. If it did, we were screwed already, since our presence would have been recorded and sent automatically to SCARB and local law enforcement. Even so, I had to assume regular, mid-grade upper-middle class suburban security, which meant towers on the streets that took timed images...maybe flyers at night, depending on how paranoid the neighbors were.

Still thinking about this, I squatted next to his legs.

“Revik.” I grasped his arm, tighter, until his eyes opened. “Don’t go to sleep. You can’t sleep, okay? I need to know I can trust you if I leave.”

“There is a safe house—”

“You told me,” I said patiently. “But we’re not going to make it like this. You said it’s downtown, right? And you can’t do anything in the Barrier. So we need to do it the human way. I need to get us clothes. And at least one local ident card, to get us past the gate.”

I saw him look at the wet uniform clinging to my body, my blood-matted hair. He nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” I said. “Don’t fall asleep.”

“I won’t.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise, Allie.”

I SLID THROUGH a row of bushes, trying to avoid the road while staying on the edge of park that backed up against the nearest street full of wealthy homes, all of which lined the coast of Lake Washington. I looked for signs of burglar alarms, avoiding houses with cars in the driveway or where I could hear voices or feed stations blaring off screens through the windows.

Thank god, Seattle was nothing like San Francisco.

I found an open back door with no external cameras I could see at about the fourth or fifth house I checked. From a slight rise overlooking a set of backyards that formed a gentle curve around that part of the lake, I spotted the clothesline first and stopped. My fingers clutched the trunk of a tree as I looked for people in the windows and adjacent yards.

Men’s clothing hung from the sagging cotton rope between two maple trees. I saw sheets on another line that went to the other side of the Craftsman-style house. Women’s clothes hung there also in a more colorful line of blues and purples, and what looked like a child’s, but that line was much closer to the back of the house. It was the men’s clothes that drew my eyes. I found myself hoping they were dry, even as I measured the length of the pant legs with my eyes, wondering if they would be remotely close enough to fit him.

A moment later, I slid through a gap in the tall evergreen shrubs that hid the back of the house from the lake’s shore, avoiding the actual footpath and its stone steps down to their private dock. Stepping along the fence, I got as close to the line as I dared without breaking cover, then reached out to tug off a pair of jeans and baggy sweats, grabbing a long-sleeved T-shirt and an only slightly damp sweatshirt from another section of line.

Taking my bundle back into the hedge, I didn’t wait but pulled the bloody and ripped-up white waitressing blouse over my head and left it in the bushes. Then I writhed out of the black miniskirt and even my underwear so that I was stark naked, and freezing my ass off. In less than a minute, I’d pulled on the long-sleeved tee and jeans, rolling up the cuffs on the latter so they rested on the top of my feet and folding over the waist to keep them up without a belt. I left the sweats and sweatshirt in the hedge and looked back up at the house itself.

That’s when I noticed the back door was open.

At first it made me panic. I wondered if someone had seen me, or come outside to collect clothes. When I didn’t hear or see anyone after a few minutes, however, I decided the door had already been open when I got there.

I hesitated only a half-second longer, then crept forward.

I knew we needed money, and this was better than mugging someone.

Time was an issue, too.

I walked to the back door, moving quietly. I tried not to think too much about how I must look, with my hair bunched up with lake gunk in it, my arms and face bloody and bruised. I told myself that these people could afford to be robbed, with a house like this on the lake...and if they found it disquieting that someone had snuck into their house while they were at home, well, that was a small price to pay.

It still didn’t feel great, though.

I peered into a large but dated kitchen with dark oak cabinets and white-tile counters. The linoleum was clean but faded from its original flecked gold and white. On a butcher-block cutting board, I saw an actual homemade pie. Staring at it, seeing the dark berry puree bleeding out of the crust, I felt my stomach grind into a hard knot.

Tiptoeing around the pie to the refrigerator, I opened the door softly, glancing over the contents before grabbing a container of milk and quaffing it. Setting it down carefully so as not to rattle the metal shelf, I pulled out a package of bread, then another plastic package of what looked like real cheese, probably from one of the local farmer’s markets.

As I closed the door softly, I caught sight of the entryway table. On it sat a leather purse, worn to a pale beige from years of use. It looked like something my mom would buy and wear into nothing, too, and suddenly I felt a little sick.

Shoving aside my lingering guilt, I walked with painstaking care down the hall, conscious of any loose floorboards as I lifted and placed my bare feet. I reached the purse and opened the snaps, wincing at the faint click before I tugged it open.

The woman’s wallet lay on top, a faded Gucci with a white and brown pattern along the coin purse. I opened it quickly and quietly, found an ident card and breathed a sigh of relief in spite of my guilt. Tugging it carefully out of the side pocket and shoving it into the front pocket of the stolen jeans, I closed the purse, then hesitated again, seeing the woman’s headset.

I could leave both in the taxi. Minus a few credits, the woman would probably get them both back without too much of a hassle; the cabbie would be legally obliged to turn them in, and they were both coded to her. Hesitating only a second longer, I snatched up the headset, too, and turned for the back door.

I found myself facing a four-year-old boy with dark eyes and dark hair. His mouth fell slightly open as he stared up at me, his eyes growing wider and wider. My heart thudded in my chest, but I held up a hand to reassure him.

“It’s okay, kid,” I whispered. “It’s for a good cause. Tell your mom I’m really sorry.”

The kid stared at me, his almond eyes growing wider still.

Then his mouth dropped open for real.

“Mom!” he shrieked. “Mommy! There’s a dirty lady in here! She has my sammich bread! She has my sammich bread!”

My heart stopped for a half-beat.

...Then I bolted, leaping over and past the boy.

I landed off-kilter on one foot, picked up my weight, stumbled for the door, limping on the ankle I’d just twisted. I knocked into the door frame as I ran by, smacking my shoulder and making a loud clattering noise that echoed into the small clearing.

A screech of lake-rusted hinges followed me as the door swung behind my erratic path. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that the door hung crooked on its wooden frame.

I didn’t look back again.

At the small opening in the hedge, I scooped up the clothes I’d stolen for Revik, then ran behind the denser vegetation and through the next backyard over. I made it back up to the wooded park above the row of homes a few minutes later, trying not to think about whether Revik would still be there.

Panting, I ran up to the cluster of roots on to the tree where I thought I’d left him.

He wasn’t there.

My heart stopped again, until I realized I’d gone to the wrong tree.

I found him after I’d already started to panic, skidding to a stop when I saw his long legs splayed. When I saw his eyes closed, I panicked, sure he was dead...but they fluttered open as soon as I crouched beside him.

“I didn’t sleep...” he said. “I didn’t.”

Relieved beyond words, I kissed him on the mouth.

His eyes registered a dim surprise.

“Sorry I took so long,” I said, embarrassed, then grinned. “But hey, look!” I showed him the headset. Fitting it over my ear, I switched it on, even as it occurred to me to hope it didn’t have a DNA key. I knew some of the newer ones did.

Luckily, it wasn’t that new.

I scrolled through the woman’s cached numbers until I found one labeled “taxi.”

“Yeah,” I said when the dispatcher picked up. I waited for her to trace our location. “Yeah, now.” I glanced at Revik, watched him fumble with the sweatshirt I’d brought him. “We’ll be in the parking lot.” I hung up, crouching in front of him again. “You up for this? We can’t go door to door...we’ll have to have them drop us near a bus stop, or downtown. It’s in Chinatown, right?”

He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt.

I continued to stand there as he began struggling out of it. Looking down at his exposed neck and shoulder, I noticed a question-mark scar curling up from his back to his throat, such a pale white color it had to be really old. It wasn’t small though, or particularly light. In fact, it was nearly the width of my index finger.

I hesitated, wondered if I should offer to help, given his condition, then thought better of it and walked off a few paces instead, sitting on the grass with my back to him.

Twisting off the clasp ties, I reached into the plastic bag filled with bread, selected a big piece with dark crust and began munching. It was soft with a crunchy, chewy crust, and at that moment I decided it was the best damned bread I’d ever eaten.

I played lookout while I ate, combing fingers through my hair to get as much gunk out as I could, pausing occasionally to try to clean up my face on the long-sleeved tee.

“Stockholm syndrome,” I muttered, then laughed, stuffing another piece of bread into my mouth and chewing.

I would think about that later.

THE SUN DIPPED towards late-afternoon before we finally stood in front of a red-painted basement door.

I looked up the cement stairs to the street, where a woman leaned against a telephone pole. Nylons torn, makeup running down her cheeks under a slightly askew wig, she swayed drunkenly on high heels, staring at Revik with half-hearted interest. She saw me looking at her and gestured in a dismissive wave.

“Enjoy yourself, girlfriend.” She burst into a laugh. “That one’s too drunk to fuck, so you be nice...I find him in the gutter tomorrow, I’ll remember your face, honey...”

My eyes found Revik’s. He continued leaning against me, his hand on the wall. He was having trouble breathing.

I said to him, “You sure this is the place?”

He didn’t look at the woman, who called out again, trying to get his attention. “Yes.”

“Hey, lover! Be careful! That one looks like a predator...” She burst into drunken laughter. “Wanna come home with me? I’ll take good care of you. Hey! Tall and dark...”

“This part of town isn’t exactly where I’d put a ‘safe’ house,” I muttered. “You’re sure we’re at the right—”

“Seers have photographic memories, Allie,” he said. “Trust me. It is here.”

Seeing the exhaustion behind the request in his eyes, I gripped him tighter, but still hesitated, staring at the chipped, red-painted door. I was about to walk into a house full of seers. Seers who would probably think I’d done this to him.

And they wouldn’t be that far off.

“Knock, Allie.”

I raised my hand.

The door opened before I could touch the wood.

A woman stood there with stunning dark-red hair that hung in ringlets down either side of her heart-shaped face to bare, pearl-white shoulders. My eyes took in that flawless face, the dark blue eyes that shone almost violet and perfectly drawn lips. Everything about her, from her clothes to her figure to her hair reminded me of an old sex siren from the forties or fifties. The clothes she wore fit so well they could have been made for her.

Or painted on her, perhaps.

The woman smiled, and the smile drew me like a caress.

“Can I help you, friend?”

I glanced at Revik. No wonder he wanted to come here.

He remained outside the circle of light, but I felt his fingers relax slightly when the woman appeared. Turning away from the relief I could see on his face, I looked past her, glimpsing a wider space with more people, but her eyes must have followed mine back to him.

“Revi’!” The violet eyes widened, all trace of coyness gone. “Gods, Revi’! What happened to you?”

Before I could say a word, she stepped forward, not moving me aside so much as sliding into the gap between me and Revik and circling his waist with her arm. She took him for me before it occurred to me to protest, and led him through the doorway. I found myself just standing there, strangely light without him to prop up, but not really relieved, either.

Then another pair of hands dragged me in after the two of them, swinging shut the door.

More people rose from chairs, their faces showing different amounts of surprise. None spoke...aloud anyway. Looking around at all of them without really seeing them, I glimpsed satin dresses and long jackets, faces heavy with make-up with a variety of skin tones and hair textures. The first woman I’d seen appeared to be in charge. She gestured with her free hand to the others, speaking an odd mix of accented English and a language I didn’t know.

“Mira, lock the door! Il’letre ar enge. Ivy, set up the room, yes, ugnete...make sure Sharin knows, and tell her to let the last one out the back...”

The woman with the long red hair stood at a decent height, maybe five-nine, but still looked small where she supported Revik with her shoulder. I saw her caress his back with a ring-adorned hand and felt more than that pass between them.

“That was you on the news!” she said, looking up at him. “I should have known...they intimated terrorism. But we didn't expect you so soon.” As if remembering, she looked over her shoulder at me. Her eyes glowed briefly, taking me in.

“Is this her?”

Revik glanced at me, too. Then he turned away, speaking only to her, using that other language, interspersing his words with a series of clicks.

“Arente ar mulens, sarten,” he said softly. He glanced at me again. “Il en, yet. Igre ar ulen. Bridge,” he added.

The woman stared at me. “Ar li ente u?”

“Ur et estarn. Alyson...ut te Allie.”

The woman looked at me more intently. Her irises blurred just enough that I suspected she was reading my mind. I saw Revik nod to her perceptibly a few seconds later. He gestured fluidly with one hand, ending on a downward slash.

I stood there, arms folded, fighting back emotion that felt more and more like anger. My eyes found his fingers entangled in the woman’s dark red hair, caressing the bare skin of her neck and shoulder.

A pulse of warmth reached me.

I jumped, my face hotter when I realized who had sent it. Then it hit me. He had access to his abilities again.

He met my gaze. Ullysa has a construct on this place. It will keep us hidden from the Barrier proper. We are safe here...for now.

Ullysa made a soft clicking sound that held a trace of amazement, drawing my eyes.

“She is young, Revi',” she said. “I pictured an old man from the Elders’ impressions. Is she trained at all?”

Revik made another of those downward slashing motions.

No, he translated for me.

Ullysa looked up at Revik’s face. “And how did they find you? We were told you got away from San Francisco cleanly.”

“It was my mistake—” Revik began.

“No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”

Ullysa looked at me in surprise.

Her expression suddenly grew much harder for me to read. She bowed politely as I thought it, indicating around the room with her free hand. I couldn’t help but notice her other hand was now under the sweatshirt Revik wore, caressing his bare back.

Realizing I was staring, I looked away, folding my arms tighter.

“Wait here, please,” she said politely. “...Esteemed Bridge.”

I held up my hands, not hiding my annoyance. “Sure thing.”

She left the room with Revik, whose eyes I avoided, only to meet other stares aimed at me from different parts of the room. Shrugging deliberately, I plopped down on one of the plush chairs. A number of seers had risen to stare at me. Most of those stares felt mainly curious, but I felt hostility there, as well. Maybe I was too tired to be afraid, or too angry, or too stupid, but I avoided looking at any of them, even to smooth over the silence.

Eventually, though, I met one woman’s gaze in particular. Her eyes were predatory, but beneath that, I felt a lot of anger.

Great. This woman actually felt dangerous.

“Should we call his owner?” a girl asked from another part of the room. She sounded worried...and sane, at least. “He’ll be in trouble, won’t he?”

“What is the point?” The predatory woman’s eyes remained on me. Her accent was thick, and sounded Slavic. Russian, maybe. “His owners will have declared him rogue by now...cut a deal with SCARB to avoid attention.”

“But I thought his job was classified. Even among the humans, don’t they—”

“Well, they may not tell the human news crews what he did for them,” the Russian said, rolling her eyes at the other’s words. “But that does not mean they will not shoot him down like a dog now.” Her eyes returned to mine. “What do you think, little girl? You were raised human.”

Her full lips curled, but it wasn’t really a smile.

“Would you kill him?” she taunted. “...Or play with him awhile first?”

A few of the other seers snickered.

I tried looking from face to face openly, the way Cass would have done.

When the other seers only avoided my eyes, I focused back on the Russian. The woman had her hair piled in braids around an angular but striking face with caramel-colored skin. Her brown eyes shone with so much light that I found myself fighting a kind of fear reaction just trying to hold her gaze.

Her full lips curved higher, so I knew she was reading my mind, too.

She stood beside a short Asian with a wide face and dark hair hanging down the center of her back. So not all seers were tall—good to know. Both of them wore silk robes that covered only the top of their thighs.

“Does it bother you, that we are whores?” the Russian asked me, folding her arms. “Would it bother you to know he sells it, too? But then, we seers are all ‘big sex,’ yes?” Anger colored her voice again, but once she saw my face, her predatory smile returned.

“Ah, you do not like what I say. But Revi’ is a whore...of many kinds. Offer him money. See what he says.” She grinned around at the others. “We seers always need money!”

More laughter rose. A few other seers held my stare that time, too, and smirked at me knowingly. Their expressions and bodies seemed to shift around me, a sea of hair and skin and glowing eyes, and they looked like animals to me, I couldn’t help it. They gestured to one another and their voices echoed in my head, seeming to come from all sides.

Has she tasted him yet?

No. I do not see him in her.

No wonder she is so angry...

Laughter rings, in my mind and outside. My head pounds, but my body feels far away, like a shank of meat on a hook. I close my eyes, trying to block them out.

Do you think it was she who beat him half dead?

Knowing Revi', he liked it...

A few more of them laughed.

He was hungry...even under all that. Do you think she refused him?

Not this one. She is hungry too.

Maybe he is forbidden? By the elders, I mean. Maybe he is not allowed, with his penance.

Did he ask you for it, little girl?

This last is directed at me, and comes from the Russian with that angular face and light-filled eyes and long, brown legs. The rest of the prostitutes fall silent, waiting for my answer.

I look around at them, knowing there is no good answer, no good not-answer.

Finally, I just fold my arms, sinking deeper in the plush chair.

They all laugh again. The room is half in darkness now. Their faces flicker, in and out, negative to positive. The Russian smiles nearest to me.

You don't know what you're missing, little sister...

I struggle to work my tongue. I am too angry, tired and in pain to care anymore if they hurt me. “Look,” I say. “We're not related, Miss...?”

Kat. I am Kat, and I have tasted him. Would you like to know how often? In what ways?

Images swirl briefly, a taste of the flavor of him, and my body reacts involuntarily, a thick surge of that nausea bringing heat to my face.

Kat laughs, and the images recede.

Yes...she is hungry for brother Revik. Kat looks around at the room. But is it him in particular, I wonder? She is new to our kind, after all. Maybe she would like one of her other brothers just as much? Who will break her in for the rest of us?

My fists curl. I don’t turn my head towards any of the males I now feel looking at me with interest. The tiredness is debilitating; if they’re not just having fun with me, there’s no way for me to know. I see a wine bottle, half full on the table.

I let my hand wander closer—

Stop! A voice breaks through the others. You are going too far...she thinks you mean it! The short, Asian female steps closer, and I realize it is her voice. She looks at me with curiosity, but also sympathy. She can’t help what she’s been taught. She’s scared, Kat. You’re being mean.

Mika is right, says a warm voice, chiding the Russian. And the girl does like him. You should not tell her of his trade. It is not your place.

Kat snorts. I am educating her. What does she think he's doing with Ullysa right now?

Don’t be silly, says another. He’s wounded.

He is never that wounded!

Another roll of laughter twangs strings of light, this one warmer, more genuine. I blink, try to focus my eyes.

The mature-sounding voice returns. My head turns; I can almost distinguish them now. An African-looking woman stands in the back, smiling at me with dark eyes.

Retract your claws, Kat. She’s only a cub.

She wants to know...look at her!

She doesn’t want to know. You are angering her, Kat...and you are jealous.

Jealous? Of what? Why would he play with a half worm, when there is no money in it?

He wants anything with a pulse, a male voice laughs. And her soul may look like an old man, but she is beautiful...her light pulls. Of course he wants her...I want her. The paradox alone is intriguing, even without those eyes...

I am exhausted. I’m fighting to stay awake when another presence enters the room. The others fall silent, and it is a schoolyard silence, children caught tormenting a wounded animal.

Even Kat steps back, looking defensive.

“What is going on in here?” Ullysa says.

I am standing. When had I gotten to my feet?

Just having a little fun, big sis, Kat sends.

I look at Kat, and the woman’s eyes pulse, more schoolyard politics, this time a warning from the head bully to remain silent. But I don’t even care anymore. I feel sick, more tired than I can remember feeling. I want to go home, make sure my mother’s all right, and Jon...and Cass. To hell with these people.

Now that Revik is okay maybe they’ll just let me leave.

“You cannot leave, sister.” Ullysa’s eyes reflect alarm, maybe at my thoughts, or maybe at something she sees in my face. “There is no home to which you could return. I am sorry. Did you not watch the feeds?”

I shake my head, but I can’t let myself think about her words. Putting out a hand like a zombie, I lean my weight on a chair.

Fuck it. If they wanted to screw with my head, or rape me or whatever, there wasn’t a hell of a lot I could do about it. Maybe I wouldn’t even remember.

When I glanced up, Ullysa was staring at me again. Then her eyes turned to glass, reminding me of Revik’s before they swiveled to face the rest of the room.

Her anger flared, a red streak in the dark.

She was begging for it! Kat said, before Ullysa could speak. Her sad, human eyes on our brother's ass...

Ullysa fury pulsed higher. “Do you know who this is? Do you have any idea what you are doing right now?”

Stepping towards me, she ignored my flinch and took my arm.

I stood there, feeling like some kind of poster child, and not liking that much, either. She spoke quietly though, warmly, and at each word, I felt a little less strung out.

“I am very sorry to have left you alone, Esteemed sister,” she said. She glared around at the seers filling the rest of the room. “...I would never have done so, if I knew my own people would shame me in such a way.”

Her eyes returned to mine, and softened.

“I wanted only to look at the nature of his wounds. Right now, more than anything he requires sleep, and that is better done in pairs.” She glanced at Kat. “...He asked for you,” she added pointedly.

I didn’t know which of us she meant, and at that point I didn’t much care.

When she looked at me that time, Ullysa smiled. A flicker of relief shone in her violet-tinged eyes as they met mine. “He is very weak. Did you feed him at all, sister?”

I had to think about this. I shook my head. “No. I stole some stuff. He wouldn’t eat it...” I trailed, hearing the prostitutes snicker.

Ullysa’s voice remained gentle. “Sister...I meant light. Did you give him any of your light?”

I blinked, trying again to think.

Finally, I could only shake my head.

“I don’t understand.”

Kat broke out, “You see? She acts like one of them. Thinks like one of them!”

Ullysa’s eyes flashed fire. “She is only recently awakened, and you should know why that is! You are embarrassing me, Kat!” She turned to me, her fire dimming back to that warm ember. “I will show you, sister. Please come with me.”

I followed her, giving a last glance at Kat, who was staring at me, her brown eyes glowing in anger. I turned away from her once I saw the fury reflected there, and pushed it from my mind a second later, focusing on the hallway itself.

Plush, dark-green carpet cushioned my bare feet, feeling heavenly after walking over and around sharp stones, trash and glass on the cement sidewalks. Hanging on the corridor walls, tapestries depicted colorful dragons belching fire, people in Asian-looking costumes floating or riding on clouds, fantastical-looking animals that may have been lions with curling blue and green hair. I touched the face of a giant white dog with bared teeth.

Ullysa smiled. “They are Chinese. Given to me before the Cultural Revolution.”

I nodded, but didn’t speak, or even look away from the walls.

We turned down a few more forks in the long hallway, and I realized the apartment must be huge, not really an apartment at all but more like a flat, or perhaps they owned the entire building. Eventually, after what felt like the length of a football field, I followed Ullysa into a square room with a white door.

The building must be set in a hill, I thought.

The side I was on now faced the downward slope, as windows showed us to be aboveground, rather than on the first floor, like before. In front of those same windows, rust-colored drapes hung from rods below a low, red ceiling. An even thicker, gold-white carpet sank under my bare feet. I glanced towards the bed, and over the headboard saw another painting, this time of a round-eyed god riding a lion. He spat fire below an elaborate headdress of looping tongues of flame. Next to him, I saw an image of what might be a buddha, only with a stack of heads rising like a cone from his torso.

“She likes the paintings, Revi’,” Ullysa said. “Especially the thankahs.”

I glanced down, and saw him looking at me from the bed. The sweatshirt was gone, but he didn’t look like he’d been doing the big sex, like Kat had said. He gestured delicately to the woman who sat next to him in a chair, stitching up his shoulder.

As soon as he had, she pressed a palm to his forehead.

When she took her fingers away, his eyes were closed. Seeing him lying there so still and pale, I stepped closer to the bed, my hands shoved deep in my pockets.

“He will sleep now.” The woman stitching his shoulder...or girl really, I realized, now that I stood closer...smiled. Her bleached, platinum hair stuck up in curled tufts around an elfin face. “I let him stay awake until he saw you...but no more. I am sorry.”

I hesitated, not sure I was ready for more bad news.

“Is he all right?” I said.

“The shot was clean,” she assured me, tugging the thread up by the needle, pulling his skin taut. “Physically, he will recover well. He has lost a lot in structure, though,” she said more somberly. “...That will take longer.” The elfin face turned to mine. “Will you hold for him?”

My mind puzzled over this for a few beats. I glanced at Ullysa.

“We will all provide light,” Ullysa explained to me. “But one person serves as a conduit. Ivy is asking if you will take that role.”

I still didn’t get it. I nodded anyway.

Ullysa’s smile warmed. “As in many things, the best way to learn is by doing.”

My jaw tightened. “I’d rather not use a dying guy as my test case. You’re his friends...why don’t one of you do it?”

Ivy glanced up at me in surprise. “He asked for you.”

My cheeks warmed. “Fine. But I’m not exactly qualified. And I’m pretty damned tired myself, if you want the truth.”

Ullysa took my arm, guiding me gently towards the bed. “You must be very, very tired, sister,” she said, her voice a near purr. “This requires no strength or effort, I assure you...merely structure, and you have that in abundance. We will do the rest.”

I stared at Revik’s body sprawled on the dark orange comforter. Ivy was knotting the stitching on his shoulder. I watched until she glanced up, smiling as she bit off the excess thread. A pulse of warmth reached me from the girl’s light as she did it, like what Revik had done to me in the other room. It seemed to be a form of affection...or reassurance maybe...like a hand on the arm at hello. The simple gesture brought my emotion surging to the surface.

“Is my family all right?” I said. “Has there been anything on the feeds about them?”

The warmth from Ivy increased.

She nodded. “Interviews were released by SCARB. They have all said you are innocent...that you would not hurt anyone.” Ivy clicked softly. “No avatars, of course, but we will protect them. We believe the Rooks were behind that, the showing of their real faces...”

“No avatars?” I said. “What did they look like?”

Ivy rolled her eyes up in thought. “A very sad and worried woman with dark curly hair and large eyes who they say is your mother. A handsome man with streaked hair, Chinese writing on his arms, and broad shoulders who is your brother. A Thai girl with hair like Ullysa’s and who wears dark lipstick...” Ivy held her hands out to approximate Cass’s generous chest, and I laughed in spite of myself. Ivy smiled. “They seemed very nice.”

I felt myself take a breath. “Then they’re okay.”

Ivy smiled. “They are fine, Esteemed Bridge.”

I hesitated, staring at her.

Esteemed Bridge. Those were the exact words the other woman had used...and the same ones Revik called me whenever he didn’t forget and call me Allie instead. Or when he was stressed out and wanted me to do something, like when he’d been dragging me across Golden Gate Park by the wrist, trying to get us out of San Francisco.

Before I could ask, Ullysa pushed gently at my back until I sat on the edge of the bed.

She very efficiently removed the jeans I’d stolen off the clothesline earlier that day, leaving me with the long-sleeved T-shirt and nothing else. I slid my legs under the quilt, not caring. Lying down was followed by unspeakable relief as I sank between clean sheets. I watched Ivy continue to work over Revik, bandaging his shoulder. If I’d known him even a little better, I might have curled up on his other side, maybe even wrapped my arm around him.

I was tempted to do it anyway.

I turned to Ullysa, but she held up a hand.

“Shhh, Esteemed sister. Do not talk. I apologize profoundly for the lack of warmth in your greeting here. Revi’ has already told us that you saved his life several times...”

I was about to argue, then decided she probably didn’t care.

“What do I do?” I said. “The holding thing, I mean?”

“Relax,” Ullysa said.

This time it was a command.

My eyelids immediately closed.