The kettle woke Ezekiel.
For a moment, its thin whistle belonged to the room beneath the building. He was standing in the doorway again, trying to make his hands stop shaking. A man was reaching inside his jacket.
Ezekiel sat up too quickly.
Pain tightened across his ribs.
“Fuck.”
From the kitchen, Serena turned.
“I was told this would announce when the water was ready.”
“Yeah.” He pressed his good hand against his side. “It’s announcing.”
She lifted the kettle from the heat. The whistle dwindled.
Morning light lay across the unopened boxes. Someone outside was dragging a trash bin over uneven pavement. His phone had slipped between the couch cushions, and the blanket had tangled around his legs.
He worked it loose while Serena watched from the kitchen doorway.
“Did you sleep?”
“Some.”
She gave him a look that suggested she knew exactly how much.
“You?”
“A little.”
Neither challenged the other.
She had buttoned his shirt incorrectly. One side hung lower than the other, and she held a mug with both hands as though she had not decided what to do with it.
He nodded toward it.
“For me?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks.”
She brought it over.
The water was hot and entirely without tea.
Ezekiel looked into the mug, then toward the unopened box of tea bags on the counter.
“What is wrong?”
“Nothing. We’re halfway there.”
His cousin answered on the second call.
Ezekiel stood by the window while they spoke, keeping his voice low. Twice he said he was all right. The second time, Serena heard how carefully he made it sound ordinary.
“No, stay there for now. I’ll come when we know it’s clear.”
He listened, eyes closed.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“I know. I’m sorry.”
When the call ended, he remained at the window.
Serena set the tea box beside his mug.
“You wanted to see them today.”
“Still do.”
“But?”
“But showing up might bring the wrong people with me.”
She looked toward the front door.
“Do those people know this house?”
“Not that I know of. I just moved.”
He did not sound comforted by the answer.
“Big D says we need to talk.”
“The person who helped last night?”
“Yeah. He got somebody to check on my cousin. Sent the guy who patched me up.”
“Then we should thank him.”
Ezekiel turned from the window.
“We should hear him out.”
She noticed the distinction.
Before she could ask about it, he nodded toward the hallway.
“You want the bathroom first?”
“Yes.”
She reached for the lowest button on the shirt.
“Whoa. Hold on.”
Serena paused.
“What?”
“Bathroom’s over there.”
“I can see it.”
“Then maybe do that part in there.”
She looked down at the shirt and back at him.
“Does this trouble you?”
“It’s seven in the morning. I got shot last night. I’d like to make it to breakfast without any more surprises.”
A little amusement touched her face.
“You are easily unsettled for a gangsta.”
“We covered this.”
“I remember.”
“You’re doing it on purpose now.”
“Perhaps.”
She crossed the hall without removing anything else.
At the bathroom door, she looked back.
“Thank you for telling me.”
He blinked.
“About the bathroom?”
“What you prefer.”
Then she closed the door.
Ezekiel looked into his tea.
He had known people for years who found that more difficult.
Serena took so long in the bath that he eventually knocked.
“You alive in there?”
There was a pause.
“Would the answer reassure you?”
He leaned his forehead against the frame.
“Clothes, Serena. We still need clothes.”
“I will be out shortly.”
She meant another twenty minutes.
When she finally emerged, she wore his sweatpants and a hoodie with the sleeves folded back. She regarded the drawstring at her waist with open disapproval.
“This garment lacks conviction.”
“It’s sweatpants.”
“It needs a rope to remain where it belongs.”
“So do boats. Get your shoes.”
She looked at him for a moment, then laughed.
The sound stopped almost as soon as it began.
He saw her glance toward the bedroom.
Her ruined gown lay folded inside, out of sight.
Ezekiel picked up his keys and let her take the time she needed.
The shop stood between a nail salon and a bakery, under a faded awning that snapped whenever the wind came around the corner.
Ezekiel had chosen it because it was small, nearby, and unlikely to contain anybody he knew. Serena stopped outside the window to examine a jacket displayed on a headless figure.
“Is that considered elegant?”
“Depends who you ask.”
“I am asking you.”
“Then you picked the wrong person.”
Inside, a bell rang over the door. The air smelled of fabric, perfume, and bread from next door. Two narrow aisles led between crowded racks toward mirrors along the back wall. Music played from a speaker on the counter.
A woman sorting hangers looked up.
“Anything in particular?”
“Everything,” Serena said.
Ezekiel shut his eyes briefly.
“A few basics.”
The woman’s gaze moved from Serena’s borrowed clothes to the careful way he held his arm.
“All right,” she said. “We can start there.”
Within ten minutes, Serena had accumulated more clothes than either of them could comfortably carry.
She had opinions about seams. Strong ones.
A pale blouse earned her approval until she examined the fastening. A jacket pleased her, although she could not imagine why someone had sewn its pockets shut. The shopkeeper produced a small tool and explained.
Serena watched with fascination.
“You hide the useful parts?”
“Only until somebody buys it.”
She glanced toward Ezekiel.
“Your merchants are strange.”
“Our merchants heard that.”
The woman laughed.
Serena disappeared behind the fitting-room curtain with another armful.
Ezekiel sat on a narrow bench. His body had begun presenting new complaints now that the shock of the night had worn off. His shoulder ached. Breathing deeply pulled at the bruising beneath his ribs. He could not find a position that did not remind him of one or the other.
The curtain opened.
Serena wore a purple dress that fell below her knees. She had drawn her hair away from her face, and for the first time since he had met her, nothing she wore belonged to someone else.
She turned toward the mirror.
“Too much?”
“No.”
He answered quickly enough that she looked at him.
“No,” he repeated. “That one’s good.”
She studied his expression, then the dress.
“I thought so.”
When she went back behind the curtain, the shopkeeper smiled at him.
He pretended not to notice.
A few minutes later, Serena emerged carrying a dark green shawl.
“This is exactly the sort my mother would—”
She stopped.
Her fingers tightened in the fabric.
The shopkeeper waited without reaching for it.
Ezekiel stood slowly.
Serena looked down at the shawl as though she had forgotten where it came from.
“Not that one,” she said.
“All right,” the woman replied.
She took it gently and returned it to a shelf.
No one tried to sell Serena anything for a while.
At the counter, Ezekiel separated the things they could afford from the things they could not.
Serena watched him move a coat aside.
“Is it unsuitable?”
“It’s expensive.”
“So was the other one.”
“Exactly.”
He showed her the numbers.
She listened more carefully after that.
They settled on the purple dress, practical clothes, underthings, shoes that fitted, and a small bag for carrying them. It was still more than he had intended to spend.
Serena noticed his pause before paying.
“I have things of value at home.”
He glanced at her.
“If they remain,” she added.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“I do not intend for you to provide for me indefinitely.”
“I’m buying clothes. We don’t have to solve indefinitely at the register.”
Outside, she insisted on carrying the bags.
He let her.
They passed the bakery window. A little girl inside stood on tiptoe, pointing insistently at something her father could already see.
Serena watched them until they moved away.
“Sabine would have disliked that dress,” she said.
Ezekiel looked at the bag.
“Really?”
“She would have called it impractical. Then asked whether they had it in another color.”
He smiled.
After a moment, Serena did too.
Big D lived in a house with a deep front porch and a yard that seemed to belong to half the neighborhood.
Two men carried boxes toward an open garage. A woman by the gate argued over the price of something inside a plastic tote. Music drifted from a parked car, stopping whenever its owner interrupted it to answer his phone.
Ezekiel slowed before turning in.
Serena noticed.
“You trust him.”
“Yeah.”
“But you dislike coming here.”
“We grew up together.”
“That does not answer me.”
He rested his hand on the steering wheel.
“Some of this used to be my life. My cousin helped me get clear of it.”
“And he remained.”
“D stayed. Crystal too.”
She looked toward the porch.
“Are they dangerous?”
“They can be.”
“To us?”
“I don’t think so.”
She appreciated that he did not make the answer larger than his certainty.
Big D sat in a chair beside the front door, broad shoulders covered by a black T-shirt. His hair was partly braided. The woman behind him held a section between her fingers and wore an expression that discouraged interruption.
She looked up first.
“Well, look who’s walking.”
“Barely,” Ezekiel said.
“I can see that.”
Her gaze moved to Serena.
“And who’s this?”
“Serena.”
“Crystal.”
Serena inclined her head.
Big D started to rise.
Crystal pulled his hair.
“Sit.”
“Damn, you trying to take the whole scalp?”
“You keep moving.”
He settled, then looked at Ezekiel properly.
The humor left his face.
“You good?”
“Need to talk inside.”
Big D exhaled.
“My hair’s never getting finished.”
Crystal secured the loose section before letting him stand.
“That has been true since yesterday.”
Inside, the house was cooler and quieter than the yard.
A couch faced two chairs across a low table. Family photographs occupied most of a bookshelf; the books had been squeezed onto the bottom shelf beside a game controller and a stack of unopened mail.
Crystal shut the front door.
Ezekiel sat carefully.
She watched the movement.
“You take what he told you to take?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
He hesitated.
She went to get water.
Big D leaned forward.
“Your cousin’s staying put. Nobody’s bothered them.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to keep saying that.”
“Still saying it.”
Big D nodded once.
Then his attention moved to Serena.
“He said they had you tied up.”
“Yes.”
“Any idea why?”
Ezekiel looked at her.
He had asked in the car whether he could tell them. Serena had agreed, although hearing the question now made her wish she understood these people better.
“They wanted to become what I am,” she said.
Crystal returned with the water.
“Which is?”
“A vampire.”
Silence settled around the table.
Big D looked at Ezekiel.
“No.”
Ezekiel drank.
“I had the same reaction.”
“No, you need sleep.”
“Also true.”
Crystal remained standing.
“You telling me this is serious?”
“Yes,” Ezekiel said.
She looked at Serena again, this time with careful attention.
Serena could have shown them her teeth. She remembered how that had frightened Ezekiel and decided on something less abrupt.
She extended her arm.
“Push it down.”
Big D stared.
“What?”
“My arm. Try to lower it.”
He looked toward Crystal.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Go on.”
He approached with the cautious amusement of a man willing to indulge something foolish once.
His hand settled on Serena’s wrist.
He pushed.
Her arm remained level.
His smile changed.
He applied more weight, then placed his other hand beside the first.
Serena waited.
The floorboard beneath his heel creaked.
Crystal set the glass down.
“Move.”
Big D stepped aside.
She tested Serena’s arm herself, gradually committing her weight. When nothing happened, she looked underneath it, as though a support might have been concealed beneath the sleeve.
Ezekiel laughed.
The movement hurt enough to stop him.
Serena glanced toward him.
He waved his good hand.
“Worth it.”
Big D tried again.
This time Serena could not keep a straight face.
“Are you finished?”
“Hold on.”
“I am.”
Crystal let out a short laugh and stepped away.
“All right. Enough before somebody pulls something.”
Serena lowered her arm.
Big D sat down slowly.
“That proves strong,” Crystal said. “Doesn’t prove vampire.”
Serena let them see her teeth.
Neither asked for a third demonstration.
Big D rubbed his palms against his knees.
“Okay.”
Ezekiel waited.
“Okay,” he said again, with less conviction.
Crystal took the chair beside him.
“How many people know about you?”
“Outside my household?” Serena considered. “I cannot give you a number.”
“The men who took you weren’t surprised.”
“No.”
“And you don’t know how they found you?”
Serena shook her head.
Crystal leaned back.
“Well. That’s bad.”
“Thank you,” Ezekiel said. “We almost missed that.”
She ignored him.
“Your household. Anybody we should be trying to reach?”
Serena’s hands went still in her lap.
“I need to find out.”
Big D looked toward Ezekiel, who gave a small shake of his head.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Big D asked, “What did their equipment look like?”
Serena described the grooved weapon, the way the guardian’s armor had split, the small device that fired the dart. Crystal listened without interrupting.
“The ones I saw were carrying regular guns,” Ezekiel said. “Some other stuff was stacked along the wall. Cases. I wasn’t exactly taking inventory.”
“You shouldn’t have been,” Crystal replied.
“Does any of that mean something to you?” Serena asked.
“Not enough,” she said.
Big D shifted.
“Rocko’s people been bringing things in.”
Ezekiel looked up.
“What things?”
“Crates. Equipment. People who don’t talk to anybody around here unless they need something.”
“That covers half the neighborhood.”
“I know. I’m telling you what we’ve got.”
Serena glanced between them.
“Who is Rocko?”
Ezekiel’s expression closed slightly.
“Somebody D was already having problems with.”
Big D spread his hands.
“More than me.”
“That doesn’t make it a different conversation.”
“It might now.”
Crystal looked at him.
“Let him explain,” she told Ezekiel.
Rocko’s name belonged to several businesses and, according to Big D, very little legitimate work.
Some of the trouble was familiar enough to Ezekiel: pressure on smaller dealers, counterfeit goods disappearing before they reached buyers, people forced to pay to continue operating on streets they had worked for years.
Serena listened without pretending she understood every detail.
Then Crystal spoke about the women.
Her voice remained level.
“There’s a place they move them through. One got out. People we know helped her get somewhere else.”
“Move them where?” Serena asked.
“We don’t know all the destinations.”
“And they cannot leave?”
“No.”
Serena looked down at her wrists.
The marks from the restraints had faded.
Ezekiel saw where she was looking.
Big D continued, “I mentioned the place before last night. We can’t get near it without starting something that comes back on everybody around us.”
“And you want us to do it,” Ezekiel said.
“With her, you might have a chance.”
The room quieted.
Serena lifted her eyes.
Big D seemed to hear his own words only after they had left his mouth.
“I mean both of you.”
Ezekiel set his glass down.
“She got out last night. So did I.”
“I know.”
“Then let that matter for a minute.”
Big D looked at the bandage beneath his sleeve.
“All right.”
Crystal folded her arms.
“We also don’t know whether Rocko has anything to do with her house. Unfamiliar equipment doesn’t settle that.”
“No,” Serena said.
All three looked toward her.
“But you know he holds people.”
Crystal nodded.
“And one escaped.”
“Yes.”
“Then that is someone who can tell you more than a crate can.”
Ezekiel leaned back.
For the first time since Rocko’s name had entered the conversation, he seemed to be considering something beyond refusing it.
“Would she talk to us?” he asked.
“I can ask,” Crystal said. “She might not want to.”
Serena nodded.
“Then ask. Do not bring her here because we want answers.”
Crystal studied her for a moment.
“All right.”
Big D scratched his jaw.
“There’s money if we can shut him down.”
Ezekiel gave him a tired look.
“What? There is.”
Serena looked toward the shopping bags beside the door.
Money meant clothes. Somewhere to live. A way to stop wondering how much she cost the man sitting beside her.
It also meant that somebody else would be deciding what her strength was worth.
“What precisely would you be paying for?” she asked.
Big D did not answer at once.
Ezekiel turned toward her.
“We don’t have to agree to anything today.”
“I know.”
She said it more firmly than she felt.
Then she looked back at Big D.
“I would like an answer before we do.”
They left without accepting the job.
Crystal promised to ask the woman whether she would speak with them. Big D promised that Ezekiel’s cousin could remain where they were for as long as needed.
At the porch, he caught Ezekiel’s good shoulder.
“I wasn’t trying to put you right back in it.”
Ezekiel looked at him.
Big D sighed.
“Okay. Maybe I was thinking too fast.”
“I know how you think.”
“You used to like it.”
“I used to do a lot of shit.”
They stood quietly for a moment.
Then Big D pulled him into a careful, one-armed embrace.
“Glad you got out.”
“Me too.”
Serena waited beside the steps.
On the way to the car, she glanced back. Crystal had taken up her position behind Big D’s chair, and he was already objecting to the force with which she turned his head.
For reasons Serena could not have explained, the sight eased something in her.
Ezekiel sat behind the wheel without starting the engine.
“You okay?”
Serena looked down at the purple fabric over her knees.
“The woman they helped. I would like to speak to her.”
“If she wants to.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
A truck passed at the end of the street.
Serena watched it until it disappeared.
“If there is payment, I could return what you spent today.”
He looked at her.
“That’s not a reason to go.”
“It is not my only reason.”
“It shouldn’t be any of them.”
She turned toward him.
“You cannot expect me to accept everything and give nothing.”
“You carried me out of a building while I was bleeding all over you.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
She opened her mouth, then closed it.
Ezekiel rested his head against the seat.
“Look. If we earn something, get you set up somewhere you actually like, that’s good. But you don’t owe me a job because I bought you shoes.”
“Somewhere else?”
“If you want.”
She heard the offer and, beneath it, the possibility of another unfamiliar room with nobody on the other side of the wall.
“We made a promise.”
“Yeah.”
“I intended to keep it.”
“So did I.”
“Then do not arrange my departure as though it would relieve us both.”
He turned fully toward her.
“That’s not what I meant.”
She searched his face.
He let her.
Finally, her shoulders eased.
“I would prefer to stay for now.”
“Okay.”
“With you.”
“I got that.”
A little of her dignity returned.
“You are frequently slow to understand me.”
“Lady, yesterday you knighted me as a gangsta.”
Despite herself, she laughed.
This time, she let the sound last.
Ezekiel started the car.
When they reached his house, Serena carried the bags inside. She put the practical clothes in the bedroom and hung the purple dress carefully over the back of a chair before changing.
Her ruined gown remained where she had folded it.
She touched its sleeve.
There were things she still had to do for Sabine. Things she could not yet bear to name. She had no idea whether anyone else from Casa Val had survived, and she could not allow uncertainty to become an answer simply because the answer frightened her.
From the other room, Ezekiel struggled with the kettle.
“Serena?”
“Yes?”
“You want some tea?”
She looked once more at the gown.
Then she went to help him.