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"Sorry. I can't control my hunger," I snapped.
"We'll go there for supplies. If I feel it's safe, we'll get something to eat."
"Yes, your majesty. Simply say the word."
"Dammit," he bellowed. "Can't you obey me one time without some kind of comment or challenge?"
I dampened my lip with my tongue, trying to think through my words before speaking. Anger wanted to control my mouth, but I shoved my temper back. Keeping my voice like gla.s.s, I got close to his face. "I am not some mindless, daft girl who will fall at your feet. I don't actually like you or trust you. I think I've been doing really well at guarding what I say. But if you demand I obey you again, then you and I will have a lot more problems than me being a good little girl." My anger was cool and calm and far scarier than if I threw a tantrum.
Without letting him respond, I went around him and proceeded to the shelter. A little monkey hand came from my bag, high-fiving me. Sprig snickered and softly said, "You go, bhean."
The storage building was surrounded by a tall chain-link fence, locked with a padlock. This was it? I wanted to laugh. I could get over the fence or unlock the bolt in a matter of seconds. Who did they think this was keeping out?
"It's too light outside. Someone will see us if we try to climb it." Ryker evaluated our surroundings.
I was standing in front of the lock, taking a pin from my bag. "Already ahead of you." I motioned to him with my head. "Keep watch. A standard lock shouldn't take me long. "
He did a double take.
"What? I'm not as innocent as you think I am."
"I think you're anything but innocent," he sneered. His meaning obviously alluded to the DMG.
"Even before I worked with them." I yanked on the lock, popping it open.
His eyes grew wide.
"See, not helpless." I smiled haughtily and stepped inside.
He closed the gate behind us, so someone from a distance wouldn't notice anything wrong. We stayed low, progressing to the metal storage container.
"d.a.m.n." I slid to my knees, handling the lock at the bottom. It was a heavy-duty steel padlock. "This is going to take me a little longer. You don't happen to have a Swiss army knife or something?"
His hand went to a pocket in his pants and retrieved one. "They come in handy." He shrugged. "If something I needed was in a lockbox, I had to break into it."
My shoulders fell. I thought for once I was bringing something to the table.
"You are a h.e.l.l of a lot faster than me." He sensed my letdown. "I never had to rely on this particular skill too often, so I never got good at it. To be honest, most of the time I ended by hacking the box with my axe instead."
I flicked the smallest file on the knife and started to work.
A man's voice hollered close by. "No, I was going to grab more sauce for the chili."
Ryker reacted instantly. His body collided with mine, taking me to the ground. A sense of deja vu took hold of me as his form covered mine. He tucked his arms around my head, pulling me fully underneath him. His weight pushed on me. I couldn't move.
"Ryker, I can't breathe." I couldn't even look to see if he had squashed Sprig.
"Shhh." His eyes were closed, his mouth against my ear.
Footsteps reached the gate. We were lying only feet away from this guy. In the open. How could he not see us?
"We have no more. They took it," a woman shouted. "s.h.i.+pment is coming tomorrow."
"Oh, right," he replied. The sound of his steps tapered away. Ryker took a breath and picked his head up, gazing over his shoulder at the gate.
"Okay. He's gone." He rolled off me. Taking the heat he carried with him.
"What the h.e.l.l happened?"
"What do you mean?"
I sat up. "We are in the open. There was no way he wouldn't have seen us."
"Air! Air!" Sprig wheezed from my bag. "If this is how it feels to be in a threesome with you guys, I pa.s.s." He took another hearty breath. "Hate to say this, Viking man, but good work."
Ryker leaned back on his arms. "I didn't know if I could do it. I was struggling."
"Am I the only one who doesn't know what's going on?"
"He glamoured the man's mind to not see us," Sprig said.
I knew about glamour and tricks fae could do to humans. I was immune since I could see through all their magic. "And if it didn't work?" My eyebrows rose in question.
Ryker smiled tightly. "I would've had to solve it another way."
I exhaled slowly and turned back to the lock, trying to release it.
"This is taking too d.a.m.n long." Sprig crawled out and went to the lock. He tapped on it, and it popped open. The memory of us crawling through the air vent in the DMG came back. He had unfastened those bolts in a blink of an eye. I was traumatized by all the events before and after and completely forgot about Sprig's magic.
"Is there anything else you can do?" I tugged off the lock.
"I am really good at decoupage."
"Not really what I meant."
"We don't have time for this." Ryker pulled me to my feet, opening the door halfway. I bowed and edged in, Sprig at my feet. I flicked on my flashlight as Ryker shut the door behind us.
"h.e.l.l," I groaned deeply. The shelves sat vacant.
"I think we can a.s.sume this is where Marcello came." Ryker stepped farther in. There were only a few items left: a few packages of socks, underwear, and towels. It was probably what they rationed to every person with a bed. I grabbed a few items.
"Taking from the needy?" Ryker baited.
"We are the needy." I shoved some men's boxers into my bag, along with their version of women's underpants. "I think it's humorous you keep thinking I have morals. Believe me, I don't." Maybe with Daniel I would have had hope, but optimism for my well-being died with him.
"You worked with DMG. I never thought you had morals, but you are proving to be a lot less uptight than I thought."
"Gee, thanks."
"That was a compliment, bhean. Take it!" Sprig zoomed to the top of the shelving.
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
"It means woman in Gaelic." Ryker grabbed the last couple of granola bars and stuffed them into my bag. "Let's get out of here."
Sprig hit my shoulder and climbed down my arm. "It's all cozy in here now." He fluffed the underwear and grabbed Pam, wiggling around before finally settling in.
There went clean underwear-monkey fur splayed all over the fabric.
But with the pure bliss on his face as he purred next to Pam, I couldn't be even remotely upset.
FOURTEEN.
Rain pelted us, the murky syrup in the streets sticking to our boots.
"Are we stopping soon?" Sprig inquired. "My brain is scrambled eggs now."
"Don't talk about food." I patted my stomach. The d.a.m.n thing only complained louder.
"Are you two done b.i.t.c.hing?"
"Right, the stoic Wanderer never gets tired or hungry or sleepy." I opened my arms. "Or gets cold or has any emotions besides p.i.s.sed off."
Silence.
Was I ruffling his feathers?
Ryker turned down an alley. Smoke billowed from a building oozing with the smell of food. I grabbed Ryker's arm. "We're going in there."
"No. We're not."
I rounded to face him. "Look, you can stay here in the cold. I am going to at least check it out. I am starving, freezing, and need to rest." I stood strong. Annoyance permeated his expression, but he didn't stop me.
The building was a large parking garage. Dozens of small groups sprinkled across the s.p.a.ce. Fires were built in trash cans, barrels, crates-whatever would hold the heat. It appeared to be a scene from a dystopia movie or one after some natural disaster. The government may claim the ES was a natural disaster, but a lot of people knew better. There was nothing natural about it. It was fae magic, an extraordinary level of magic. I still wondered why the fae had done it. What had they gotten from destroying Seattle? Had it made it easier for them to prey on us?
Evil f.u.c.king fae.
The garage was dry and warm. We weaved through the groups, some smelling extremely foul. "Why don't they go to the shelter?"
"Shelters only have so much s.p.a.ce. There are far more people than beds or food." Ryker kept close to me. A few men had turned to stare at me.
"Zoey? Zoey Daniels?" A smooth male voice came from beyond my shoulder. A jolt of surprise and fear wiggled along my spine, making me jump like a scared kitten.
A man in the group nearest us stood. His voice. The balding head and gray beard. I knew him well. I saw him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at 9 a.m. Countless mornings I would stare at the reflection of the fluorescent lights on his head while I sipped my latte.
"Mr. Kettenburg?"
"I think it's all right for you to call me Robert now." My psychology professor stood before me. His usual pants and b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt and tie were replaced with khakis, a colorful sweater, and a heavy coat. He looked dirty, hollow, and broken. He was not a skinny or a tall man, which made this a feat unto itself.
"Zoey, you did not show up for the test." He spoke sternly. He was the only teacher at the college whom I liked. His sense of humor made me take to him instantly. "I'm sorry, but it's unacceptable. Unless you make it up, you are going to fail my cla.s.s."
I nodded, looking at my feet. "The fact is I'm the only student who didn't fall unconscious the moment you opened your mouth and droll on for hours about our consciousness. I think you should let me slide." Three days a week we lived to give each other s.h.i.+t.
"You were always my favorite." A grin twitched at his mouth. "It's good to see you are all right."
I wanted to laugh. All right? I was far from okay.
He waved us over. "Come, join us. Meet my family. We were about to have some food. You look like you could use a meal."
A growl came from beside me, and I peered at Ryker. His eyes told me I'd better not accept the professor's invitation.
I swiveled back. "That would be nice. Thank you."
Ryker snarled, but I ignored him.
Kettenburg touched my shoulder. "This is... was a student of mine, Zoey Daniels. Zoey, this is my wife, Donna." He pointed at a woman in her fifties, sitting on the ground, leaning against a crate. Her styled blonde hair was streaked with dirt, along with her clothes. Her arm was injured, and a sling held it to her chest. She had a sweet round face, but it held a reserved expression. Her brown eyes glinted with pain.
"I apologize for not getting up." She motioned to her leg. "I am lucky I didn't lose it."
Kettenburg responded. "Our house was lost in the storm. Donna and my mother were the only ones home and barely escaped."
"I am so sorry."
She sniffed and blinked her lids, looking away.
"This is my sister, Marlene... her husband, Tom... my mother, Debbie... and my son, Andrew." He went around the rest of the circle. The faces all blurred together, except his son, who leaned forward to shake my hand. He appeared to be high school age and took after his father in height. He seemed the type who did very well in school but was still outgoing. His eyes lingered on my face with interest.
"Nice to meet you, Zoey," he said eagerly. I felt Ryker s.h.i.+ft behind me.
"Marlene and Tom's home was lost as well." Robert Kettenburg motioned to the pair. They were also around their fifties, a nice average-looking couple.
My mouth pressed together, not knowing what to say about their loss. Sorry sounded pathetic and useless.
"Please sit. You and..." Kettenburg stared expectantly at Ryker, waiting for one of us to introduce him.
How could I introduce Ryker? A friend seemed like a lie, and I didn't think I could get it past my lips. An acquaintance sounded weird, and partner sounded even worse. He would hate if I told them his name, but it would draw more attention if I didn't. "Ryker." I waved to him. Ryker still stood a distance from the group, a scowl fixed on his face.
They all gave him a pleasant greeting, but you could see he made them nervous and inclined to dislike him. I heartily agreed with them.
"May I talk to you a moment?" Ryker gritted through his teeth, not even trying to appear to be polite.