Everfound (Skinjacker 3)

“We save our own hides,” Jill said. “That’s what we do.”

Unfortunately, Jill had trouble taking her own advice.

Jix found that his own exotic look had given him an advantage. Instead of being corralled with the other prisoners, he was brought directly to the Neon’s leader. The kid was no older than fourteen, and beneath the streaks of war paint, he had bad skin with a whole host of whiteheads that yearned to pop, but never would. His greasy black hair looked like it had been cut by his mother, and his braces were caked with whatever he was eating when he died. Could be Oreos. All in all, he was definitely the kind of kid that got picked on while he was alive—but now, he got to be the bully.

Jix stood before him with beefy Neon guards holding him on either side, all of them shuffling their feet to keep from sinking into the living world.

“What are you?” Zit-kid asked.

“I am a son of the jaguar gods,” Jix announced, trying to be intimidating. “And you have angered them.”

Zit-kid was not concerned. He looked to the glass coffin that several of his Neon Nightmares now carried.

“Who’s the girl in the glass box?” he demanded.

Jix considered how he might respond, and one of the kids holding Jix smacked him. “Avalon asked you a question! Answer it!”

Jix growled, but held his temper. “She’s the one with the answers,” Jix told Avalon.

“What answers?”

“The answers to all of your questions. She is the all-knowing Eastern Witch.”

Avalon, the zit-kid, was still unimpressed. “Never heard of her.” He scratched his volcanic face, smudging some of his war paint. Jix noticed that his paint was slightly different. In addition to the bright streaks, he also had a silver W on his forehead.

“We already know all the answers,” he said. “At least, we will when we have enough coins. You gotta coin?”

Jix shook his head.

“All right, then.” Avalon motioned to his comrades. “Keep the girl in the box, and send the cat-kid downtown.”

The two Neon guards began to push on Jix’s shoulders, forcing him into the earth, making it very clear what they meant by ‘downtown.’

“No!” someone shouted off to their right.

Jix turned to see Jill climbing down from the top of the mansion and she ran to them. One of the Neons tried to grab her, and she elbowed him in the nose, then made a beeline to Avalon.

“I’ve got a coin!”

“Don’t!” yelled Jix. “They won’t bargain—they’ll just take it.”

But she ignored him. “I’ll trade you. My coin for his freedom.”

“Search her,” ordered Avalon, but she didn’t give them a chance. She pulled the coin out of her pocket and held it up to Avalon. He looked at it with suspicion, then cautiously took it from her, holding it by the tips of his fingernails, then dropped it into the pocket of his T-shirt.

“All right, then,” he said. “Send them both downtown.” Then he turned and walked away.

“Push me down, and you’ll never find the other coins!” Jill said. That caught his attention.

“You’re lying.”

“Oh, yeah? I can get you another coin right now.”

He hesitated—and even Jix wondered if she were bluffing, but he decided not to interfere with Jill’s scheme. He watched and waited to see how it would play out.

“Show me,” said Avalon.

The guards plucked Jix, who was down to his knees, back to the surface, and Jill led them all toward the sleeping car, still lying sideways across the tracks.