City of Light (Outcast 1)

“ID is not a problem. In fact, we could do it now. Branna, get the scanner.” As Branna made a noise not unlike a growl before he walked away, Nuri added, “Who is this friend of yours?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

She half shrugged. “I’m curious, because the timing seems . . . fortunate.”

“Fortunate how?”

“When you first came here”—she gestured at the room with one hand—“you reminded me somewhat of a feral cat—fierce, skittish, and distrustful of both Chaos and us. You had the air of someone who kept very much to herself, and who socialized little. With the living, anyway.”

As summations went, she’d pretty much nailed it. But then, she was a seeker, and no matter how much I’d tried to control my emotional output, she would nevertheless have caught the odd unguarded moment. Especially given she was also a witch of some power.

“And now?”

“The distrust remains, but there is more life in you. More . . . awareness and warmth, in a sense. It is as if a long-ignored part of you has come to life.”

Another good summation. Part of me had come to life, and the more time I spent with Sal, the harder it was going to become to get that part of me under control once this all ended.

The thought made me frown. Sal lived in Central—had for some time—so why did it have to end? I really didn’t know. Intuition might be part and parcel of being a seeker, but weaving together emotions and images and coming up with judgments was something so ingrained it became a subconscious activity rather than a conscious one. And sometimes, those judgments remained at a subconscious level.

So what had I picked up on Sal that made me think my association with him would not be long-term? Was it the change I sensed in him or merely caution?

I didn’t know, and that was worrying.

“I don’t see how all that relates back to my meeting.”

“I’m not sure myself,” she admitted. “It’s just a feeling. You, us, the missing children, the sudden appearance of an old friend in your life. I think they’re all linked, even if I can’t yet see or find the connecting threads.”

“I never said his appearance was sudden.”

She smiled. “There are some things in this world you don’t have to say. So, what is his full name? I think we should have him checked out, if for no other reason than to ensure he is the man you remember.”

I hesitated, but as much as I didn’t want to admit it, she was right. Meeting Sal might be nothing more than a coincidence, but when combined with that odd itch that Sal and I were not destined to be long-term, then yes, I needed to be careful.

“It’s Sal Casimir. He runs the Hedone brothel on First.”

Jonas’s eyebrows rose. “You do have some high-flying friends. Especially for someone who generally lives like a hermit.”

“Preferring the company of my ghosts is more a matter of caution rather than reclusion. And with welcomes like the one you gave me, can you blame me?” Though I tried to keep my voice mild, a touch of anger crept through regardless. Maybe Jonas’s attitude was catching. “And it certainly doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the occasional dalliance. Sal’s appearance was certainly fortunate in more ways than one.”

Amusement fleetingly touched his lips, and it transformed his weatherworn but ruggedly handsome features, lending him a warmth and vibrancy that was almost breathtaking. It was gone just as quickly as it appeared, but the memory of it lingered deep inside.

Branna returned, thumped some sort of scanner onto the table, then stomped off.

“Pleasant sort of chap, isn’t he?” I murmured, not sure whether to be amused or concerned about his continuing suspicion. It was deeper—angrier—than the disbelief I sensed in Jonas, and far more dangerous. And yet he seemed very much leashed. Nuri might have said she worked with these men, but when it came to Branna, she was at the controlling end of his chain.

“It is not in his nature to trust. It never has been.” Jonas reached for the scanner and pressed a small button. The scanner came to life, blue light gleaming softly from the device’s small screen. “It was a year before he began to speak to me with any degree of civility.”

“A year? I’m surprised you put up with that sort of attitude for more than even a few days.”

He smiled, but it was filled more with sadness and memories than warmth or humor. “That’s not something any of us really had any control over.”

I frowned. “Meaning you were forced into each other’s company? How?”

“That,” Nuri said heavily, “is a story for another day. “We’ve already set up an ID for you. All we have to do is scan in your image and physical attributes, and it will be good to go.”

I frowned. “What name did you give me?”

Amusement teased her lips. “Ti Zindela.”