Alyce stayed with her haunches pressed back against Sidney. She could still kick him out of the way. But she had told him she trusted him. She couldn’t run forever.
Even though running, kicking, and not trusting had kept her alive this long.
Sidney flattened his hand over her spine in a soothing caress and ducked in beside her. His big body crowded her across the seat. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
He pulled the door shut behind him, and Alyce’s ears rang from the compression. The space was so small, she had nowhere to go. Sidney reached for a strap on the other wall, and now he was pulling it toward her, reminding her of the men in the hospital who had bound her to the bed and wheeled her down the halls. Now the carriage was moving, moving, toward what …
“Alyce? Alyce, what’s wrong?”
She half crawled into his lap to avoid the gray snake of the strap. Her breath hitched and caught, then raced away without her. “Don’t. Do not tie me.”
“It’s just a seat belt,” Sidney said.
“Westerbrook,” Sera said with unruffled calm, “she’s immortal. I think we can skip the seat belt, hmm?”
He opened his mouth as if he might object; then he let go of the strap. It recoiled with a hiss. “Right.”
The vibrations of the car racked her. No, she was shivering.
Sidney settled his arm across her shoulders. “You don’t even notice the cold.”
“I’m not cold.” And still she shivered.
Sera exchanged glances with the devil-man beside her; then she smiled at Alyce. “It’s a little crazy, isn’t it?”
“I was never crazy.” Her voice shattered across three octaves, and the lowest rocked the carriage until the metal around them squealed.
Archer clamped both hands on the wheel in front of him. “Now who’s scaring her?”
Sidney tucked her closer under his arm. “Everybody be quiet for a second.”
The motion of the car still rattled her teeth, but the weight of Sidney’s arm seemed to press the fear out of her. Finally the car caught up with her runaway breath, and she let out a tired sigh.
Sidney stroked her hair. “Okay now?”
“Tell me again—what is ‘okay’?”
“Less loose cannon.”
She nodded against his shoulder. It was his bandaged arm, but he didn’t seem to notice.
From that shelter, she was able to look up at Archer and Sera. “Sidney said you are possessed by devils.”
Sera slanted a look at Sidney, then nodded. “We call them teshuva.”
“Sidney has given them so many names: malice, ferales, salambes, djinn.”
“Those are different,” Sera said. “You’re like us.”
Could she ever be as poised as the woman in front of her? Alyce shook her head.
“There’s so much we want to tell you, and even more we want to ask you,” Sera continued. “That’s why I said it’s … overwhelming.”
“Crazy,” Alyce whispered.
“Just because we don’t understand something right away does not mean it’s a danger,” Sidney said. His tone was instructive, as if he stood at a lectern, but his narrowed gaze on Archer held more meaning than his words.
Archer stared back at her in the small mirror above his head. “Although what we don’t know can kill us before we figure it out.”
Alyce met his eyes. “Sidney says I mustn’t kill anyone.”
“Well, isn’t that thoughtful of him.”
Sera elbowed Archer. “We promised them lunch. It’s not far to Therese’s.”
Sidney stiffened. “The diner at the pier? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Just because we don’t understand doesn’t mean danger.” The pitch of Archer’s voice was mocking.
“I am hungry,” Alyce offered. “I haven’t been to the pier since the fair.”
Sera gave her an encouraging look. “The art fair this summer? It was fun, wasn’t it? Lots of fried food and not too many tenebrae to fry in return.”
Alyce shook her head. “They called it the World Fair.”
Sidney’s arm over her shoulder twitched. “The World Fair? That was … a while ago.”
“That was 1933,” Archer said. “Great Depression years. Lots of tenebrae.”
Alyce straightened. “You were there?”
His eyes crinkled at the corners when he looked back at her. “Sorry—I must’ve missed you in the million-people crowd.”
“I am shorter than you.”
“I guess that’s why we’re feeding you.”
Sidney’s fingers twitched, tugging at her hair. “But … 1933?” His voice rose. “Alyce, how long have you been possessed?”
Alyce hunched under his agitated intensity, and Sera tsked. “Westerbrook, it’s never gentlemanly to ask a lady her age.” Her tone was teasing, but her half-shuttered gaze wasn’t.
Alyce closed her eyes. All the conflicting signals buffeted her. Why couldn’t they say and look and act just one way? Why did Sidney soothe her with his hands and chide her with his words? She already knew his mouth could be put to better use.
Fortunately, they were quiet again except for the rumble of the metal cage on wheels. She didn’t open her eyes until the light dimmed as they pulled into a building full of neatly aligned cars. When Sidney opened his door, she scrambled over his lap to get out.
Archer was already there, his hand braced on the door frame. His black trench coat fell around him like threatening wings, ready to flare.
She followed the shimmer of violet that chased around the dark lines on his hand. Devil-man.
“You wouldn’t leave before lunch, would you?” His voice dropped. “In the teshuva’s quest to atone for their sins, I think they become overzealous in their privation. But we are still human, if not only human. We deserve some pleasures.”
She tilted her head. “Even damned?”
“Especially damned.” He opened Sera’s door, and the mark across his knuckles flared as he held out his hand to her. She slid her palm across his and pulled herself into his embrace. Her long brilliant red coat flamed against the dark background of Archer.
Alyce watched from the corner of her eye. The aura that pulsed around them, invisible if she faced them straight on, deepened and darkened, shot through with lightning. Like a storm cloud just for them. Its energy tempted her closer and warded her off. Not for you, it whispered, but somewhere … someone …
“Alyce?” Sidney stepped out of the car, breaking her trance. “Come on. They’ll catch up.”
Archer snorted, and the two fell into step behind. “You know where you’re going, Westerbrook? Liam told London about our secret diner, but you haven’t actually seen it yet.”
“I heard enough,” Sidney growled.
Alyce tagged alongside, but a thread of unease tightened around her. There was more to this lunch than any of them was saying. “I know a place where the old women save bread for the ducks. There would be plenty for all of us.”
Sera’s mouth drew down. “What you do for this city, Alyce, deserves more than stale bread crumbs.”
When they passed between the cars into a hallway of shops, Sera walked beside Alyce. “So, do you usually run away from the devils?”
Alyce looked at her.
Sera grinned. “The purple in your eyes says no.” Her smile flattened with gravity. “Then don’t run from us. Not anymore.”
“You are all so loud,” Alyce said. “So big. So bright to my eyes and impatient. Like the city.”
Sera paused beside a recessed foyer that displayed windows brilliant with colored glass. The lettering on the doorway beyond said MUSEUM. “We’re like the glass. Sharp and cutting when we’re in pieces, but together we make something breathtaking.”
Archer walked to the next door and yanked it open. “If by breathtaking you mean we stop things from ever breathing again, then yeah.”