“Johrlac,” said Sarah, sounding not only tired, but suddenly depressed. Discussion of her actual species tended to have that effect on her. “No one knows where we come from, no one knows how to send us back there, and most people don’t know how to kill us. Everybody calls us ‘cuckoos,’ because a thing can be less scary when you have an easy name to hang on it. We steal lives, and then we end them. Is that what you think I am?”
“Please, I meant no offense,” whispered Sunil.
Sarah closed her eyes. “Verity . . .”
I stepped closer to her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sunil, Sarah is my cousin. Not by birth, maybe, but by adoption. Voluntaryadoption. My grandmother—her mother—is also a cuckoo. She raised my Mom. So my whole family is sort of resistant to the instinctive brainwashing. We like Sarah because she’s Sarah. We love her because she’s family. And she’s not going to hurt you. She’s here to hide from the Covenant, just like the rest of us.”
“I’ve always done my very best not to take advantage of the people around me,” said Sarah, opening her eyes and looking plaintively at Sunil. “It’s hard sometimes. You can’t even imagine how hard. But I swear, I’m not going to mess with your head.”
“This is . . .” Sunil frowned, finally straightening up. “I’ve never heard of a Johrlac deciding to live among others as one of them, and not as their master.”
“I do dishes, too,” said Sarah.
“Sunil!” Rochak reappeared from the direction of the kitchen, Mike tagging along behind him. Istas was nowhere to be seen, possibly because the kitchen now contained a great deal of unguarded gingerbread. I hoped that Mike had asked her to leave some for the rest of us. “Who’s this?”
“My cousin, Sarah,” I said, and braced for the explosion that was sure to follow.
It didn’t. Rochak stopped next to Sunil, looking speculatively at Sarah. Then he turned to me, and asked, “Your cousin is a Johrlac? How is that even biologically possible?”
“See, I’m a little more curious as to how you’re identifying her on sight, but yes, she is,” I said. “Is that going to be a problem?”
“No. I’m fully mature. She can’t get inside my head.” He put a hand on Sunil’s shoulder, turning back to Sarah. “If you hurt my brother, I will destroy you. Then I will find the rest of your hive, and destroy them as well.”
“I’m not going to hurt your brother, and I don’t have a hive,” said Sarah. “I just want this to be over before I miss too many classes.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” said Rochak.
I blinked. “Mature? What?”
“Madhura are immune to the lure of the Johrlac once we pass our third molt,” said Rochak. He nodded toward Sunil. “My brother has only passed his second.”
“Thanks for announcing that to the world, Rochak,” said Sunil, looking mortified.
“Don’t worry; the world has no idea what it means,” I said. “Uncle Mike, can you show them to an empty office? Not one of the ones to either side of Sarah, please, I think we’ll all feel better if we’re not stacking people on top of each other.” And maybe later, when all this was over, I could sit down with Rochak and grill him on exactly how the Madhura were able to resist the call of the cuckoo—something no other known species was able to do, except for possibly the Apraxis wasps, and those weren’t something we could sit down and talk to. Not unless we felt like being stung to death and used to feed the hive’s larvae.
“I’m on it,” said Mike. “If you two gentlemen would follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters—and to the bathroom, since you’re probably going to want that eventually.” He started toward the stairs. Sunil and Rochak followed him.
In a matter of seconds, Sarah and I were alone. I looked toward her. “You okay?” I asked.
She laughed unsteadily. “Oh, I’m dandy. This has been the bestnight. The Covenant of St. George has telepathy blockers on their people, so I won’t be able to hear them coming. I had to leave my hotel before I was ready, and I didn’t have time to finish my homework first. I’m going to miss class tomorrow, Artie’s freaking out and wants to fly to New York to panic at me in person, and now there are people who know what I am living in the same building as me.”
“I know what you are,” I protested. “I’ve always known.”
“You don’t look at me like that, Verity. You’ve neverlooked at me like that.”
I sighed. “Okay, fair. Look, you don’t have to stay here. You can go and stay with the dragons down in the sewers. You know William would be happy to have you.”
Sarah shook her head. “I can’t. Even if I was comfortable leaving you alone, which I’m not—”
“You don’t have to stay for my sake. I can take care of myself.”
“I don’t care if you think you can take care of yourself. I’m notleaving you,” Sarah repeated, more firmly. “But even if I was, there’s no Internet or cell service in the Nest. The dragons don’t consider it a priority. All their calls are made on an old landline the city put in for the municipal workers, and they’d slit their wrists before they paid for smart phones. If I drop off the grid like that, Artie will be on the next plane out of Portland, and I’m not going to be the reason he puts himself in danger. I can’t.”
“Right.” I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand. One day, those two are going to admit that they’re in love with each other. Until then, we’re all going to stay stuck in the middle of their not-a-relationship. “Well, then, I guess we’re all just going to have to cope.”
“Yeah,” agreed Sarah miserably. “We are.”
I got Sarah settled back in her room-slash-office, largely by promising to pick up some tomato juice the next time I had to go out of the Nest. Which was going to be soon; my feet were already starting to itch with the need to go, to run, to move. I’d been sitting still for hours—and being in the car while Uncle Mike drove us around New York didn’t count. It just made me feel even less like I was in control of the situation. Holing up and laying low might be the smart thing to do, but doing the smart thing has never been a Price family tradition. We’re more interested in running straight into the jaws of danger and daring it to bite down.
(There might be more of us among the living if danger weren’t so very willing to take us at our word and bite. That doesn’t change the fact that somebody has to do the job we do, and we’re uniquely qualified for it. We’ve been breeding to die this way for generations.)
The mice were still enjoying their celebration—or maybe they’d started a new one; it can be hard to tell with them. I peeked through the office window long enough to reassure myself that they weren’t about to set the place on fire or anything. Then I started moving again, heading for my own makeshift bedroom. I needed to know what was going on out in my city, and that meant I needed to be out, not dealing with evacuating the resident cryptids or getting my relatives out of the line of fire.
First things first: I stripped off the clothes I’d been wearing to go see Sarah and changed into my usual night-running gear: a skintight gray bodysuit that would render me virtually invisible in the shadows, a belt that always made me feel a little bit like Batman, since he’s sort of the platonic ideal of “person running around in spandex with their weapons around their waist,” and a cotton hoodie only slightly darker than the bodysuit. With the hood pulled up to hide my hair and face, I could disappear on the rooftops, becoming part of the scenery.
Combat boots and a backpack full of ammo, replacement knives, and climbing gear completed my preparations. I was loaded for bear—literally—and if I was lucky, that would translate into being loaded for Healy. If I was really lucky, the question would never come up.
I went thumping back down the stairs to the ground floor of the slaughterhouse. There was no one there. I took that to mean that they were still where I’d left them and walked toward the kitchen, using the stroll as an excuse to test the weight of my backpack. It was a little heavier than I would have liked, but it was perfectly balanced, and in the end, that mattered more than a few extra pounds. It’s not how much you’re carrying; it’s what you do with it. And I was planning on unleashing a world of hurt on anyone who got in my way.