As I approached the center of the warehouse, there were a series of real walls, but all with open doors. Stepping through one, I noted the signs of living. A doll, a felt checkers set, and a cot. A pile of blankets, nicer quality than anything I’d seen except inside the castle. Considering I liberated them from the castle for this place, it made sense.
I stayed out of the rooms that held more significant piles of bedding, and stopped when I reached the last doorway. In the center of the room sat a cage, an iron one, just large enough to keep one adult, maybe two. This was the same cage where my adoptive mother and one of her mates had been entrapped, years before. Now, it was decorated with chains of paper dolls and holly for Solstice. It was almost pretty, but the reminder of what it really was glinted in the iron bars that still showed through the decorations.
“They always want us in cages,” I said softly.
“That’s why we learn ta pick locks,” a small voice replied at my side. I took the little girl’s hand in mine, and smiled down at her.
“You remembered the code words,” I murmured. “Good job, Gert.” Her gap-toothed grin made my heart twist. “Where’s your mom?”
“In the kitchen,” she said, a dirty stuffed bunny hanging from her other hand. She held it over her nose as she went on. “Can’t you smell it? It’s cabbage day. I hate cabbage day. Bunny does, too.”
I slipped a small, paper-wrapped taffy out of one of my cloak pockets. “If you eat this after, it makes the burps not so bad.”
“What about Bunny?” Her lower lip trembled.
“You little rascal. Nicely done.” I handed her another sweet. “If you’d managed a genuine tear or two, you might have gotten the whole bag.”
“Then what would I have to steal outta your pocket later?” She grinned and skipped away.
“What’re you doing here, Ratter? You said you’d come tomorrow.” Verity stepped out from behind a sheet, a small group of young boys and girls following her, their footfalls soft in stocking feet. Her long brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun, and she wore a set of gray trousers and a matching shirt, with a hand-knitted sweater that had more lumps and missed stitches than pattern. One of the kids here had made it, I figured.
“Spot inspection,” I answered with a wink. “I’m impressed with how quiet this lot was. Also, how invisible. I didn’t catch a glimpse of a single one until I said the code words.”
A few more children wandered closer. They stared up at me with a combination of trust, hope, and humor, though some of the newer ones still hung back. And they all carried a kernel of cynicism in their expression, even the youngest.
These children had been hurt, often by the very ones who were meant to protect them. The ones the Goddess had put on this continent to watch over the vulnerable, but who frequently and inexplicably turned to prey on those they should love.
Alphas.
Every one of these children was on the run from an Alpha… as were their mothers. Like me and my birth mother had been. I’ddone everything I could to keep what happened to us from happening again, to make safe places and safer streets, in memory of her sacrifice.
I sighed heavily now. How was I going to protect them all the way from Verdan? Starlak?
How long until it’s you?my inner voice murmured.Where will you hide? Like a rat, in a place that smells of mildew and old fish, like this one?
A surge of rage filled me. I wasn’t going to spend my life hiding, even if it meant I had to kill a thousand more Alphas to make it safe. Ten thousand. What I truly wanted was to learn how to change the world, not just destroy it. But in a pinch, mass murder would do.
“Ratter, what’s wrong?” Verity paid closer attention than almost anyone to the moods of those around her. I needed to distract her, or she’d have the news from me, and the whole crew would know within ten minutes.
And I wasn’t ready for that. I needed to put something in place first.
Time for a distraction. “I may or may not have had to rescue a prince from plunging to his death atop this very building.” The children around me gasped.
“Dash?” Verity’s face went pale, and her deep green eyes glimmered with panic. “Is he…”
I rolled my eyes. “I caught him.”
“He was on theroof?” Her voice went squeaky. “What was he doing up there?”
“Lurking,” I told her. “You were followed, Princess Verity. I’ll be assigning extra nighttime shifts for that.” She knew I was serious when I used her official title. Verity had talked the king into making her a princess when she was only five years old, with enormous eyes and a lisp that was a more powerful weapon than a dozen daggers. A shame she’d outgrown it.
“Yes, Ratter,” she groaned, slumping to sit on a pillow. She pulled a knife out from under her sweater and began twirling itbetween the fingers of her hand faster than the eye could track. She only did that when she felt really wretched.
I sat next to her. “Want to tell me what’s up with that?” She fidgeted, which was highly unusual, but didn’t answer. “Let’s try that again. Tell me, Verity, what’s going on.”
“Well, there’s a boy I like,” she began. I nodded at the other children to back away. Suddenly, I wasn’t concerned about Dash anymore.
“Who’s this boy? Is he here? Have I met him?”
