“She’s dead now.” Nate winced as a frayed wire pricked his palm. “I fixed the stove at the herbalist’s too.”
“Fix my alarm system. If you electrocute yourself and die,” Alden said, “you’re fired.”
“Does that mean you’re paying me?”
“No.”
Nate rubbed one of the oozing scratches along his ribs. “Then what do I get?”
“We can start with your life, dove. You’re clearly incapable of managing on your own.”
It took Nate five hours, but eventually he fixed the security system Alden had rigged to go off whenever someone approached the back stoop. Since he was already covered in grease and small cuts, Nate worked on the electricity too. He increased the power intake so Alden could run a few indoor lights—and his cooler box, if he was careful.
“You should put a switchpad on this door back here,” he told Alden that evening. “It wouldn’t be so hard with the right parts.”
“How do you know so much tinkering?” Alden asked from the doorway, slowly smoking an entire package of hand-rolled cigarettes that smelled like rot.
“My aunt taught me. She made the trains go fast.”
Alden laughed. “You’re adorable. Stay with me.”
A current of relief ran through Nate. Alden’s shop was well-established and secure. Nate would never find a safer place to stay.
“Fix things,” Alden went on. “I always have something that needs fixing.”
It only took Nate a few days in the curio shop to see that Alden pushed chem. Fiends came in wild-eyed, clutching credits or trading away jewelry and tech. Representatives from the pleasure houses bought in bulk, collecting huge bottles of pills that looked like chunks of sugar.
“And that, Natey,” Alden said, “is why you don’t take candy from strangers.”
When Nate didn’t keep busy enough, he let himself wonder what Alden would do with him if he knew what Nate was. Sometimes, people lingered in the shop, gossiping over cups of muddy tea. They talked about the city and the riches there. They whispered about people called Breakers who had piles of credits to give anyone who found a GEM and handed them over. Alden always laughed and sent them off forgetting what they’d wished for in the first place.
Alden got chem from all over, accepting deliveries in the back from toothless chemists with patchy hair and sores. He entertained in the basement, taking his guests downstairs and never, ever allowing Nate to follow.
“There are some places you oughtn’t go,” Alden said, playing with Nate’s hair.
Nate had given up on trimming it, and it hung shaggy and soft in his eyes.
Before Nate knew it, a year had gone by. He’d fixed enough things in Alden’s shop to develop a reputation for tinkering. Every few days, Alden’s clients dropped off broken tech for Nate to repair.
“Keep them,” Alden said when Nate showed him the palm full of credits he’d earned fixing things while Alden’s visitors spent long hours in the basement. He gave Nate a long look. “They’re yours.”
Nate was fifteen and running the register when an older boy stormed in, fit to take the front door off its hinges. Recognizing the haunted look in his pale-green eyes, Nate said, “Lemme grab Alden for you.”
“I’m not looking for chem. I’m looking for a boy—”
“We’re not that kind of establishment.” Alden pushed through the curtain from his side room. “The boys here aren’t for sale.”
The boy—broad-shouldered, almost a man—spoke to Nate as if he couldn’t hear Alden. “His name is July. He’s got short red hair, about this tall,” he said, patting his collar. “You see him, you tell him Reed is looking for him. His sister’s looking too. We only want to help.”
“This is touching.” Alden took an antique brush off the counter and ran it through the ends of his hair. “But if you’re not buying anything, I won’t have you loitering.”
“Alden,” Nate said, “he’s trying to find his friend.”
Alden smiled. “It’s a cold, ugly world. We’re all trying to find a friend.”
Reed wrenched the brush out of Alden’s hand and threw it across the room. It knocked over a display of beaded necklaces, and they shot across the counter, hissing along the glass. Alden’s eyes flashed with rage, but he held very still as Reed pushed him against the wall with a forearm to his throat.
Nate froze. He only had to reach out his fingers, and he’d have the stun gun in his hand, but he didn’t know how to use it. And Reed wasn’t hurting Alden. He was only holding him still.
