crossed the kitchen to the balcony. “What amazing ears you have.”
He shrugged. “Everything’s relative. Compared to canines we’re practically deaf.”
“It’s pretty out here in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said. “More importantly, it’s quiet and no one’s going to show up wanting something.”
“I’m sorry. I was just going to go back to bed and not bother you…”
“No. I didn’t mean you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come sit.” He patted the arm of the chair next to him. “You anxious about work tomorrow?”
She laughed quietly. “Maybe. Who would have thought I’d be excited about cookies?”
“Well,” he took a drink of whatever was in the glass he was holding, trying not to notice Ana’s scent as she brushed past him to sit, “cookies are really, really, really good.”
“They are unless the ingredients are botched or they’re burned to a crisp. If it turns out okay, I’ll bring you some. You can be my test subject. What’s your favorite kind?”
“Oatmeal raisin,” he said without hesitation.
“Oatmeal raisin it is then.” She crossed her fingers in the air. “Fingers crossed.”
“Is that a superstition? Finger crossing?”
“Yeah. For luck.”
“Don’t worry, Ana. You’re not going to need luck. I have a feeling you’ll make a success of whatever you want to do.”
She wanted to ask him to elaborate on why he thought that. She didn’t think she’d given him any particular reason to believe she could be a success at anything other than sleeping late and sitting in the park. But she decided, at that moment in the still of the night, that his was the greater need.
“What happened today? Do you want to talk about it? Can you talk about it?”
He let out a big sigh. “Confidentially?”
“Definitely. I’m good at secrets.”
He looked over at her with an arched brow. “Oh yeah?” He gave her a smile that even human eyes could appreciate in the dim light. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you kept mine.
“The truth is I’m failing at this. The city is so tense you can feel it all the way up here. It’s all going to blow up in our faces, the painstaking integration and cooperation with humans so that we can all live in peace. It’s all going to blow up and it’s going to be my fault because I can’t find the killer. There’s one guy out there,” he waved toward the cityscape, “who wants to bring down what we’ve built. He knows what he’s doing. He’s the deliberate engineer of a catastrophe that could put us all right back where we started.
“No. Not where we started. If the suspicion and fear escalates to blood in the streets, it’s the humans who’ll lose. Because Exiled aren’t ever going to be captive again.”
Ana was quiet for a few beats. “Do you think it’s one of you? The killer, I mean? Or do you think it’s a human trying to make it look like a hybrid killing?”
Crave took another drink before saying, “What do you think?”
“I think it’s probably a human trying to make it look like a hybrid.”
“Why?”
“Because hybrids know how to use weapons. The killer could just as easily use a knife and deflect suspicion. He, or she, wants everyone to think it’s a hybrid. Except that, if the killer is female, she would have to be hybrid. Human females aren’t strong enough to kill full grown boys.”
“Sounds about right. You have a motive? A reason why a human might want to commit a string of murders and have the indicators point to a hybrid perpetrator?”
“Well, yeah. The Racial Purity League.”
“You know about them?”
“Of course. If you spend enough of time in the park, you get to know everything about Farsuitwail.”
Charming laughed. “That so?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Maybe I should be employing you as my park mole. Somebody who’s a designated bench sitter to keep me informed.” He winked.
“Mock me all you want, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea if your
He shrugged. “Everything’s relative. Compared to canines we’re practically deaf.”
“It’s pretty out here in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, it is,” he said. “More importantly, it’s quiet and no one’s going to show up wanting something.”
“I’m sorry. I was just going to go back to bed and not bother you…”
“No. I didn’t mean you.” He looked over his shoulder. “Come sit.” He patted the arm of the chair next to him. “You anxious about work tomorrow?”
She laughed quietly. “Maybe. Who would have thought I’d be excited about cookies?”
“Well,” he took a drink of whatever was in the glass he was holding, trying not to notice Ana’s scent as she brushed past him to sit, “cookies are really, really, really good.”
“They are unless the ingredients are botched or they’re burned to a crisp. If it turns out okay, I’ll bring you some. You can be my test subject. What’s your favorite kind?”
“Oatmeal raisin,” he said without hesitation.
“Oatmeal raisin it is then.” She crossed her fingers in the air. “Fingers crossed.”
“Is that a superstition? Finger crossing?”
“Yeah. For luck.”
“Don’t worry, Ana. You’re not going to need luck. I have a feeling you’ll make a success of whatever you want to do.”
She wanted to ask him to elaborate on why he thought that. She didn’t think she’d given him any particular reason to believe she could be a success at anything other than sleeping late and sitting in the park. But she decided, at that moment in the still of the night, that his was the greater need.
“What happened today? Do you want to talk about it? Can you talk about it?”
He let out a big sigh. “Confidentially?”
“Definitely. I’m good at secrets.”
He looked over at her with an arched brow. “Oh yeah?” He gave her a smile that even human eyes could appreciate in the dim light. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you kept mine.
“The truth is I’m failing at this. The city is so tense you can feel it all the way up here. It’s all going to blow up in our faces, the painstaking integration and cooperation with humans so that we can all live in peace. It’s all going to blow up and it’s going to be my fault because I can’t find the killer. There’s one guy out there,” he waved toward the cityscape, “who wants to bring down what we’ve built. He knows what he’s doing. He’s the deliberate engineer of a catastrophe that could put us all right back where we started.
“No. Not where we started. If the suspicion and fear escalates to blood in the streets, it’s the humans who’ll lose. Because Exiled aren’t ever going to be captive again.”
Ana was quiet for a few beats. “Do you think it’s one of you? The killer, I mean? Or do you think it’s a human trying to make it look like a hybrid killing?”
Crave took another drink before saying, “What do you think?”
“I think it’s probably a human trying to make it look like a hybrid.”
“Why?”
“Because hybrids know how to use weapons. The killer could just as easily use a knife and deflect suspicion. He, or she, wants everyone to think it’s a hybrid. Except that, if the killer is female, she would have to be hybrid. Human females aren’t strong enough to kill full grown boys.”
“Sounds about right. You have a motive? A reason why a human might want to commit a string of murders and have the indicators point to a hybrid perpetrator?”
“Well, yeah. The Racial Purity League.”
“You know about them?”
“Of course. If you spend enough of time in the park, you get to know everything about Farsuitwail.”
Charming laughed. “That so?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Maybe I should be employing you as my park mole. Somebody who’s a designated bench sitter to keep me informed.” He winked.
“Mock me all you want, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea if your
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