but then there was nothing. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.
It was faintly windy, and a crumpled paper towel tumbled down the street, bouncing around as if invisible fingers were flicking it along. A newspaper flapped against the street post, trapped by the metal base. A hissing sound caught her attention, and she looked up just as something black streaked past, above her head. A bird? A bat? Or something that didn't belong in the city?
Her skin prickled in fear, and she looked back at the doorway. Nothing moved this time. Nothing at all. Just a shadow —
Something moved to her left, and she spun around, searching the tiny fenced yards of the brownstones that flanked her street. A squirrel sprang out of the bushes and bolted across the street, moving fast, too fast. Since when did squirrels come out at night?
No. She needed to chill. There was nothing out in the street tonight. It had been only five hours since her appearance on the balcony. Not enough time for word to get out. Not enough time for anyone to find her. She was being ridiculous, letting old fears rule her.
God, she'd forgotten what it felt like to feel so jittery. She hated that José still had that kind of power over her, even though she was thousands of miles away and he was dead. But even as she thought it, a flicker of worry settled in her gut. Was he dead? Truly? He had to be.
But she didn't know for sure.
She forced herself to turn away and start walking down the street again, trying to stay calm. But she couldn't keep herself from walking quickly, and she couldn't keep herself from looking into every shadow, and jumping each time one seemed to move. The clouds were heavy across the moon, making the shadows drift and dance. Once, she had loved the shadows. They had provided cover for her. Now all she could think was that they provided cover for something else. For someone else. For the nightmare that had never left her.
As she hurried down the quiet street, she slipped her hand into her bag and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger. She couldn't exactly run around holding it ready in the streets of Boston, but she would be prepared if she needed it.
She covered the last two blocks to her house at a run. Each time she looked back, shadows moved. Trash whipped past her, driven by the wind. A soda can banged against her ankle, making her jump. Even as she chastised herself that her fear was groundless, she vaulted up the six stairs to her building in one leap, no longer calm enough to hide the athleticism that an ordinary human should never have.
She jammed her key into the lock on the front door and slipped inside. The light in the entryway was out, casting an eerie dark glow around the foyer. She swallowed, knowing that in the six months she'd been here, no light had ever been out. She'd chosen to live in this building because the man in charge of maintenance lived on site, and he was fanatical about keeping it up.
And now the light was out.
Her heart pounding, she raced up the stairs to her third floor apartment. More lights were out in the hallway, and the stairs creaked under her feet. Had they always made so much noise? She'd never noticed it.
No lights shined under the doors of her neighbors. They were all asleep. She felt completely alone, even in this building full of people. She reached her apartment door and slipped her key inside the lock. She turned it but when she went to grasp the doorknob, the metal was cold. It felt as cold as if it had been outside in a cold Boston winter, not inside in a stuffy old brownstone.
She jumped, even as she forced herself to smile. Because it was not cold that came with her nightmares. It was heat. A cold doorknob should make her feel better, not worse. But right now everything felt off, and everything that wasn't as it should be felt dangerous.
She hurried into her studio apartment, and all the lights were blazing, as they always were. Every closet door was open, every cabinet
It was faintly windy, and a crumpled paper towel tumbled down the street, bouncing around as if invisible fingers were flicking it along. A newspaper flapped against the street post, trapped by the metal base. A hissing sound caught her attention, and she looked up just as something black streaked past, above her head. A bird? A bat? Or something that didn't belong in the city?
Her skin prickled in fear, and she looked back at the doorway. Nothing moved this time. Nothing at all. Just a shadow —
Something moved to her left, and she spun around, searching the tiny fenced yards of the brownstones that flanked her street. A squirrel sprang out of the bushes and bolted across the street, moving fast, too fast. Since when did squirrels come out at night?
No. She needed to chill. There was nothing out in the street tonight. It had been only five hours since her appearance on the balcony. Not enough time for word to get out. Not enough time for anyone to find her. She was being ridiculous, letting old fears rule her.
God, she'd forgotten what it felt like to feel so jittery. She hated that José still had that kind of power over her, even though she was thousands of miles away and he was dead. But even as she thought it, a flicker of worry settled in her gut. Was he dead? Truly? He had to be.
But she didn't know for sure.
She forced herself to turn away and start walking down the street again, trying to stay calm. But she couldn't keep herself from walking quickly, and she couldn't keep herself from looking into every shadow, and jumping each time one seemed to move. The clouds were heavy across the moon, making the shadows drift and dance. Once, she had loved the shadows. They had provided cover for her. Now all she could think was that they provided cover for something else. For someone else. For the nightmare that had never left her.
As she hurried down the quiet street, she slipped her hand into her bag and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of her dagger. She couldn't exactly run around holding it ready in the streets of Boston, but she would be prepared if she needed it.
She covered the last two blocks to her house at a run. Each time she looked back, shadows moved. Trash whipped past her, driven by the wind. A soda can banged against her ankle, making her jump. Even as she chastised herself that her fear was groundless, she vaulted up the six stairs to her building in one leap, no longer calm enough to hide the athleticism that an ordinary human should never have.
She jammed her key into the lock on the front door and slipped inside. The light in the entryway was out, casting an eerie dark glow around the foyer. She swallowed, knowing that in the six months she'd been here, no light had ever been out. She'd chosen to live in this building because the man in charge of maintenance lived on site, and he was fanatical about keeping it up.
And now the light was out.
Her heart pounding, she raced up the stairs to her third floor apartment. More lights were out in the hallway, and the stairs creaked under her feet. Had they always made so much noise? She'd never noticed it.
No lights shined under the doors of her neighbors. They were all asleep. She felt completely alone, even in this building full of people. She reached her apartment door and slipped her key inside the lock. She turned it but when she went to grasp the doorknob, the metal was cold. It felt as cold as if it had been outside in a cold Boston winter, not inside in a stuffy old brownstone.
She jumped, even as she forced herself to smile. Because it was not cold that came with her nightmares. It was heat. A cold doorknob should make her feel better, not worse. But right now everything felt off, and everything that wasn't as it should be felt dangerous.
She hurried into her studio apartment, and all the lights were blazing, as they always were. Every closet door was open, every cabinet
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