Escape routes. Visibility. A sense of place.
Dozens of security cameras peppered the side of the building, and she really hoped Diana could hack them—otherwise, their break-in was going to be very short and very unsuccessful.
Kovit went inside and checked the public floor plan. He came back out and shrugged. “It looks like they’re only in three floors of the building. But it’s called the Tácunan Building, so I’m guessing Alberto Tácunan owns it and leases out the other floors.”
Nita nodded. That would make sense. It would both provide more money, as well as a good cover and front of respectability.
But it also meant that when she stole the information, the chance of other people being in the building was high. And she didn’t want witnesses.
“Any other companies in there we should be aware of?” she asked.
“I took a photo.”
He showed it to her, and she peered at the names with suspicion, but she didn’t recognize any of them. They could be anything from harmless accounting firms to fronts for more of Tácunan Law’s illegal operations. She made a frustrated sound at how useless all this was.
As they headed away, Nita was so lost in thought, she almost didn’t hear the beep of her phone. She pulled it out, thinking it was Diana with more information on the security cameras, but it wasn’t.
A small notification alert informed her that a new name and face had been uploaded by INHUP’s Dangerous Unnaturals List division.
It was Kovit.
Twenty
NITA STARED at the screen, unwilling to believe it.
Kovit’s face and name were up on INHUP.
She clicked on the link, just to confirm, because maybe it was a mistake, it was too soon, there was supposed to be a week waiting period, this wasn’t supposed to happen. But she knew even before the INHUP page loaded that it wasn’t a mistake.
The entire world was going to be hunting for him now. Millions of people subscribed to the same alerts she did. And those who didn’t would watch the news tonight and see Kovit’s face—it was rare for someone to be added to the list—so it always ended up being a big story. Most of the time, the police killed monsters before this kind of thing needed to go public.
She imagined all the people sitting in their homes as the news told them the atrocities Kovit had committed, their eyes glued to the screen as they watched the videos that Henry sent to INHUP. In her mind’s eye, the citizens swarmed over Kovit like a horde of zombies, hands grabbing, hungry for state-sanctioned blood. Kovit would flick out his switchblade, but it wouldn’t be enough to fight them all off. Eventually he’d be crushed by the press of bodies, and then he’d be the one screaming in videos posted online.
Nita forced her mind away from that image. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
“Nita? What is it? Is something wrong?” Kovit asked, leaning over and trying to see what she was staring at.
She winced. A part of her wanted to hide it, to shove her phone in her pocket, lie, and say it was nothing. Pretend that everything was all right. But she wouldn’t let herself be that person. She wouldn’t hide this from Kovit, she wouldn’t become the manipulating information hoarder her mother was.
So she raised her head, and tried to tell him. But the words wouldn’t come, they caught in her throat like she’d swallowed an egg whole.
She held out her phone, wordless, and he looked down at the notification. She’d only looked at the top, where the picture was, too scared to scroll down and see what details they’d put in about him. He looked a bit younger in the photo, maybe fifteen or sixteen, but it was very distinctly him. In the picture, his eyes were narrowed at something offscreen, his head tilted at a three-quarter angle, and the slightest hint of a sneer pulled at his features. It was not a flattering photo.
He stared at the picture a long moment, his face terrifyingly still. Then he leaned against the concrete barrier protecting people from falling into the water and slowly slid down so he was crouched against it, a small, soft keening sound emanating from his throat.
Nita knelt beside him, hovering, wishing she could do something but not knowing what to do.
“I’m sorry,” she finally managed, her voice cracked and broken. “I’m so, so sorry.”
His face broke, that perfect stillness shattering into a million glittering shards of grief. “Why is it out early?”
“I