for meeting Alberto Tácunan later today. But for now, there was just them and the understanding that sometimes people you loved betrayed you, and sometimes cutting them out of your lives was the only way to heal yourself, even if you lost a piece of your soul doing so.
Twenty-Nine
THEY NAPPED FOR A BIT, then ordered delivery. Kovit released Fabricio, and the three of them ate in silence, tense for what had to come next, the whole point of their trip to Buenos Aires in the first place.
In two hours, they were meeting Alberto Tácunan.
Fabricio’s whole body was tight with tension as he ate, and he kept staring blankly at the pizza and then shuddering slightly. Occasionally, he’d take slow, calming breaths, and Nita wondered what memories he was reliving that haunted his expression so. She thought of asking, but she didn’t think he’d answer. And she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know.
The walk to the hotel was quiet and charged. They had to stop at a few places for Nita to pick up supplies, and the whole time Fabricio’s shoulders were tight, and he hunched over slightly, trying to make himself smaller. His eyes flicked around, his expression a strange combination of terror and determination. Nita kept close to him in case he got cold feet and decided to make a break for it.
But he didn’t. His forehead gleamed with nervous sweat, but his mouth was set.
She wondered at the three of them, all terrified of the people who’d raised them, all warped and twisted and destroyed in some way or another by the black market as they grew up. She wondered if they were like trees that started growing sideways young and could never straighten out, would always be deformed in some way, or like chameleons, who could lose a tail and just grow themselves a new one given enough time.
As they walked, Nita noticed the hunters. Normal people on the way to work, their eyes nervous and sharp as they scanned the streets. Baristas in coffee shops, their eyes too focused on each person who came in, examining their features as though wondering, Is that the zannie?
A shorter, slightly round young man walking along got accosted a block ahead of them by two civilians, who demanded he take off his sunglasses prove he wasn’t a zannie. Nita could hear the man’s indignant protests, asking how they could mistake him for Thai when he was so obviously Argentinian.
Nita linked her arm with Kovit’s and turned them away. Kovit’s eyes didn’t leave the scene until they turned a corner, and his body was stiff with fear.
Walking together offered him some protection, since eyes passed over them, as though people couldn’t imagine a zannie traveling with others, or having a girlfriend, or whatever they looked like to the outside world.
But the Dangerous Unnaturals List was everywhere, printed and pasted on walls, up on everyone’s phones, and Nita shivered, wondering how many innocent people who resembled Kovit had already been attacked, like the girls who looked like Nita back in Toronto.
She tried not to think about it.
The hotel lobby was pristine and clear. Kovit fiddled with his sunglasses but didn’t take them off, even though they were indoors. It made him stand out, but it was still less risky than having him take them off and be recognized.
They headed to Almeida’s room. Nita had disposed of the diplomat’s body at the same time she’d disposed of Andrej’s body last night. She didn’t want the stench of rot to give away all their plans, and she didn’t want any bodies found in the hotel.
Of course, after tonight, she didn’t care if they found bodies. She just needed everything to look normal until she had the password from Alberto Tácunan.
Inside Almeida’s room, the faint smell of corpse remained, a combination of urine and a hint of rot. Nita found the smell of it comforting. Decay and death had always been her life’s work. And this death was a piece of her success.
Fabricio wrinkled his nose as he walked in, and Kovit closed the door behind them. They were early for the meeting, and Nita sat down on the single bed, the plush surface sinking beneath her. Kovit sat beside her and Fabricio made for the chair, but paused, looking closely at it.
“Is that blood?”
Nita shrugged. “Probably. We murdered a man there yesterday. I didn’t see the point in cleaning that part until we were done with your father, though.” She considered. “I hope