through the look, and call the police. They’d surround him, dozens of cars, dozens of men in blue, guns raised high. And Kovit would look up at the sky, hopelessness writ large in those beautiful black eyes.
And he’d die.
Kovit’s information was going up online in one week, and there was absolutely nothing Nita could do about it.
Nine
NITA AND PATCHAYA got off at Spadina station. As they rode the escalator up, Nita checked her cell phone for texts, but there was no reception. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants.
Patchaya chewed her lip, a small furrow between her brows.
“Deep in thought?” Nita asked.
“Trying to think of anything I can do to stop this.” She shook her head. “Short of somehow getting rid of the whole Dangerous Unnaturals List, I don’t know how we’d stop it.”
Nita blinked.
Get rid of the whole list.
Adair, the information broker she’d stayed with until yesterday, had told her that the list had been built corrupt, that the only creatures on it were the ones with body parts valuable on the black market. That the list wasn’t there to protect people as INHUP claimed, but to make people money. That the creation of the list was, in and of itself, leading the monsters on it to commit crimes. After all, if it was a crime to be born, there was no legal way to live your life, so you had to turn to illegal ones. A vicious cycle of making monsters.
But if the list weren’t there . . . well, a lot of problems would be solved.
But how could she get rid of the list?
“Are you okay?” Patchaya asked.
Nita gave her a tight smile. “Fine. Just thinking. Trying to find other ways out of this.”
“I’ll look into it. I don’t think I can do anything, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t at least try.”
Nita nodded, but her mind was already past her plan to use Patchaya and working on something much better.
At the top of the escalator, people bustled through the station, shoes clicking on the tiled floors as they passed through a series of metal turnstiles. A bored attendant sat in a booth, and the faint hum of guitar music from the busker in one corner echoed just under the hubbub.
On the other side of the turnstiles, Kovit waited for them.
He was staring at his phone nervously, and he kept running a hand through his hair, mussing it. They’d agreed that if Nita deemed contact safe, she’d bring his sister here, and if she didn’t, then Nita would come alone.
Patchaya paused at the turnstile. “I really should get back.”
Nita raised her eyebrows. “Don’t you want to see Kovit?”
Patchaya froze, mouth open, and in that instant, Kovit saw them. He swallowed, and then came over, his footsteps slow and heavy.
Patchaya turned and met his eyes. Her gaze flicked over his face, examining all the changes, placing the face of the young man in front of her over that of the boy from her past.
He gave her a frightened, tentative smile, voice hoarse. “Pat?”
Her face crumpled, and she threw herself through the turnstile and embraced him. “Kovit.”
Kovit froze for a second before wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder. Both of their chests heaved softly, and Nita couldn’t tell if they were laughing or sobbing.
Nita stepped back, suddenly feeling like an intruder. She wondered what it would be like to have a sibling who loved her that much. Who was willing to risk everything just to see her, who wept when they were reunited. She tried to imagine anyone in her life caring about her that much, and she couldn’t. Her mother wasn’t the emotional type. Her father . . . her father was gone. Murdered by a vampire while Nita was trapped in Death Market. A vampire Nita still needed to find and take her vengeance on.
No, there was no one who would care about Nita that way. She’d never really wanted a sibling before, but seeing the grief and love in Kovit’s and Patchaya’s faces, her heart ached like she’d missed out on something precious.
Patchaya pulled away and brushed a strand of Kovit’s hair from his face. “Look at you, all grown up.”
“Speak for yourself.” Kovit’s smile was a bit crooked. “Look at you, all old. You even have a gray hair.”
She swatted his shoulder. “I’m only twenty-five, you brat.”
Kovit laughed, light and free.
Patchaya said something in Thai, her smile still wide.
For a moment, Kovit’s face was blank, and