I stayed on the rooftop until my ass went numb from the concrete. Maki slept against my stomach, her twin tails twitching through whatever dreams three-hundred-year-old cat spirits had. Probably fish. Probably murder. Possibly both.
The pendant had stopped burning cold about twenty minutes after Natalia's voice message. Not because she'd calmed down. Because she was planning. The warmth that replaced the cold felt worse somehow. Like the eye of a hurricane. Like the moment before a gate boss finally decided you were worth killing.
I'm keeping score.
Four words. Four simple words that promised consequences I couldn't predict and probably couldn't survive. Natalia didn't do empty threats. She did spreadsheets. She did itemized lists of transgressions with corresponding punishments organized by severity and creative potential.
My phone buzzed again. Not Natalia this time.
Emi.
