Dawn couldn’t feel anything—she was too afraid to. “I thought I saw…felt…” What? What the hell had she felt besides hatred and vengeance?
For one second, while the adrenaline coursed through her, she’d felt like she had a purpose. She’d felt defined.
Tentatively approaching the woman, Dawn reached out to her. “I’m sorry. So sorry, here…let me—”
With an ear-stabbing screech, the woman sprang up, swiped at Dawn with her jagged fingernails and sprang away. She sprinted down the alley, erased by the darkness.
Dawn’s gaze settled on the woman’s meager belongings: an army bag with torn pants sticking out, a plastic tarp, a ratty, stuffed pink bunny rabbit with dead pink—not even red—eyes. The last item had a bloodstain on it, fresh, livid.
“We need to find her,” Dawn said, the words barely forming. “We should get her some medical aid—”
She took off running to the end of the alley. Have to find her, Dawn thought. Have to make sure she’s okay…
But when she arrived at the exit, she zipped her gaze back, forth, everywhere.
The woman was gone. Hiding? Where?
Footsteps slammed the pavement behind her, and without really feeling anything, Dawn recognized that a hand had landed on her shoulder, jerking her back into the alley.
It was Breisi, frantic, pissed as hell. “Don’t ever run off by yourself. What if she was bait for an ambush, or—”
“We’ve got to find her,” Dawn repeated.
“No.”
When Dawn looked at Breisi, she found her coworker angrier than she’d ever imagined. In back of her, Kiko finally arrived, slow to travel.
“Dawn, you know what’s at stake,” Breisi half whispered, but her soft tone was lethal. “We cannot tell a medical worker that you stabbed a woman with a martial arts weapon.”
“But you can give her some help,” Dawn insisted. “You’ve done it for me and Kik, with your gel….”
Looking torn, Breisi glanced around. She was only being careful, Dawn knew, only analyzing the risk of a trap. Gradually, Dawn forced herself to admit the necessity of pausing; she’d already done enough damage by reacting too quickly. Was she going to make it worse by leaving her team?
Kiko kept right on going past both Dawn and Breisi, clearly intent on finding the woman himself.
“Kik—” Dawn grabbed at his jacket, holding him back from the unknown.
He resisted, and Breisi stepped back in, holding his jacket, too, keeping him with them, just as Dawn was.
“You’re not to engage in anything, Kiko Daniels,” Breisi said. “We’ve been clear about that.”
He held up a finger, first to Breisi, then to Dawn, accusing them both with a heartbreakingly enraged grimace.
“You need my help,” he said, voice trembling. “You can’t stop me from giving it.”
Feeling dead again, Dawn shook her head. “You’re right. We do need you. But you’re not…”
How could she say it without mortifying him?
He finished for her. “I’m not up to it right now. You’ve told me. I’m a gimp, physically and mentally. But that’s just because you’re coddling me. If you’d let me loose, I could get us back on track….” He trailed off, probably because he, also, knew that he was lying to himself.
Without another word, he turned his back on them.
Slowly, Breisi put an arm around his shoulders, then guided him away, casting one last baleful glance at Dawn, who slowly followed, taking up their backs.
But before she turned the corner, she looked behind her, seeing the faint glow of the stuffed bunny’s eyes by the Dumpster.
The pink lights sputtered out.
ELEVEN
THE HAVEN
I N the clenched silence of the SUV, Dawn sat on the edge of her front seat, vainly inspecting the passing storefronts and sidewalks. “Can’t you slow down?”
Breisi complied as Kiko spoke up.
“If we haven’t found her by now, we’re not going to do it anytime tonight. The boss even said that none of the Friends can locate her. She’s gone where all the other faceless people in this town go: through the cracks.”
He’d grabbed the backseat, surrendering shotgun to Dawn, acknowledging that she needed the clearer view in this fruitless search. Lying flat on his back, he wore his sunglasses, as if blocking everything out.
“Kiko’s right,” Breisi said. “Chances are slim to none we’ll find her.”
“A slim chance is higher than zero.” Dawn swiveled her gaze back and forth, covering every streetlamp-lit patch of sidewalk and every shadow. This wasn’t over. Not until she made up for her mistake.
“We can anonymously look around to see if a woman of her description checked into any ERs,” Breisi said. “How is that?”
“Not enough.”