“You’re welcome, miss.”
Something familiar about his voice makes me glance up at the waiter to see his face for the first time. Until now, I’d been so distracted by the Politician that I hadn’t really looked at my savior.
My eyes widen in shock at the red haired, freckled-nosed face. It’s one of the twins, Dee or Dum.
The look he gives me is one of blank professionalism. Absolutely no sign of recognition or surprise.
Wow, he’s good. I never would have guessed it based on my interactions with him before. But they had mentioned that they were Obi’s spymasters, hadn’t they? I assumed they were joking or exaggerating, but maybe not.
He gives a little bow and drifts away. I keep expecting him to turn around and flash me a mischievous grin but he walks stiff-backed and offers drinks to people. Who would have thought?
I casually step behind a crowd to hide myself from the Politician. Did Dee-Dum know that he was rescuing me or was that a happy coincidence?
What’s he doing here? An image of Obi’s caravan winding its way up to the city comes back to me. The truck full of explosives. Obi’s plan to recruit resistance fighters by making a showy stand against the angels.
Great. Just great. If the twins are here, they must be scoping out the place for their counter attack.
How much time do I have to get Paige out of here before they blow the place to Kingdom Come?
CHAPTER 31
After a brief conversation, the Politician leaves the warriors’ booth. To my relief, he cuts across the club instead of coming toward me. He seems to have forgotten all about me as he makes his way through the club, stopping here and there to say hello.
Everyone watches him go. No one in the crowd near me speaks for a few moments. Then, the conversation begins tentatively, as if unsure whether it’s okay to talk. The warriors at the table drink grimly and silently. Whatever was said by the Politician, they didn’t like it.
I wait until the conversation rises to full volume again before I go back to approaching the albino. Now that I know the resistance is here, I feel an extra surge of urgency to get things rolling.
Still, I hesitate on the outskirts of the river of women. There’s a female-free zone around the albino. Once I step into it, it will be hard not to be noticed.
The angels seem more interested in socializing with one another than with the women. Despite their best efforts, the women are being treated like fashion accessories to the angels’ costumes.
When the albino turns my way, I catch a glimpse of what keeps the women at bay. It’s not his utter lack of pigment, although I’m sure that would put off some people. These women, after all, aren’t put off by men with feathers growing out of their backs, and who knows where else. What’s a little lack of pigment to them? But his eyes. One glimpse of those peepers and I understand why the humans stay away.
They are blood red. I’ve never seen anything like it. His pupils aren’t like any pupil I’ve ever seen either. They are so large they take up most of his eyes. A solid ball of crimson surrounded by a pink ring of irises shot through with white like miniature lightning bolts sizzling over blood. Long ivory lashes frame the eyes, as if they aren’t noticeable enough already.
I can’t help but stare. I look away, embarrassed, and notice other humans snatching nervous glimpses of him as well. The other angels, despite all their terrible aggression, look like they were made in Heaven. This one, on the other hand, looks like he walked right out of my mother’s nightmares.
I’ve had more than my fair share of being around people whose physical appearance is unnerving. Paige was a very popular kid in the disabled community. Her friend Judith was born with stumpy arms and tiny, malformed hands; Alex wobbled when he walked and had to contort his face painfully to form coherent words which often let out an embarrassing amount of drool; Will was a quadriplegic who needed a pump to keep him breathing.
People stared and skirted around these kids the way humans behave around this albino. Whenever a particularly bad incident happened to any member of her flock, Paige gathered them together for a theme party. A pirate party, a zombie party, a come-as-you-are party where one kid showed up in pajamas with a toothbrush in his mouth.
They’d joke and giggle and know in their bones that they were strong together. Paige was their cheerleader, counselor, and best friend all rolled into one.