Tanner opened the rear door so that Knox and Harper could slide out. Knox led the way as they headed to the building, and Tanner remained behind her – they were boxing her in, protecting her. It galled her on one level, but she decided to let it go.
Some dubious-looking juveniles were sat on an old couch outside, smoking and drinking. Humans, she sensed. They boldly stared, but something on Knox’s face made them look away. They might not know what he was, but they were wise enough to sense the danger in him.
The front door creaked as Knox pulled it open. Harper’s nose wrinkled. The air was dank and dusty. She could smell pot, urine, dirt, and something… wrong. Rancid. Yep, this place was definitely much worse than her old address. Glass, cans, used needles, and other trash was scattered along the floors and stairwells. It was dim, thanks to the loose wiring hanging out of a hole in the ceiling where a lightbulb should be.
Knox looked at the broken elevator. “She lives on the third floor, apartment B.”
“Then up we go,” said Tanner.
Knox again walked ahead as they climbed the cluttered stairs. She was almost surprised when no rats or cockroaches skittered past them. The walls sure were thin, because Harper could hear tenants arguing, laughing, and blasting their music.
Finally, they reached Talia’s apartment door. Knox knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder this time.
The neighboring door opened, and an elderly human woman peeked out; face worn and haggard. “You’ll have to knock hard,” the human told them. “Talia tends to sleep through the day.”
“I see,” said Knox. “Thank you.”
The old woman made a huffing sound and disappeared into her apartment.
Knox banged his fist on Talia’s door almost hard enough to make it rattle. The sound of stomping and cursing coming from inside was soon followed by the door being yanked open.
“What?” snapped a tall, almost-wafer-thin blonde. Then she got a good look at Knox and paled. “I’m s-so sorry, Mr. Thorne, I-I didn’t know it was you.”
“That’s okay, Talia,” said Knox. “We’d like to speak with you.”
She blinked and shoved a hand through her loose, dull-blonde curls. “Um, yeah, okay, sure. Come in.”
The floorboards beneath the thin carpet creaked as they walked inside. Harper had been looking forward to escaping the stairwell scents. Honestly, it didn’t smell much better in here. Dust. Stale food. Cigarette smoke. And a sickly, cloying perfume.
The apartment was small and sparsely furnished with clothes strewn everywhere. The stained wallpaper was peeling from the walls, revealing cracks in the plaster. Harper could see the tiny kitchen from where she stood. Could see the piles of dishes in the rusted sink, the broken cabinet doors, and the cluttered countertop.
Feeling eyes on her, she cut her gaze to Talia. The she-demon was looking at her, taking her measure, as if wanting to assure herself that she was the prettiest in the room. Whatever. Harper just stared at her until Talia finally averted her gaze. She bore a strong resemblance to McCauley with her dark eyes, high cheekbones, dimpled chin, and small ears that protruded slightly.
Her tank top and shorts bordered on indecent, but that could be because it was seriously hot. Even with the sound of voices, T.V.s, and a dog barking, Harper could hear the air conditioning unit clanking on and off. She wondered how the hell the woman managed to cope in the heat.
Harper knew a lot of people ended up in places like this when they were down on their luck, but she got the feeling that Talia just didn’t care enough about her life to respect herself or anything in her possession. Or maybe it was just that she was too fond of drugs to care about much else, because if her sallow skin, bloodshot eyes, and contracted pupils were anything to go by, the whole “Talia’s a junkie” rumor was true.
Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment as she glanced around. “The place is a bit of a mess.” She shoved aside the threadbare curtain and wrestled open the rusted window. “Sorry I took a while to answer.”
“That’s fine,” said Knox.
She wrapped her arms around herself and lifted her chin. “Um… so… what do you need?”
“Did you see the news recently?”
She blinked rapidly. “You mean, like, on T.V.? I don’t watch the news. It’s always depressing stuff. Murders and assaults and war.”
“There was a recent story about a woman who drugged her six-year-old son, shoved him in an oven, and tried to burn him alive.”
Talia’s brow furrowed. “What?”
“Her effort didn’t work so well. Turns out his skin’s impervious to fire.”
“He’s one of us?”
“She seems to believe he’s a changeling. That’s why she put him in the oven – apparently, it’s a surefire way of exposing a changeling child. He’s six.” Knox watched realization dawn on Talia. Fear flashed across her face. “You didn’t ask my permission, Talia.”
She licked her lips, shoulders curving inward. “I-I knew you wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Why did you do it?” asked Tanner.
Talia snorted a laugh. “Are you kidding? Look at this place. Look at me. Kids need love and security and all that jazz, right?”
“You could have tried to improve your situation,” said Tanner.
Talia shook her head hard and glared at the floor. “I couldn’t have loved him,” she mumbled. “I wanted to. I just couldn’t.”
Something about the way she said it made Harper guess, “You were raped.”
Talia flinched.
“You should have told us,” Knox said through his teeth. “We would have taken care of the situation.”
Talia looked at him, eyes wet. “There wasn’t anything you could have done. The son of a bitch was human. I took care of it myself.”
“You killed him,” said Harper.
Her eyes flared. “Hell yeah, I did. It wasn’t anything he didn’t deserve.”
Harper wasn’t going to argue with that. “You didn’t abort the baby, though.”
Talia shrugged, briefly averting her gaze. “He hadn’t done anything to anybody. Wasn’t his fault. But I’m not, you know, maternal. Never wanted kids. Still don’t. Which is a good thing, really, considering I ain’t straight.” She jutted out her chin. “Judge me for giving him away if you want, but he wouldn’t have had a good life with me.”
“He didn’t have a good life with the humans,” Knox pointed out. “What happened to their biological child?”
“It was on life support. I had the midwife from our lair – Sella Monroe – exchange the babies. He wouldn’t survive among demons. They’d see him as easy prey.”
“There’s nothing weak about your son,” said Knox.
She stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“He’s powerful, Talia.”
She shook her head. “I swear to you, there wasn’t even a slight aura of power around him. I couldn’t sense his demon. I might as well have been holding a human baby. Ask Sella, she’ll tell you.”
“Maybe the power and his demon stayed dormant for a little while – there’s no way to be sure.”
Talia sank into the saggy couch, as if her legs were too weak to hold her up any longer. After a few moments, she spoke. “So he’s okay?”