What the hell am I supposed to do now? If animal control picks him up, they’ll figure out that he is definitely not an Egyptian otter. There’s no telling what they’ll do with him then.
Grumbling under my breath, I punch the button for the second elevator. I should let Sosch fend for himself, but I can’t stand the thought of him ending up in the hands of biologists or scientists or anyone else who wants to figure out what he is or how his fur flushes between white and silver.
I fist the pillowcase in my hand as I watch the numbers above Sosch’s elevator count down the floors. Of course, it doesn’t stop until he reaches the ground floor. The image of hotel guests screaming as bellboys throw themselves across the floor, trying to catch the kimki, leaps into my mind. This could be really bad.
The second elevator pings. I step inside, punch the glowing number one, then jab the DOOR CLOSE button half a million times.
Sosch had a nonstop trip all the way down. Me? I stop at two additional floors and pick up six hotel guests before the doors finally slide open on the ground floor. I slip past the others with an apology, then scan the lobby.
It’s less chaotic than I feared. No women screaming or bellboys on the floor, but Sosch definitely passed through here. Everyone’s looking to the left, where a set of glass doors are propped open. Clenching my teeth, I stalk in that direction. You’d think the damn kimki was native to this world, he navigates it so well.
Hot summer air envelops me as soon as I step outside. The Vegas Strip is about a hundred feet ahead. It’s packed with people. No way am I going to push my way through that crowd searching for Sosch. Never mind that I probably won’t be able to find him, I’m not wearing shoes, and once I get out of the shaded entrance, the concrete will toast my feet.
A chirp-squeak comes from the decorative fountain a few paces to my left. Perched on the marble edge is the kimki. He happily nibbles at a cracker a young girl gives him. Fortunately, the girl’s parents aren’t paying any attention to her.
I’ve changed my mind. The kimki isn’t adorably cute; he’s a hideous rodent who doesn’t belong in my world.
I wait until the girl holds out a second cracker before I step out of the shade. The concrete is as bad as I thought it would be, but if I keep moving, my feet might not turn to ash. I sprint to the fountain and make my move, sweeping Sosch up with one arm while pulling the pillowcase over his head with my other hand.
“Thanks for finding Sosch for me,” I tell the girl when her mouth falls open. She stares up at me, and I swear to God she’s about to break down into tears.
“Really sorry,” I say, hopping from foot to foot as I back away. The apology doesn’t help. Her chin quivers.
I spin around and take off before she can point me out to her parents. Just as I’m merging with the crowd on the Strip, sobs ring out behind me. I feel like crap for making the girl cry, but I didn’t have a choice. I have to get Sosch out of here.
And I have to find some shade.
I refrain from slinging the pillowcase over my shoulder. Instead, I hook my arm under Sosch’s belly and keep him pressed to my side, making sure the pillowcase stays open so he can breathe. I don’t know what I’m going to do with him. I can’t take him back inside the hotel.
The concrete isn’t so bad in the middle of the crowd. So long as no one steps on my foot, I might be okay.
At least, that’s what I think until my skin prickles. I look over my shoulder, searching for the chaos luster I think I saw leap across someone’s hand. There’s a group of girls wearing flashing crowns walking the other way. The battery-powered blue lights are bright even under the blazing sun. Maybe my brain interpreted those as a fae’s edarratae?
Someone runs into my shoulder, wrenching it hard. I ball my hand into a fist as the guy turns toward me.
“Sorry,” the human slurs, drunk even though it’s not even noon yet. His friends laugh as they guide him away.
Yeah. I’m definitely paranoid.
I try to force myself to relax as I continue on, but my skin is still crawling. It’s not a feeling I get often in my world, and it’s ridiculous to have it here, in the midst of all the flashing lights, the billboards, the humans with all their electronic devices. A fae’s edarratae would be going crazy. They’d be easy to see. And that’s why Shane and I are staying here, in a hotel on the Strip. Aside from the rebels dropping us off or picking us up, it should be fae-free.
My feet freaking hurt, but I keep going, making my way toward the south end of the Strip. The only place I can think of to go is to the gate. It’s on a stretch of road that connects the city of Vegas to Lake Las Vegas. It’s relatively rural, and since kimkis are attracted to gates, there’s a chance Sosch might stay there for a while.
I can get there by bus, but the stop I need is ten blocks east of Las Vegas Avenue. It’ll take twenty minutes to get there. As I turn down a side road, I readjust Sosch on my hip. I swear he’s fallen asleep, and somehow, he’s made himself weigh twice as much as usual.
Only a handful of locals and a few tourists who’ve wandered away from the Strip share the sidewalk with me. With the smaller crowd, it’s easy to see that no one—no fae at least—is following me. After checking over my shoulder for the tenth time, my anxiety level finally lowers. Exactly one second after that, I hear the shrrip of a fissure opening behind me. Before I’m able to turn, I’m yanked into an alley.
I drop Sosch as I twist toward my attacker, swinging a fist at…
“Lorn,” I grind out when I recognize the impeccably dressed fae plucking my fist from the air.
“McKenzie,” Lorn returns with a smile. That smile disappears when an obviously pissed-off Sosch shoots out of the pillowcase, wraps himself around Lorn’s left leg, then bites him just above the knee.
“Ahg. Off!” Lorn snaps in Fae, kicking out with his leg. Sosch thuds against a grimy door.
“Hey!” I glare at Lorn as I scoop the kimki up in my arms. “What are you—”
I stop because we’re not the only people in this alley. A human is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette.
“What’s that?” he asks, eyeing Sosch, as the kimki climbs up onto my shoulders.
“Otter,” I mutter.
Lorn laughs. I clench my teeth together, adding Lorn’s name to the list of people I’m going to kill.
EIGHT
ONCE THE HUMAN is out of sight, Lorn breaks into a shop that’s either gone bankrupt and was shut down or it’s just been purchased and is being renovated. There are dozens of retail spaces in a similar stage of transition scattered all over the city. In this one, huge sheets of white plastic cover the glass windows, and the walls are missing Sheetrock. Empty clothing racks are tangled one on top of the other in the back corner, and the store’s checkout counter is crooked and covered in an even thicker layer of sawdust than what’s on the floor.
I set Sosch down. He makes a beeline for a stack of collapsed cardboard boxes, leaving a trail of tiny footprints behind him.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, when Lorn goes to the window. With one finger, he moves aside the plastic so he can peek out. I haven’t seen Lorn since he fissured me to Vegas just over two weeks ago. He set me up in the hotel room and hasn’t been back since.