Chapter Six

The bus dropped Kierse off a few blocks from home. Despite the night she'd had, she was still wired. Normally when she finished a mission, Ethan's comforting presence let her drift off no matter what manner of monster or human was nearby. The bus was one of the last vestiges of the old Manhattan. No one fucked with bus drivers.

She took a breath of relief when she stepped onto her home turf. Houston Street was bustling this late at night. The shops were all closed, including her favorite bagel joint in the entire city, but that didn't stop the Lower East Side from coming to life after hours. The local gang, the Roulettes, patrolled the neighborhood. Girls called out from windows as she headed south toward Delancey. She ended up on the corner between the Roulettes' headquarters, her go-to bodega, and Madame Colette's, a landmark brothel house and the place she called home.

She, Ethan, and Gen lived in the attic of the brothel. Gen was Colette's only daughter, and Kierse and Ethan were her two pet projects, then best friends, and now family. Everything that belonged to one of them belonged to all of them. That was how it had been since the first moment they met.

Kierse stalked up the front steps of the house, grinning at the Roulette standing guard at the main entrance, a casino chip on his lapel. "Hey, Corey. I thought you had plans with Ethan tonight."

Corey was Ethan's everything. Corey's parents had immigrated from the Philippines right before the monsters' appearance and the economic collapse. His parents had so many dreams for him, but after they'd died, he'd made his own way by joining the Roulettes. He fit right in with his broad shoulders, bulky muscles, and serious expressions. Kierse never would have guessed he and Ethan would be such a pair. But they'd met on one of the runs Ethan made to the Roulettes, and Corey had fallen instantly in love. It would have been disgusting if she wasn't so happy for Ethan.

Corey winked at her. "Plans are still on. I'm off soon. We're going to the festival in Little Italy. You and Gen coming, too?"

Kierse's heart panged at the thought of the festival. "It's still going on this late?"

Only a scant few years ago, nothing could have survived the monster brutality at night. Let alone a street festival. It really felt like they were coming to the other side of all of this.

"Yep," he said, tossing his glossy black hair. "Supposed to go all night, if the nymphs have anything to say about it."

She laughed. "Oh, I bet."

Nymphs were one of the few monsters that humans could tolerate. They were mischievous little things but good at a party.

"You should come. It'd be good for you."

She waved him off. "We'll see."

Corey let her pass without another word. The brothel during working hours was far from her favorite place in the world. Most nights, she took the fire escape to avoid the faux laughter of the sex workers and the prowling eyes and groping hands of their patrons. But rent was due, and she hated putting something off until tomorrow that could be done today.

When she stepped into the sitting area, she found a buxom redhead with all the grace and beauty of the leader of the home—Madame Colette. Beside her sat Carmine Garcia, her regular associate and the head of the Roulettes. Their frequent love affair was more than public knowledge. As well as the fact that she would never leave it all behind for him.

"You're late," she said from an antique armchair next to the flickering fireplace in the brothel house.

"Always, ma'am," Kierse said.

"Be useful. Make me another brandy."

Madame Colette never admitted that she waited up for Kierse when she was on a mission. The time Kierse had made the mistake of asking, she'd gotten her ears boxed for the stupidity of it—Colette had better things to do than stay up over some brat her daughter had taken into her attic—but Kierse knew the truth.

Still, she sloshed more brandy into Colette's crystal glass. The good stuff at that.

"Carmine, dear, I have business," she said, fluttering her red-lacquered nails at him.

He rose to his considerable height and dropped a bowler hat onto his gelled-back black hair. His light-brown skin was smooth and unblemished, but his onyx eyes were keen and calculating. They had to be, to rule one of the largest and most ruthless gangs in the city.

"Of course," Carmine said, adjusting his three-piece suit. The light glinted off of the silver casino chip pin on his tie. He brushed his lips against Colette's milky wrist. "I will see you later."

She waved him off, and it was only after he was gone that she said, "Why do you look like you got the shit beat out of you, girl?" Colette leaned back in her chair, tossing her bright-red bangs off of her fair and unlined forehead and out of her blue eyes.

Kierse rolled her aching shoulders. "I'm fit for a fight still, Colette."

"You'd be better off spreading your legs for money like a good girl. All this fighting makes you look like you strolled out of the dumpster. Doesn't befit my house or hospitality."

"Noted."

"Did you at least bring me something worthwhile?"

Kierse dropped the rent money down on the table, and Colette grinned. "Paid in full."

"Good girl."

The madame sloshed the brandy around in her glass. She'd had Gen when she was twenty and had still risen to be one of the most prominent madams in the city, taking over for her predecessor and growing the brothel house to its new form of glory.

"Anything else?"

"Tell my darling daughter, Genesis, that I'm going to need her in the tent tomorrow afternoon again, will you?"

"I'll tell her. Good night, Colette."

She strode out of the parlor and headed toward the magnificent staircase. The wide-open stairs were shiny with polish, bedecked with elaborate banisters. It was a remnant of a bygone era. Back before this four-story home was used as a brothel and instead for some wealthy socialites. Back when this part of the city had been used by someone other than the dregs of society.

Kierse gritted her teeth and climbed to the attic. Thankfully, no one disturbed her as she ascended the stairs that led to her refuge. The lights were dim as she entered, casting everything in different shades of midnight.

Gen was sprawled across her bed. Ethan had changed out of his gear and was curled up behind her, slowly working small braids into her rich copper hair. Kierse loved seeing them like this, without a care in the world. Gen, who had grown up in this brothel, always with the expectation that one day she would have to join it. And Ethan, who had been taken in by the church in his hometown of Hartford, Connecticut, and moved up the ranks before finally coming to Manhattan. Only to be abused and barely escape.

And Kierse—well, she loved an exit strategy, because Gen had been hers. Jason had found out she was trying to leave the guild. In his fit of rage, he'd beaten her to within an inch of her life and left her for dead. The one exit she'd never gotten to successfully take. And then Gen had found her and given her a home.

The world outside of this room was a horrifying place, but for just this moment, they had peace.

"Rough night?" Gen asked.

"I'm sure Ethan already told you," Kierse said as she padded across the creaky wooden floors.

She moved past the training facility at the center of the room and around the tattered orange sofa and colorful patterned chair that Gen had masterfully reupholstered herself. She was careful not to upend the small, round table, which held Gen's tarot-reading paraphernalia, and avoided the dozen plants that Ethan was currently nursing to health. He was infatuated with the stuff, and Colette might have pitched a fit if he didn't grow the herbs that Gen used to make her medicinal tonics.

"Colette wants you in the festival tent tomorrow."

Gen huffed. "Fine. But tell me about tonight. Ethan said that things went poorly. There was a monster."

"Yeah. You could say that." Kierse took a deep breath, flopping back on the adjacent bed. This was going to be fun. "It was a monster but not any that I've ever known before."

Gen made a sound of protest. She pushed Ethan off of her, tying her red hair into a knot on the top of her head. Normally so serene and calm, her face now showed a flicker of concern. She hated making Gen worry, but it was kind of an occupational hazard.

Ethan came to his feet between the beds. "I did tell you that."

"You did," Gen said. "I just didn't believe you."

She trailed off when she noticed Kierse's stillness. Gen had been slowly losing her vision due to early onset macular degeneration since she was seven. Most of her central vision was gone in both eyes, but she could still see out of her peripheral. The one time Colette had paid the ridiculous fee for a doctor to look at her, they'd diagnosed her with a rare illness, told her there was no cure or treatment, and sent her packing.

"What is it?" Ethan asked.

This was her world, her sanctuary. The only place she ever completely let her guard down. Gen was their beacon home. Together, the three of them had carved out this slice of the world for themselves. They'd needed Gen. They'd needed this home where a madame's daughter, an altar boy, and a thief could live free of expectations. And she was about to ruin it all.

"Two things: one, he offered me a job, and two, he has magic."

"Magic?" Gen said at the same time Ethan asked, "What job?"

"Yes, magic," Kierse said.

"And you believe him?" Ethan asked. Her eyes shifted to him. He was the youngest of the trio, long and lithe and beautiful. He could have raked in more money at the brothel than any of the workers on the floor below them if he'd wanted to. Even the ragged scar on one side of his face couldn't mar how stunning, striking, and alluring he was.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't have believed him if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes."

"But then is he a kind of monster we don't know about?" Gen asked, stiffening as she considered this possibility. "Is he not subject to the Monster Treaty?"

"I don't know," Kierse said.

"But a representative from each breed of monster stepped forward and signed. It keeps them from killing us—it's the only thing that keeps us safe."

Kierse knew the terms of the Treaty. The monsters agreed with the humans that to have a better world, they all had to put their differences aside. The monsters would be subject to human laws, including murder. And humans were forbidden from interfering in monster business unless monsters were in violation of human law. Which meant that a human breaking and entering into a monster's home, like what Kierse did tonight, could be killed. No questions asked. It gave the monsters more autonomy than most humans were comfortable with, but it was a compromise.

"Honestly, that's the least of my concerns here." Kierse stood and paced away from her friends.

"What kind of job is this, Kierse?" Gen asked.

"The dangerous kind," Kierse said stiffly. "Stealing something very powerful from very bad monsters. The kind that have a following underground."

Gen gulped. "Oh, Kierse."

"And money isn't an object. We can have all the safety and security we need to get out of here after I finish it."

"Is this about Torra?" Ethan whispered. Gen grasped his hand, shushing him.

Kierse winced. She didn't talk about Torra, and she certainly wasn't about to right now.

"He might know more about where I come from," she said instead of touching the land mine that was her ex-girlfriend.

She knew so little of her past. Her mother had died in childbirth. She'd lived for a short time with her father, but he'd abandoned her at an early age. One day, she'd walked to school, and the next, he was gone. Hardship on the streets erased everything good that remained. She couldn't even remember his face or the sound of his voice. The memories were just blank.

All she had from them was her necklace.

She'd been left on the streets and learned to fend for herself. Only to be recruited by Jason when he'd found her happily pickpocketing. Then, she was in his thieving guild. She'd honed her talents with him, and she'd repaid his brutality with a knife in his gut. Good riddance.

It just proved that she had already been capable, and her time after her parents left had just honed her into the person she was today. Had her father taught her resilience? Had her mother given her her powers? She had no answers and never knew anyone who could teach her more about herself... until now. What happened to her before was lost to time.

But maybe now it wasn't. She'd just opened her mouth to say exactly that when she heard screams from downstairs.

Corey burst into the room, yelling, "Gang raid!"

"What the hell?" Ethan said in shock.

"Gang raid," he repeated. "We need to get you the hell out of here! I have to help the girls." He pressed a firm kiss to Ethan's lips. "Get out safe."

"We will," Ethan said, reaching for him even as Corey was already speeding back out of the attic.

Kierse jumped into action, ushering Ethan and Gen to the fire escape on the back of the building. The whole time, her mind was whirring. A gang attack? Which gang would be stupid enough to attack Colette's place? The Roulettes scared off most other activity in these parts. There were few gangs who could go up against them.

She didn't have time to think about it more than that. She needed to get her friends out of the brothel and somewhere safe.

Kierse checked that the coast was clear and then helped Gen out of the window.

"Go," Gen said irritably. "I can get down."

"Ethan?" Kierse called as she plunged down the fire escape.

"Coming up the rear."

She could hear gunshots in the distance and screams from within. She'd lived here for years, and while there had been scuffles with local gangs, disagreements with clientele, and disruptions with new workers, there had never been an actual attack. Her refuge had been raided, and she was furious.

Kierse checked that their escape route was clear before dropping the last few feet onto the sidewalk. Gen dangled her feet below, uncertainly reaching for the ladder. Luckily, she took the fire escape as often as Ethan to avoid seeing her mom. It didn't make Kierse worry about her any less in this situation as she landed uneasily on her feet. Ethan skipped half the ladder himself, landing with ease beside them.

Besides missions with Kierse, Ethan worked for Colette running errands, delivering messages, and dealing with the Roulettes. He spent most mornings working his body into a sweat, trying to bulk out those long, lean muscles. Kierse had never been as grateful to have him at her side as when they had Gen between them.

"Where to?" Ethan asked.

"The festival," Kierse answered at once. "People are cover."

Ethan nodded, taking Gen's hand as they all veered toward Little Italy.

They were rounding the corner when something suddenly felt off to her. Instincts took over as the hair on the back of her neck pricked and unease slithered into her belly. She leaned into that feeling. Whatever it was, whatever edge it gave her, she slid into it. Her focus centered on the next turn the second before a gun whipped around the edge and pointed directly in her face.

Gen screamed. Ethan gasped. Kierse returned to real time in that instant, stepping toward the intruder as he barreled toward them. She reached past the gun with only a second to spare and brought her hand down decisively against the delicate bones of his wrist. The man cursed as the gun clattered to the ground several feet away.

There was no time to ask questions. No time to wonder who the hell this man was. The gun was out of the picture, but in a contest of his strength against hers, it wasn't looking up. She could fight, but she wasn't built for it, and she didn't want to if she didn't have to. Stealth had always been her MO. Stay hidden, avoid notice, and if all else fails, run. One on one, this giant of a man would surely overpower her.

So Kierse dragged the man closer to her rather than trying to push him away. In the moment of confusion, she drove her knee up into his groin as quickly and efficiently as possible. He gasped and toppled to the ground.

No time to waste. Kierse whipped around to Gen and Ethan and yelled one word of direction. "Run!"