Page 85 of Spit

I hated it.

I lived in New Orleans for a reason, even if the crime rate wasn’t great and the streets weren’t the cleanest. Besides the fantastic food, NOLA was so full of personality that the city threatened to burst at the seams.

If I lived in the Red City, I wouldn’t have wanted to live in the human sector. If given a choice, I would have picked gluttony, as predictable as that was. The restaurants looked too good to pass up, and I could get takeout for years without visiting the same place twice. There were colors for days, and the sense of welcome was just the icing on the cake.

Everyone got out of the car, leaving me behind with my thoughts of food and bland cityscapes. No one said a word as I hustled to keep up—though I did get some serious side eye from Katalina.

We stood outside an apartment building with no identifiable features save for the buzzer and the list of names scrawled under it.

Legion didn’t wait as he strode forward and pressed the button with his thumb. Anna-Risa immediately buzzed us in, and I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a concerning one.

I looked around for any signs of a camera but didn’t find one.

Maybe she was expecting someone.

Katalina walked by Legion’s side as they entered the building. They were a well-presented couple, though they didn’t hold hands or touch.

Sev waggled his brows at me and held out his hand, but I scoffed and didn’t take it.

We weren’t on a double date. We had a job to do.

Our ragtag group bypassed the elevator, which was out of service, and went straight to the steps. Again, I noted a lack of security cameras.

Katalina seemed to know exactly where she was going, though her steps slowed down as we reached the fourth floor. She was no longer rushing but bogged down with reluctance that clung to her every move—her fists clenched and her jaw tight. Her eyes fixed forward as if she was going off to war.

I turned to Sev and noticed that he was watching her as well.

Finally, we stopped at the door without a number, and Katalina knocked. There was a long enough pause between the knock and when someone answered that it was unusual. I was already uneasy, but everything about the situation clawed at my instincts to run.

The walls of the apartment block felt too narrow, and I had been keeping a tight rein on my shadow since Katalina and I had come to our uneasy truce. If Katalina touched me, I wouldn’t be able to help it if I sapped her dry, but I didn’t want to take away a potential weapon simply because I was too lazy to rein in my demonic shadow.

The door opened just a crack, with the chain on and a beady eye staring out. “What?” a feminine voice demanded.

“Anna-Risa?” Katalina squared her shoulders. “It’s Kat.”

“Kat? Katalina?” She cleared her throat, the sound full of phlegm. I shuddered at the sound. “It’s not knitting night. That’s next Tuesday. We’re meeting at Isobel’s. She’s making margaritas.”

“It’s about something else.” Katalina smiled. “Can we come in?”

The eye at the door narrowed before the door shut softly, and the chain scraped. A moment later, Anna-Risa revealed herself in all of her glory. A rotund woman wearing an abaya, yet showing no sign of middle Eastern genealogy that I could see. Though it looked comfortable, and the blue and red pattern was interesting. She was beautiful enough to be a model, though curvy enough to be labeled a plus-size one.

I couldn’t imagine a woman like Anna-Risa signing up for a reality show, but what did I know?

Anna-Risa ignored everyone to gaze at me, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, deepening the crow's feet at the corners. No other muscle in her face moved.

She took care of herself. Botox, I would have guessed.

Which didn’t explain why she smelled like death on a hot day.

Anna-Risa crossed her arms over her substantial chest. “You’ve come to donate?” She asked, her eyes flicking to Katalina’s. “I’ve always got room if you need the money.”

Katalina cleared her throat. “Donate?”

“Witch blood.” Anna-Risa waved a hand. “Magicktek pays me by the bucket for occult blood. Demon. Witch. Shifter. Fae. Doesn’t matter.”

Legion, who until that moment had done an excellent job of blending into the walls, stepped forward. “Explain.” He didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to.

Anna-Risa paled as if realizing what she was up against. “You brought the goddamn stewards to my door.” She didn’t take her eyes off Legion, but it was evident that Anna-Risa’s comment was directed at Katalina.

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