Survival had bought the community’s trust, but joy had bought their devotion.
These days, damn near everyone in Five Points recognized Maya on sight. They smiled at her, or tossed her a wave as she passed. Some called out, asking about a book they wanted or promising to come in to help with the harvest prep.
The little kids were always the hardest to deal with. They bounced up to her with a lack of fear that twisted protective anxiety in her gut, and babbled nonsense at her like they didn’t have a care in the world. The contrast between these cheerful, confident kids and Rainbow’s wary caution couldn’t have been starker.
Maya could handle the neighborhood kids during movie nights, where all she had to do was throw a vid up onto the wall to be their hero, but the rest of the time …
She didn’t know how to cope with normal kids. She hadn’t exactly been one. At least she understood Rainbow.
Still, even the way the kids freaked her out was preferable to the vibe when you left Five Points. On the other side of that invisible line, the sense of community faded. Desperation showed in a thousand ways—broken bottles and trash strewn in the streets, damaged storefronts. Apartments with the windows boarded over.
People leaned against crumbling brick walls, their hardened, considering gazes crawling over anyone who passed. Maya never left Five Points without being visibly, aggressively armed. Sometimes that was enough to deter trouble. When it wasn’t … well, she never left Five Points without being ready to shoot someone in the face if she had to.
It quickly became clear that today, she would not have to.
Even though he’d said otherwise, Gray didn’t look armed. He was dressed the way he usually was, in jeans and boots and a T-shirt that hugged him in loving ways Maya was pretending not to notice. He was just a man, striding next to her in companionable silence.
Predators took one look at Gray and all but combat rolled back into the grungy alleys they’d come from.
“That is seriously annoying,” she grumbled, the third time a tight-faced would-be mugger melted back into the shadows after his gaze skimmed over Gray. “Does this always happen?”
“What?”
“You and the lowlifes.” She waved a hand toward the darkened alley. “I could come out here with a rocket launcher and they’d still try me. You’re over there in your sexy T-shirt with no visible weapons, and they’re pissing themselves as they flee.”
The corner of his mouth ticked up. “My sexy T-shirt?”
Fuck. Her cheeks burned, but she scowled at him. “Whatever. Don’t act like y’all don’t do it on purpose. Hell, Rafe has basically weaponized his biceps. Nuclear-grade muscle flexing.”
“Now, that is true,” he allowed, “but that’s Rafe, not me. Besides, I don’t think my clothes have much to do with why we’re not getting jumped out here.”
No, probably not. Tight shirts and Gray’s entrancing shoulders might inspire unwanted thoughts of a different sort of jumping, but that wasn’t what scared off the street toughs. “You’ve got the same thing Nina and Dani have. People just look at you, and they know.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “Speaking of, any updates from the team?”
“Just one. They hit the building we raided, and it was scoured clean, of course. But Conall caught them leaving on one of his pop-up cameras.” Maya sighed and rubbed a hand over her shoulder. The bruise she’d gotten when the guard had slammed her into the truck was deep purple today, and a reminder of why people saw her as less dangerous. She was. “They’re following the trail as fast as they can.”
Gray exhaled and squinted up at the sky. “Wonder how long they’ll stay out there, looking. Could be days, knowing Knox. Hell, Nina, too.”
“Nina won’t come back until she’s exhausted every possible lead. And when she does come back, it’ll be to regroup.” Remembering the look in Nina’s eyes brought a gentle ache to Maya’s chest. “This is personal.”
“For all of us, I think.” His hand grazed her shoulder, then fell away. “In one way or another.”
That warm, seductive voice wrapped around her. The ghost of his fingers lingered on her shoulder, a quiet promise. We’ll take care of this together. And he was such a solid presence next to her. Strong, effortlessly competent. The criminals watching with fear from the shadows couldn’t tell that he’d collapsed on the floor last night, seizing. That his weeks were numbered.
She kept forgetting. It would be so, so easy to forget.
The TechCorps had taken him and experimented on him, just like they had with her. And Dani. And Rafe and Conall and Knox. The people who’d hurt Nina and the ones who had created the scared young girl huddled in the upstairs apartment with Tia Ivonne might have been different monsters, but they were all part of the same evil.
Every last one of them had a score to settle.
“We’ll find them,” Maya said, forcing herself to sound confident. “I mean, we’re a bunch of badass superheroes, right?”
“Who are you trying to convince, Maya?”
She wasn’t sure. And she really didn’t want to dig deeper and figure it out. She cleared her throat. “This is the place.”
The building, like everything else in this area of downtown Atlanta, had once been nice. It was square and squat, with large picture windows framed by classic brown brick and terracotta accents. Sure, the brick was chipped and pocked, the terracotta crumbling, and every window smashed, but the building’s bones were solid. That was a big ask in a place like this.
It was also utterly deserted. Through the broken windows, Maya could see a few boxes and broken pieces of furniture, but everything else had either been hastily packed or scavenged. Beside her, Gray cursed and sent a shard of glass skittering across the uneven sidewalk with a single harsh kick.
A familiar, helpless rage kindled in her chest. The cockroach had scurried away, no doubt spooked by the threats Emeline’s grandmother had shouted at him. Spooked, but not deterred. He’d resurface somewhere else, peddling his false hope to people who couldn’t afford the strings that came with a visit to a TechCorps “free” clinic. And Maya would only find him again after he’d wrecked more lives.
Next time, it might be something she couldn’t fix.
“Stay here,” Gray muttered.
Glass crunching under his boots jerked her around, her mouth opening to call Gray back. The words froze on her tongue.
The lethal predator who’d strolled casually into the dangerous side of town was gone. Gray shuffled toward a pair of shifty-looking loiterers, his face twisted with pain, his gait unsteady. His hands trembled, and he looked pale and desperate and about five seconds from face-planting right there on the dirty street and then dying in the gutter.
Even knowing it was an act, Maya’s heart tried to climb into her throat.
God, it had better be an act.
Gray approached the men, who seemed wary but didn’t scatter. They were too far away for Maya to hear their conversation, but as she watched from the corner of the building, the locals almost seemed to relax, as if they were speaking with an old friend instead of a stranger.
Slowly, Gray made his way back. By the time he reached her, he was standing tall, his expression clear of pain, with only the frustration lingering. Relief twisted through her, followed swiftly by unease. The act had been superb. He was a damn chameleon.