Dahlia

  An eerie silence fell over the city block as the figure appeared seemingly from out of nowhere, his back to me like he hadn’t noticed me at all. My senses—my instincts—all urged me to pay attention. This stranger was dressed entirely in black, much like me. Usually, he wouldn’t have drawn my attention, but something about him was off. He was clearly a man based on his demeanor and size alone. He wasn’t all that intimidating beyond his dark attire, but as I scrutinized him closely, I noticed a sword strapped to his back.

  And that sword was still slick with blood. He hadn’t even bothered to wipe it down.

  “Hey!” I called out, startling even myself with my boldness.

  The figure stopped in his tracks and turned to face me. The sight of his black-and-white mask made me still. I’d heard enough of the rumors and seen enough paintings around Firen to identify him in an instant.

  So, this was the Reaper.

  He seemed to cock his head at me—though it was hard to tell under all the layers he wore. As he took a step forward, I reached back over my shoulder to grip the hilt of my sword—ready to defend myself from the notorious Reaper. Noticing my movement, the figure stopped in his tracks and put his gloved hands up as if to say, I don’t mean you any harm.

  But I wasn’t about to risk my life on the reassurances of a bloodthirsty stranger.

  I drew my sword and called out, “You’ve been causing trouble for me lately, buddy.”

  He cocked his head again and crossed his arms as if to say, I don’t care.

  With a sigh, I admitted, “It’s not that I disagree with what you’ve been doing—I just don’t like people thinking I’ve been slaughtering the Imms—understand?”

  Perhaps it was my imagination, but the man seemed to shake with silent laughter before shrugging and turning away. Something about this reaction humanized him. It was easy to dehumanize a man in a mask. But when he departed at a lightning-fast pace, he quickly confirmed that he wasn’t human.

  At least, not entirely.

  There was no point in trying to run after the man. I wouldn’t even know what to do if I caught him, nor did I have a compelling reason to do so. I wouldn’t kill him—despite my faults, I wasn’t a murderer. Killing was reserved for self-defense—this was Portia’s moral code that I now shared with her and Max. Besides, leaving bodies around the city drew far too much attention—the Reaper was evidence of that. And while I was curious about the Reaper, I doubted he wanted to stick around to talk to a random human woman.

  While the Reaper didn’t seem to share my views on killing, I agreed with his goals, if not his means. The Imms who intruded on the peace of Firen needed to be punished—just not by me. The Reaper was, perhaps, the only person brave enough to stand up to them. By comparison, I was a coward. I lived a comfortable life here in Firen while Imms regularly kidnapped children. Children like Erich—kidnapped from his bed at the orphanage we grew up in when he was just twelve years old. He had been my oldest friend, and I had been helpless to save him—too young and far too scared to reveal myself.

  The thought of Erich filled me with shame at my own inaction, but the feeling didn’t last long—couldn’t last long.

  After a moment to collect myself, I walked off in the direction the Reaper had come from. It was easy to follow his trail—he left drops of blood on the dirt path from that massive sword of his. That idiot led me straight to the scene of his bloody transgression. If I followed it the other direction, I might even be able to catch up with him.

  I snorted with disapproval. For such a secretive man, he didn’t do much to cover his tracks. Tsk-tsk.

  As I entered the small square where four roads converged upon a small fountain, I saw the results of the Reaper’s efforts. Three lifeless Imms lay in puddles of their own blood just beyond the fountain. Despite the bloody scene, this wasn’t what caught my attention. No, my attention shifted to the slightest movement at the edge of the square. There, I saw two small girls huddled together under the awning of a closed street vendor’s stall—closed for the night, though a hanging lantern provided the girls with a refuge from the darkness. Both girls were shivering, dressed only in their nightgowns despite the cool night air.

  Ignoring the fallen Imms for the time being, I approached the girls with my hands raised, much like the Reaper had done when he approached me. As I drew near, I whispered, “I mean you no harm—let me get you somewhere warm.”

  The larger and older of the girls looked up at me with wide eyes, but the other didn’t even appear to notice me as she shivered in the arms of her companion. The older girl looked over to the dead Imms as she whispered, “He made us stay ’ere—said we’d be’n trouble if we left.”

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  I recognized her harsh accent. This girl came from a poor background—much like me. She didn’t have access to schooling, not at the caliber of my own education, once my father had taken a vested interest in me. If it hadn’t been for his severe correction while I was still young, the accent I’d picked up in the orphanage would probably still flow from my lips as I spoke.

  “Who?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  The girl looked back up at me with wide, horrified eyes, “The Reaper. I promised ’im I’d stay—we both promised.”

  I looked to the other girl for confirmation, but she didn’t react.

  Clearly, she was in shock.

  “He knew I was coming,” I lied, hoping the girls would recognize me as an ally and not someone to be afraid of. “I’m here to take you somewhere warm for the night, and then we will get you back to your families.”

  I heard the creaking of an old door in the distance and stiffened as I realized I was exposed. The Imms—specifically the Calos—were sure to investigate when they realized that the Reaper had, once again, murdered their kind. And if they found me here…

  Shoving down my panic, I continued with a gentle, soothing voice, sharing my fears with the girl in the hope that she would understand, “But we really shouldn’t be here when the Calos come.”

  Thankfully, she understood my concern. She tensed, her back becoming ramrod straight as the fear of another interaction with the Imms settled over her. She didn’t even take a moment to consider this before she nodded, “Alrigh’ then. Let’s go.”

  I felt some of my own tension ease.

  Good girl.

  I held out my hand to her, and she took it as she pulled her younger—and still dazed—companion to her feet alongside her.

  “It isn’t far,” I promised as we started walking south, “Just a few blocks to shelter.”

  Neither girl responded, but the older girl’s breathing was loud and labored, revealing her fear within. So, I kept a slow pace and forced calm into my bones as I led the girls straight to the front steps of the Ledge, only a few streets away. Raucous laughter and the sound of muffled, loud music flowed onto the street as we approached the door. The bar was hardly a reasonable accommodation for a child, but I had no better alternative at this time of night.

  At the top of the steps, I peeled off my coat and a layer of clothes, leaving me in a pair of loose, black trousers and a simple, short-sleeved green blouse. With quick hands, I unbraided my hair until it hung in thick waves to the middle of my back. When I turned back to the girls, they were both watching me with equal looks of surprise on their faces.

  “You’re pretty,” the younger girl mumbled, eyes a little distant but focused on my face now.

  I would have laughed, but I was just relieved that the little one had snapped out of whatever trance she had been in before. Was it shock? Shock seemed like a normal human reaction to what they had just seen—not one I understood, but I’d heard of it before.

  As I pushed the girls through the front door, the sound of the merriment within flooded around us and onto the street, the light from inside casting our shadows on the buildings behind us. I groaned inwardly at the deviant sight within the bar and winced as the older girl’s eyes widened at the sight of dancers on the bar top in little to no clothing. Around the bar, women sat on men’s laps, men gambled, and some couples secluded themselves in dark corners in search of pleasure.

  I regretted bringing them here, but it was too late to change plans now. I stepped inside, stuffing my clothing in a drawer under the small table just inside the front door, when a woman shrieked, “Dee-Dee! You came!”

  Maiza.

  I closed my eyes and groaned—remembering exactly why I intended to avoid the Ledge tonight. Maiza, a thin—almost emaciated—woman, rushed over to me and wrapped her arms around my middle as she cried, “DEE! I was so worried you’d forgotten my birthday.”

  She whined the last word, but I couldn’t help but smile at Max’s assistant. I enjoyed Maiza’s company—even if she did drive me close to insanity with her pestering about my well-being. I couldn’t exactly be mad about that, given it came from a good place. I simply didn’t like the attention or incessant affection.

  “How could I forget?” I managed as she released me and noticed the two girls I had in tow.

  “Dee-Dee, there are children following you. They can’t be here—you know that,” Maiza’s brown eyes widened as she whispered to me as if sharing a secret she didn’t want the girls to hear.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Maiza knew it wasn’t like me to associate with children. Clearly, she thought I didn’t know how to take care of them.

  “I was on my way here when I found them,” I said, looking down at the girls, who were both staring at Maiza as if she were some sort of strange animal that might bite them. I didn’t blame them. Her nails were filed to sharp points and painted bright red to match her lipstick, and she was dressed in a nearly sheer, black dress that showed every curve of her body. Imm fashion—popular among the wealthy residents of Firen. These girls had probably never seen anything like it.

  “How old are they?” She asked as she kneeled beside the young girls.

  “How should I know?” I asked with a scoff. It wasn’t like they had the time to tell me their life story, after all.

  “I’m ten,” The older girl replied, “Cass is eigh’.”

  “You are both simply adorable,” Maiza swooned and then smiled brightly at the girls, “You must be freezing! Let’s get you to one of Max’s rooms. I’m sure he won’t mind me lighting a fire to warm you right up!”

  I watched with amusement as Maiza pushed the girls to the stairwell at the back of the room while barking orders at one of the waitresses to get them something to drink. Despite my issues with Maiza, she was the perfect person to look after the girls tonight. The woman had her vices, but her heart was as pure as they came.

  I couldn’t help but like her.

  I took a moment to watch them disappear before I wound through the crowd to the bar to talk to Verrin—one of the night bartenders—about sending out a notice about the girls in the morning. Someone needed to find their homes, and it wouldn’t be me.

  Just as I reached the bar, however, the door to the street flew open and hit the wall with a crack that made everyone around me jump in surprise as the portrait of Max’s grandfather—the founder of their family business—fell to the floor with a thud just beside the open door. The room fell silent as three tall figures entered. I felt myself shrink back into the crowd as I recognized the figures for what they were—Imms.

  The perfect addition to a terrible day.