City of Ghosts - Stacia Kane

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      “They’re Binding marks.” She waited for the shocking pain to come again, braced herself for it. When it didn’t come she continued. “They’re why I can’t talk about what I was doing. I’m Bound from it.”

      Bump’s head tilted back. “You ain’t give Bump the tell then, causen them Church ain’t give you the fuckin yay.”

      “Right. I can’t. It’ll—well, you saw. And that’s just a warning.”

      Silence. Okay, well, they both knew she couldn’t talk, and knew why, but she had the distinct feeling the matter wasn’t going to drop there. Maybe if she tried something else? A little different wording?

      “It’s not about you.” Another shot of pain raced through her bloodstream, but not so bad this time. Certainly not like what it had been a few minutes before. Okay. She was starting to get a feel for this thing now, and that was good.

      “But where you at this night…Bump got fuckin business there, yay? Ain’t wanting no Churchcops havin a wander-round there.”

      “They found some—” This time she didn’t need the pain. No way was she going to be allowed to let that particular piece of information fly.

      Terrible spoke up, glancing at her as he did so with quick little eye-darts, like he was looking at the sun and couldn’t do it for too long. Only in her case she doubted he was seeing anything bright. “Figure on it bein them body parts, aye, Bump? Ratchet find em, you recall, two days past. That it?”

      “You know about them?”

      His eyebrows cranked up. Right. Of course he did. What went on in Downside that Bump and Terrible didn’t know about?

      “You know who found them?”

      Another dead look.

      “No, seriously. I need to talk to him—her. Whoever. I don’t know if their name’s in the fi—”

      Okay, this was starting to piss her off. On the one hand it was good to get some kind of calibration going, to find out exactly how far she could go. Pushing boundaries had always been one of her hobbies. But she could have done with an easier way to figure out where those boundaries were.

      Plastic rustled: Bump’s pillbag. Probably the same one he’d offered her months ago, when she first got involved with him—well, involved more than the usual buyingselling game they’d been playing for a few years. She’d taken an Oozer before they came in but it wasn’t kicking in. And even if it had been, why the hell not?

      She grabbed two more and chased them with water. The little hand on the clock had sneaked past four; she was crashing hard from the Nips and thought of her bed with the kind of yearning she normally felt for…well, for the pills she’d just swallowed.

      Bump tapped his cane against the floor, setting the gold band around the bottom flashing.

      “So…Sound like Bump got some fuckin knowledge you need right, yay? Like I do some fuckin help for you. Ain’t have they Churchcops all down Bump’s fuckin business, dig, ain’t have it noways. Think we make us a deal, Ladybird, yay? Fine deal Bump got for you.”

      Her sigh felt dragged from the depths of her soul. Great. Working for Bump again.

       Chapter Seven

      Don’t be afraid to admit to yourself what results you’re looking for, or to ask your friends for help.

      —You Can Do This! A Guide for Beginners, by Molly Brooks-Cahill

      “I can’t do that,” she said again, and just as he had before, Bump waved an imperious hand as if her objections were lowly servants to be dismissed.

      “Ain’t sayin take Terrible when she fuckin Churchcop along, dig. But after. You ain’t can say you knowledge, yay, but he fuckin can. Bump gots what he needs, so you gets you fuckin needs. Real simple, Ladybird. Ain’t it clean?”

      “I’ll die, Bump. This isn’t something to fuck around with, I took a blood oath—”

      “An you ain’t breakin it, dig. Just doin you some side work, yay? Takin you some protection where you go. Give Bump the listen-down, here, Ladybird. All business Bump’s business, you recall. They black magic shit goes down, Bump’s business. They ain’t got a sweet spot for Bump, guessing, after Bump’s men done give them the crack-up out Chester. Danger for Bump, danger for all, if you dig. Bump gotta get he Churchwitch in it, yay? Ain’t gotta run it up again, do I?”

      No. He didn’t. They’d been through this before; only a few weeks before, no matter that it felt as if a lifetime had passed. Bump ran Downside, and without Bump in control things could get even worse than they were already, hard as that was to believe. Nor was he wrong in assuming the Lamaru’s return put Terrible and Bump in at least as much danger as it put her.

      And there was more to it, much as she hated to admit it. If Bump wanted to bring her in on this, it meant Terrible hadn’t told him about her and Lex. And if Terrible hadn’t told him—despite the reason he’d given her for keeping his mouth shut, about not wanting Bump to know how he’d failed, how he’d convinced Bump she was trustworthy and had been wrong—maybe there was a chance.

      And working with him? Would give her an opening to find out. Maybe to prove herself again.

      Just thinking of it all made her want to dive under a blanket of Dream and stay there until her bones dissolved, to suck that thick yellowish smoke deep into her lungs until she forgot him. Forgot everything and became nothing more than another loose-limbed body draped on a velvet couch, another tiny spark of consciousness fluttering in the ecstatic drugged-out breeze.

      Bump seemed to take her silence as the need for more convincing, instead of simply a few minutes’ wallow in her own pitiful bog. “Terrible know them streets, dig. Be a fuckin help, he do. You take he ‘long, Ladybird, see if Bump ain’t right. Bet we get you all in the good lights with you bossmen, yay? They Elders. Like you right, them will, you catch they black magic witches.”

      The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself with something ridiculous like common sense or dignity. “Okay. I’ll try.”

      The leering grin split his face like a knife through a half-rotted peach. “That’s good, yay, real fuckin good. You get you started on the morrow, yay. Bump takin he off to he fuckin bed now, ain’t keep Bump’s ladies on the wait longer, dig.” He reached into the bag, took out a handful and held them out to her. “You take them. For friendship.”

      The room spun a little around her when she reached out, let the pills fill her hand. Not too many of them; he was being generous, sure, but generous for Bump was awfully stingy, especially considering all the work she’d done for him. But hey, what was she going to do, turn them down? Free drugs were free drugs, and she wasn’t stupid.

      At least not about that.

      About other things…yeah, totally stupid. As she followed Terrible back out into the predawn chill she had plenty of time to think about how stupid. Despite that second or two of connection he still hated her, wasn’t likely to forgive her. All she was doing was signing herself up for more heartbreak.

      Not to mention the great chance of being killed by the First Elders if she stuck a toe—or said a word—out of place.

      Cold seeped through her jeans from the leather seats. Wings of exhaustion fluttered behind her eyes; she could barely keep them open. Even “One Track Mind” wasn’t helping. The Nips were well and truly gone. She felt like someone had filled her skin with chilly sawdust, too burned out for the Oozers to do much good.

      The drive back to her place seemed to take no time at all. Before she knew it he’d pulled up in front of the steps; she had a sneaking suspicion that she’d fallen asleep.

      “So I guess I’ll see

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