LITMIR.BIZ

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you...”

      “Have him under my spell?” She snorted. “If I were after the Bosses, I’d have had two of them right where the Enforcers could find them. You’ll notice I didn’t alert them.”

      “Because maybe you wanted to catch more than two fish.”

      “But I haven’t tried to escape, and by now—if you were right about me—I’d have realized that my odds of exposing any of the other Bosses would be just about impossible. Maybe we should just agree that you aren’t ready to defect to another crew and I’m not here to betray Sammael, and go on about our business as if nothing has changed.”

      “No deal.”

      “Even if I tell him what you were doing out there with one of The Preacher’s crew?” Phoenix sighed. “Look, I’m not asking you to trust me. Just let me get out of the city.”

      “Not good enough.”

      “What do you want, Brita? I was right before, wasn’t I? It’s not just a matter of your own survival and freedom. You may not be Sammael’s lover, but you’re more than merely his lieutenant.”

      Brita seemed ready to object, but suddenly her shoulders sagged and she looked away.

      “I owe him a lot,” she said. Most Bosses use people who aren’t members of their crews like disposable objects. The Scrappers, everyone who tries to survive here in the Fringe, don’t matter except when they can be useful. And since Bosses only recruit the strongest and meanest people in the Fringe, it’s always the weakest who end up being victims.”

      “And you used to be one of the victims, even though you’re more than human? You must have grown up having to hide what you are.” Phoenix rubbed her lower lip. “What is that, anyway? Not Opir, not dhampir, not Daysider....what are you?”

      They stared at each other. Brita finally broke the impasse.

      “Sammael took chances on a lot of us,” she said. “But we learned fast, and pretty soon we were as good as the other crews. Maybe better, because we didn’t take anything for granted.” She ran her hands through her spiked hair. “If it matters to you at all, Sammael gets food and other necessities to the Scrappers, keeps the worst-off from starving. He holds back some of our booty just for that, even if it comes out of his share.”

      “You make him sound like a paragon of virtue.”

      “He can be as ruthless as any of the others if he’s riled enough. I’ve seen him take down two Bosses, which is why not even The Preacher messes with him, big as he talks. But he’s one of the good guys, if someone like you can see anything past what you’re taught by your government masters.”

      “Not my masters.”

      “So you keep saying. But now your excuse is that you just want to get out of working for Aegis. It’s all lies.”

      “It doesn’t matter what I’ve done or who I am. I’m not here to expose anyone. Sammael will sell me what I need because he can use what I’ll pay him. And once I’m outside the city, you won’t have to worry about my motives, will you?”

      “If you even plan to leave the city.”

      “We’re talking in circles now, Brita,” Phoenix said. “But tell me...does Sammael know what you are?”

      She waited for a tense, extended moment for Brita to inadvertently betray her true relationship with the Daysider. But Brita’s answer was firm and simple.

      “No,” she said. “And I will kill you if you tell him.”

      “Then we do understand each other.”

      Brita stared at Phoenix for a long time. “I’m going to show you something,” she said. “I want you to see this before you go back and betray him to the Enforcers.”

      “I told you I’m not—”

      “I’ll have to take you outside the Hold.”

      “I don’t think Sammael will like that, do you?”

      “This won’t be a trap, if that’s what you’re worried about. I know you want to know more about him, and I’m going to give you that chance.”

      The other woman’s sudden change of attitude both worried and intrigued Phoenix. She couldn’t very well turn down any chance to see more of the Hold or anything else Brita was willing to show her, even though Brita was almost certainly lying about her own motives. “So will you try to slit my throat as soon as we’re outside?” Phoenix asked.

      “I’ll give you fair warning when I’m ready,” Brita said.

      “That’s very kind of you.”

      Brita shrugged. “You stay here.” She strode off, leaving Phoenix right in front of the armed entrance. She returned a few minutes later with the blindfold in her hand.

      “What’s the point in taking me to see something if I can’t see it?” Phoenix asked. “Or are you going to put me up in front of a firing squad?”

      “It’s only until we get there,” Brita said, moving behind Phoenix to tie the cloth around her head. “Then you’ll see everything, I promise.”

      Possibly even my own death, Phoenix thought. But she was still ready to fight, and she wasn’t going down without one.

      Chapter 6

      Brita took Phoenix’s arm, and then they were outside in the damp coolness of early morning, the smell of the bay carried on a chill predawn breeze from the east. Phoenix took particular care to note and memorize the various small changes in scent along their path, the many turns and double-backs, everything that might help her find this way again.

      After a very short while, Phoenix realized they were heading south, toward the Wall. Her heart jumped in her chest. Was Brita going to let Phoenix out of the city without Sammael’s knowledge?

      Soon enough, Phoenix realized her guess was wrong. Brita removed her blindfold and Phoenix saw that they were near the corner of one of the countless decrepit buildings that provided such unreliable shelter for the “citizens” of the Fringe. Brita gestured for Phoenix to stay where she was.

      From her position, Phoenix could see the Wall rising up above the shorter buildings, separated from them by an empty lot. The barrier was studded with thick shards of glass and every other conceivable sharp surface, capable of stopping a would-be human escapee or slowing a Nightsider invader. The top of the Wall was crowned by coil after coil of razor and barbed wire, extending the barrier’s height by another good twenty feet.

      But there were clearly weaker spots in the Wall—small cracks deepened by time and changes in weather, crumbling concrete here and there, evidence of efforts to file down the sharp points that made even touching the Wall so deadly. And along the base, stretching to either side as far as Phoenix could see, were mountains of boxes and metal scraps and every kind of abandoned appliance and machine, arranged in such a way as to appear like garbage thrown against the Wall. It was exactly the deceptive kind of barrier used to block the entrances to Sammael’s Hold.

      A concentrated effort by Aegis or the Enforcers could clear it away in a matter of days, exposing the hidden passages the Bosses kept finding...or creating. But there were never enough Enforcers to waste on patrolling the south Wall and preventing a handful of lawbreakers from escaping every few weeks.

      Phoenix was about to ask what she should be looking for when the faint beam of a headlamp pierced the darkness and a small group of people—men, women and children—crept out of the shadows. Two of Sammael’s crew seemed to be leading them, while several others, armed with stolen Enforcer rifles, followed behind, walking backward to watch for any pursuers.

      Sammael came last. His headlamp was barely bright enough to extend a few inches beyond his face, but he moved easily, as if this place was very familiar to him. He spoke to his crew in

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