Gwen rushed to affirm his cover story. “I even met several ofHugh’s SERC councilor colleagues earlier today, Farhanah, including the chair—”
“Tanielle Beech?” The older woman tapped the upper tips of her ears. “The fae female?”
“Yes. She and the others were…not especially welcoming.” Gwen’s nose wrinkled in unhappy reminiscence. “Given what they already think of me, I’d rather not have them discover that I made a, um…booty call…to their colleague.”
Upon her use of the termbooty call, a faint choking sound came from Hugh. She patted his chest apologetically, then nuzzled closer to his very soft sweater. His arms tightened around her in response, forming the world’s warmest, safest cage, and she sighed happily.
Farhanah exhaled slowly. “I’ve heard how the fae can be. I don’t know if you remember this, Gwen, but my daughter works as a secretary for the county clerk’s office. She’s had to deal with a particularly problematic fae male recently. Very demanding and secretive, according to Rania. She’s been complaining about his calls for months.”
Hugh asked the question before Gwen could. “Why did he contact the county clerk’s office?”
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but…” Farhanah lowered her voice to a near whisper. “His company is buying up abandoned Zone properties. He mentioned something about building their new headquarters here because of our cheap land, despite the logistical challenges.”
Before this past week, the Zone had already contained plenty of derelict properties. And since many of the current Zone residents had no doubt died tragically during the zombie breach, their homes would now become available for purchase too. Probablyat rock-bottom prices, at least until the authorities made certain all zombies were dead and tore down the area’s protective walls. Once those walls were gone, though…
Well, the Zone would become a huge swath of available real estate just outside DC, and whoever owned property there would make another, more figurative, killing.
Had the fae splinter group loosed zombies on the Zone residents in a horrifying yet relatively straightforward quest for inexpensive real estate, then? But if that were the case, why did Gwen keep having visions of open, wide-scale warfare? And why would the conspirators’ plans require a pact with a faction of the common human government?
“What else did the fae tell your daughter?” Hugh asked, as if idly curious.
Farhanah didn’t know much more, but she had a lot to say about it. While she spoke and Hugh nodded, Gwen allowed her thoughts to wander toward her latest problem-to-be.
As had just now occurred to her, her rent would undoubtedly skyrocket as soon as the Zone’s walls came down—and where she’d go then, she had absolutely no idea.
But, hey, if I die soon, I’ll never have to deal with that. Silver lining!
“Gwen, I almost forgot again.” Farhanah’s attention returned to her neighbor. “My sister—Haziq’s mother—started renovating her kitchen last week, and she and her husband intend to install one of those built-in microwaves. Which means they’ll be selling their old one even though it’s fully functional.”
Gwen brightened. “I can’t get mine off the popcorn setting.”
“So I remembered,” Farhanah informed her with endearing self-satisfaction. “Would you like theirs?”
Gwen hesitated, her excitement waning. “How much do they want for it?”
“They’re willing to give it to you in exchange for prophetic sessions.” Farhanah’s lips pursed. “I tried to convince them one would be enough, but it’s a nice microwave.”
What would be a reasonable trade? “Would they accept three sessions?”
“It’s notthatnice a microwave.” The other woman crinkled her nose. “Two will be plenty.”
Gwen resisted the urge to pump a fist. “Then yes, please, I’d love to have it!”
“Good.” Farhanah smiled, pleased. “I’ll have them drive it over once the Zone opens back up.”
“When they do, could they possibly bring a drill with them?” Gwen’s head tipped, indicating the apartment to her left. “Ashika needs to secure her new bookcase to the wall so her kids can’t tip it over and get smushed. It’ll only take a minute, I promise.”
Farhanah dismissed Gwen’s assurance with a graceful wave of her hand. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”
Another thought occurred to Gwen. “If your sister happens to be replacing her refrigerator too, can you please ask whether she’d be willing to give her old one to the family across the hall? Theirs is on the fritz, and it’s urgent. I’d be happy to offer as many sessions as your sister wants in payment.”
Her neighbor’s sobs had drifted through the thin apartment walls a few nights ago, so Gwen had whipped up enough Swiss Miss to share, paid a visit, and found out what was happening.
She leaned in close and whispered to Farhanah, “Monica’sbreast milk keeps spoiling. She can’t go to work if her baby has nothing to eat, and she can’t afford to miss another shift.”
Barry was working too, but without Monica’s income, they’d end up in a shelter again.
“I’ll ask,” Farhanah promised.
