Page 60 of The Shade of Things
“There’s a back door?” I poked at the ragged hem on my jeans that I’d snagged climbing in through the broken window. “That would have been good to know.”
“There’s a parking garage,” Mateo said. “We think we’ll have to drive through the gate to get out. No keys of course, but Rahm claims he can hot-wire anything.”
The Israeli was a criminal? What a refreshing change from the usual Jewish stereotype. A veritable ambassador showcasing our people’s broad potential.
“We rest now,” Felix said.
“We’re using the seventh floor as our facilities,” Isla said. “Should you need them.”
Sadly, I did. I returned, in a fresh T-shirt and reeking of hand sanitizer, as squicked out as I was relieved. I was not a camping enthusiast, and peeing on a concrete floor was somehow worse than urinating in nature.
I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep around all these strangers, but I passed out within seconds of putting my head on my pack.
As blissful as the respite was, my sleep was light and I was quickly brought back to wakefulness by a squeak near my head.
Rahm picked his way through the sleeping figures over to the elevator, carrying his blue pack.
Laurent’s eyes fluttered open sleepily, shut again when the man got into the car, then snapped fully open when the elevator moved. He strode across the floor, watching the numbers.
I joined him.
“He’s going down to the parking garage,” Laurent said.
“You think he’s making a break without us?”
“Merde. We need Isla here to ask if she told him to scout for vehicles.”
She wasn’t on the floor. Bathroom maybe? Speaking of the woman… “Isla’s a Sapien, but she was married to a member of your pack?”
Laurent instantly got that wary look in his eyes, but to my surprise he shook it off. “Yes. Henri. Such a marriage was unusual but not unheard of. He was a carpenter.”
I pressed on carefully. “Did he die when you left?”
He hesitated before nodding this time. However, I was positively giddy that he was sharing, finally trusting me with answers.
But I felt totally crappy that I wasn’t doing the same.
I ran the heel of my palm across my chest. It was great to learn about his pack, but I wanted to know about Laurent. “Why did you leave?”
He didn’t answer me. Sharing time was over.
I’d filled him in pretty thoroughly about almost everything in my life yet he continually refused to answer the smallest thing about himself.
“If you’re going to get on my case about things I withhold from you,” I snapped, “then lose the attitude when I ask a question once in a blue moon.”
“It’s not the same,” he said.
The elevator had begun its ascent.
“Why not? You’re not some international man of mystery with state secrets on the line, Laurent, just another human with a shitty past like a lot of us.”
He rubbed his hand over his curls. “What happened to your parents—”
“I’m not talking about my parents, but even then, I told you about their murder instead of giving you the house fire lie I told everyone else. Yet you, my friend, haven’t shared anything personal. I have to learn it from third parties.” The fire inside me was burning me to ash.
“Like the Wise Brothers?” That predatory smile was back, slightly too feral to be civilized.
The elevator stopped on our floor.
