Hightower just watches until I'm done. "Back to the fort, then?" I'm sure he can't wait to show off his “catch.”
I nod. I'm done with this for today. I just want to hide in my room and sew.
MHAL
A scent awakens me.
I did not realize I was asleep, but my mind flares to life and my eyes clear as the scent drags me out of…nothingness. I gaze at my surroundings.
The human hive.
I sit above it, next to other dead-eyed drakoni in their battle-form. Something heavy presses onto my mind, and I shrug it off, seeking out more of the scent. I scan the humans below as they move through their nest, picking through the streets. The stenches of all are near-overwhelming, but gliding through the mess of overlapping smells, the thread of her scent remains.
My mate.
I stare down below, looking for her.
There. A female on a metal contraption. She swings her leg off of it and then glances around, rubbing her arms. Her gaze flicks up to me.
She sees me. She knows.
The heaviness sweeps over my mind, pushing me under once more.
The nothingness claims me.
3
JENNY
Hiding away is easier said than done when you live in a fort full of people, though. When we get back, Dina and Nancy—the young girl—are in the room, talking in hushed voices. They stop the moment I enter, and I sit down on my bunk, light a candle, and pull out my sewing, determined to ignore the world.
Or at least, I want to, but my newest scraps are gone. I glance over at them. "Did you guys see the pink cloth that was on top here?"
Dina shakes her head. Nancy just shrugs and won't look me in the eye.
Great. Now I get to room share with thieves. It bugs me, but I'm not going to do anything about it. If I complain and they kick someone out, I'll feel worse knowing I destroyed someone else's life. I just need to hide my stuff from now on. On a hunch, I check under my pillow.
The cornbread's gone. Of course it is. They're hungry and don't trust that their next meal is coming. I can't even be mad, because I was in their place once. I know what it's like to starve and shove anything in my mouth that looks like food.
It means I have nothing to give to Bethany and Michael, though.
Jaw clenched with frustration, I bend over my sewing and lose myself in putting tiny, decorative stitches along the two bits of fabric I'm sewing together. I pick out complementary colors and sew the smaller shreds to bigger ones, until I have larger pieces of fabric, and then I make clothes out of them. I made a dress that I wore until I joined the program, and I've made two blankets and a cloak. I sold both blankets for barter, and I gave the cloak to Bethany because the weather's getting colder.
I'm a little worried about my friend. Her husband has been taking all their money and going gambling with the militia. She and her son rarely have enough to eat, and I feel responsible for them. I'll have to take them something tomorrow…even if I don't have anything right now.
To my relief, dinner ends up being more cornbread, this time slathered in a thick bean paste. I shove my pieces together and hide them under my clothing again, even though my stomach growls. I always know where the next meal is coming from—Bethany doesn't.
Manda watches me but says nothing. She seems distracted tonight.
Once it's lights out, I watch at the door until I see who's at the guard post tonight. It's Evans, and he's easy enough to bribe. I sneak to the door and poke my head out.
"Back inside," he says in a low voice.
"I've got a couple of baseball cards," I offer. "Can I go out for twenty minutes? I promise I won't be long."
He hesitates and then looks around, waiting to see if anyone else is listening. Then he gestures for me to approach. I shut the door behind me, tiptoeing toward him. It's freezing in the hall, but I won't be out long hopefully. I've got my package for Bethany wrapped in cheesecloth and stuffed into my bra, and I hold out the baseball cards for Evans. I have five more stashed under a floorboard, so I only offer him two tonight. I have to parcel things out, after all.
He takes them, pockets the cards, and nods. "Twenty minutes or I'm locking you out."
"Thank you," I breathe.
He shoves a finger in my face. "Don't let anyone touch you or we're both toast."
I shake my head. "I won't."
"I mean it," he states, voice stern. "Tell your boyfriend hands off or your meal ticket ends."
He thinks I have a boyfriend? I want to protest that a boyfriend would be the height of stupidity, but it doesn't matter. Evans doesn't need to know I'm smuggling out food. I nod and race out, letting him shut the door behind me.