Gates of Thread and Stone(5)

I thanked him again for the groceries and left. I turned down the hill toward the docks. The river separated the North District from the East Quarter, and while plenty of bridges connected them, only a few were safe to cross. The pimps ruled the riverfront, and you had to be careful there any time of day.

A thick wooden post stood next to the dirt road leading to the docks. I traced my fingers along the post and smiled when I found a new notch cut into the moldy wood in the shape of a K. Whenever Reev or I passed this post, we made sure to leave a mark to let each other know that we’d been there and we were okay. I dug a fingernail into the wood below the K and carefully scratched in an R.

The city odors took a noticeable shift as I neared the river. The docks smelled like damp wood and mildew. Trees dotted the banks, but their branches remained stark even in summer. The bark looked scarred, rotted in areas, forming strange depressions: lumps and rivets like its organs bared.

Along the bridge, couples lingered. That would’ve been sweet except I knew most of them were prostitutes with their customers. Some of them didn’t even bother trying to shield what they were doing. I wondered if anyone had ever fallen into the river that way.

You’d think the smell would be a mood killer, but what did I know? I’d never even kissed a boy.

The Raging Bull was the fifth building down the long strip of businesses along the riverfront. All the windows were painted red. A large sign announced “Half off during Week of Sun.”

I ignored the drunken calls of men on the boardwalk and opened the door. Reev stood near the entrance in his usual spot, arms crossed and doing his best “Don’t mess with me” impression. He made it look natural. More than six feet and built like a stone slab, Reev could be pretty intimidating when he wanted to be. That was how he’d gotten this job. Not my top choice for him, but admittedly, there weren’t many.

When he saw me, he frowned. I waved and held up the bag from Drivas’s.

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop coming here? It’s not safe,” he said, pulling me into the lobby. His hand warmed my elbow.

I scanned the lobby. Two women chatted behind the front desk, the only people besides us in the small area.

I shoved the bag against his chest. “You never eat unless I bring you something, so quit complaining.”

One of the women waved. I waved back halfheartedly. Angee liked to introduce herself as Reev’s girlfriend, and I had never heard Reev confirm or deny it. She was nice enough, but I wished she’d stop trying to befriend me. The woman next to her had tight brown curls, heavy makeup, and nothing to cover her smooth, dark skin but a transparent slip. She nodded at something Angee said, while her eyes stayed on Reev.

I didn’t like the way she—and the other prostitutes, men and women—looked at him. The way their gazes lingered, the way their half-naked bodies pivoted toward him whenever he entered the room. I wanted to step between them and Reev, and tell those people that he wasn’t like the clients who paid for them.

But I suspected they knew that. And it was why they wanted him.

“Is this your sister?” the woman next to Angee asked. She looked at us and pursed her lips into a pretty pout. “She doesn’t look a thing like you.”

I scowled. Reev had wavy, dark-brown hair and gray eyes. His nose had a slight hook, and he had thin lips and an angular jaw. I, on the other hand, had straight black hair and almond-shaped eyes that weren’t quite blue—more like a watered-down version. Reev once said they were like the icicles that formed on the tree branches in winter. My lips were fuller, and I used to press my fingertip against my pointy chin as if I could imprint a cleft there like Reev’s. The rest of me was skinny enough to look malnourished, and the top of my head reached just shy of Reev’s shoulder.

We didn’t share a single physical trait, because Reev wasn’t actually my brother.

He’d found me when I was eight. He’d been younger than I was now—sixteen and barely able to feed himself—but he rescued me off the riverbank and raised me as his sister.

“How much did it cost?” Reev asked, taking the grocery bag from me. “Should I transfer some credits?”

I shook my head. “Avan gave us fresh bread. As fresh as it can be, I mean. I’m pretty sure that’s fresher than usual.”

He frowned again. He didn’t approve of Avan because of his reputation, but the free food required his grudging acceptance of our friendship. “You should get home now. There’s an energy drive down the street, and they’ll be here for the next couple days.”

I understood what that meant. The Alley had several energy clinics, but the drives held near the river were geared toward the people in the Labyrinth—and those afraid to wander too far from the safety of its narrow walls. Energy drives meant free credits to anyone who didn’t mind needles, and it brought out even the most desperate of folks. Reev didn’t want me running into any of them.

“Where’d you hear that?” I hadn’t seen it on my route this morning.

“One of the girls told me. She was just there.”

I ignored the way my stomach knotted whenever he talked about the girls who worked with him. “If you even think about volunteering, I’ll kick you. When you’re asleep.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Of course not. Same to you. Minus the kicking.”