We follow the couple into a parking lot across the street that’s sandwiched between two buildings. There’s only one row of parking spaces, and from what I can tell, they’re all full of city buses. The other side of the lot is just a stone wall with ivy dripping over the edge. Solar lights line that side, but the dim glow doesn’t reach the shadowed buses.

Reina and Diantha do nothing to hide the click of their spiked heels, and the man turns his head to glance at us as he grabs the woman’s elbow and leads her around the side of the last bus.

We turn the corner as he pulls open the passenger side door of a flashy car.

“Hello there.” Over-the-top sweetness drips from Reina’s voice, like she’s about to make him choke on a bag of sugar.

The man doesn’t respond. “Get in,” he tells the woman.

She takes a wobbly step away from him.

“I said get in,” he grits out.

“I don’t think she wants to go.” Reina steps toward the girl.

“I have an obligation to take her home.”

“Right.” Diantha moves closer to him. Her normally warm voice drops below freezing. “And are you taking her home?”

There’s one damning moment of hesitation before he says, “Of course.”

“We’ll be taking her from here,” Reina says, like we’re friends offering a favor.

“Like hell.” He lets go of the woman and takes a threatening step toward us.

I glance between Reina and Diantha. Maybe I should reach for my knives. Diantha’s face gives nothing away, but there’s a slight curl in Reina’s lips that stops me. I’m not going to need my knives.

Wings flutter. I was so focused on the man that I didn’t see them before. Three seagulls sit perched on the stone wall. They take off and fly at the man’s head like he’s got a sandwich on top of it. He swears and bats at them, stumbling forward where his toe meets a root that’s just grown out of a crack in the ground. He falls forward and lands on his hands and knees before darting up again.

“What are you? Fucking witches?” he growls before the birds are diving at him again, pecking at his head as he slaps at them.

Diantha steps calmly around him and slides under the girl’s arm, helping her move away from the car as the man stumbles around the front of it, muttering the whole time about witches, until he reaches the driver’s side. He gets in and slams the door behind him. The tires squeal as he pulls out. The gulls squeal too as they drift upward and fly away.

Reina waves at them, and it only seems a little weird.

The adrenaline I didn’t even register fades as my muscles relax.