I shuffled in, a stir of excitement quickening my pulse as I scanned the long front counter for Francis. “There he is,” I whispered.

Almost hidden behind a fake tree, Francis was talking to a young woman in a city uniform. The Percy charm was having its usual effect, and she looked annoyed. Three boxes were on the counter beside him. My continued existence was in those boxes.

Nick pulled gently on my good elbow. “Let’s sit you down over here, Mother,” he said.

“Call me that again and I’ll take care of your family planning for you,” I threatened.

“Mother,” Jenks said, his wings fanning my neck in fitful spurts.

“Enough,” Edden said softly, a new hardness in his voice. His eyes never left Francis. “All three of you are going to sit over there and wait. No one moves unless Percy tries to leave. I’m going to make sure those boxes don’t get on a bus.” His gaze still on Francis, he touched the weapon hidden behind his jacket and casually made his way to the counter. Edden beamed at a second clerk before he even got close.

Sit and wait? Yeah, I could do that.

I gave in to Nick’s gentle pull and moved toward the bank of chairs. They were orange, same as at the FIB, and looked equally comfortable. Nick helped me ease down into one, taking the chair next to mine. He stretched out and pretended to nap, his eyes cracked to watch Francis. I sat stiffly with my bag on my lap, clutching it as I had seen old ladies do. Now I knew why. I hurt all over, and I felt like I would fall apart if I relaxed.

A kid shrieked, and I took a quick breath. My eyes drifted from Francis, busy making an ass of himself, to the other patrons. There was a tired mom with three kids—one still in diapers—arguing with a clerk over the interpretation of a coupon. A handful of businessmen absorbed in their business, striding importantly, as if this was only a bad dream and not the reality of their existence. Young lovers pressed dangerously close, probably fleeing parents. Vagrants. A tattered old man caught my eye and winked.

I started. This wasn’t safe. The I.S. could be anywhere, ready to tag me.

“Relax, Rache,” Jenks whispered as if reading my mind. “The I.S. isn’t going to nack you with the captain of the FIB in the same room.”

“How can you be so sure?” I said.

I felt the wind on my neck as he fanned his useless wings. “I’m not.”

Nick opened his eyes and sat up. “How are you doing?” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine,” Jenks said. “Thanks for asking. Did you know some lunker at the FIB snapped my freaking wing off? My wife is gonna kill me.”

I managed a smile. “Hungry,” I answered Nick. “Exhausted.”

Nick glanced at me before returning his gaze to Francis. “You want something to eat?” He jingled the coins in his pocket, left over from the cab fare to the FIB. “You have enough for something out of the machine there.”