“Not now,” Egg said, his full attention fixed on Sveta.

“You must eat to be healthy. We’ve talk about this.”

“Leave him be, Eng,” Scraping said.

It was such a strange little group, because it did look like they were fairly close, but they were even more different from one another than Sveta, Tattletale and I.

Where Engel was an assault of pleasures to all the wrong senses, Scraping was visceral. Maybe seventy-five percent of his flesh had been flayed, seemingly stretched out, then reattached in folds and arrangements. It looked as though he’d had an artist do it, because the way flesh came together made me think of the overlapping petals of a rose. Here, however, the flayed flesh was used to create accents. Pockets and slivers of crimson against a backdrop of white with inflamed pink edges.

Where he wasn’t flayed, his flesh was badly damaged, like it had been sandpapered or he’d been dangled out of a car and held against the road while the car raced along. He had an Asian cast to his features, and with how he was built and how square his face was, I was guessing he was Chinese. His hair was styled medium-long and straight, his high-quality clothes were chosen to fit the style he wore his flayed skin, black and pinstriped with the ‘ruffles’ of flesh serving in much the same way one might wear a ruffled shirt. Bandages wrapped a part around his neck that I was guessing had been freshly done.

The conversation was so stiff. My eye found a clock above the door, and I noted our dwindling time. Maybe best to push things forward.

“We talked to Semiramis,” I told the trio.

“We have mixed feelings about Semiramis,” Engel said.

I had to wince at the sound of her voice. Damn it, this was uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to derail the conversation.

“Understandable,” I said. I tried to meet her eyes, and then flinched away.

It reminded me of being—of being around Amy, when I’d been altered to be in love with her.

“You do not have to look at me if it’s hard,” she told me. “I won’t be offended.”

I looked away, nodding. “It’s not because you’re a Case Fifty-Three, it’s because—”

“Of my power. Yes,” she said. She’d lowered her voice, which helped. “Often it is people who have been through things who have trouble with me.”

“Tactless,” Scraping said. “Let’s not bring that up.”

“Of course,” Engel said.

“I would have warned you if I’d realized it was this intense,” Sveta said. “We talked online. Almost every day, for a while.”

“We did. I’ve missed those talks,” Engel said. “I love your arms.”