Chapters (52)
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Acknowledgments
- Read More from the Market of Monsters Series
- More Books from HMH Teen
- About the Author
- Connect with HMH on Social Media
Nita didn’t know how to respond to that. Kovit had done an awful lot of other terrible things in his life, much worse than killing Henry. But she just squeezed his arm gently, understanding that some crimes might be objectively less terrible but emotionally much more impactful.
There were still plans to be made, set ups to be done for meeting Alberto Tácunan later today. But for now, there was just them and the understanding that sometimes people you loved betrayed you, and sometimes cutting them out of your lives was the only way to heal yourself, even if you lost a piece of your soul doing so.
Twenty-Nine
THEY NAPPED FOR A BIT, then ordered delivery. Kovit released Fabricio, and the three of them ate in silence, tense for what had to come next, the whole point of their trip to Buenos Aires in the first place.
In two hours, they were meeting Alberto Tácunan.
Fabricio’s whole body was tight with tension as he ate, and he kept staring blankly at the pizza and then shuddering slightly. Occasionally, he’d take slow, calming breaths, and Nita wondered what memories he was reliving that haunted his expression so. She thought of asking, but she didn’t think he’d answer. And she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to know.
The walk to the hotel was quiet and charged. They had to stop at a few places for Nita to pick up supplies, and the whole time Fabricio’s shoulders were tight, and he hunched over slightly, trying to make himself smaller. His eyes flicked around, his expression a strange combination of terror and determination. Nita kept close to him in case he got cold feet and decided to make a break for it.
But he didn’t. His forehead gleamed with nervous sweat, but his mouth was set.
She wondered at the three of them, all terrified of the people who’d raised them, all warped and twisted and destroyed in some way or another by the black market as they grew up. She wondered if they were like trees that started growing sideways young and could never straighten out, would always be deformed in some way, or like chameleons, who could lose a tail and just grow themselves a new one given enough time.
As they walked, Nita noticed the hunters. Normal people on the way to work, their eyes nervous and sharp as they scanned the streets. Baristas in coffee shops, their eyes too focused on each person who came in, examining their features as though wondering, Is that the zannie?
A shorter, slightly round young man walking along got accosted a block ahead of them by two civilians, who demanded he take off his sunglasses prove he wasn’t a zannie. Nita could hear the man’s indignant protests, asking how they could mistake him for Thai when he was so obviously Argentinian.