That kind of razing is a tactic I recognize from his father. It was Nik Nik who folded in upstarts, who turned any would-be rival gangs into sanctioned runners wearing his colors. Nik Senior would kill them all or leave them and their families without defense or supplies in the deep wastes. It is the descendants of his enemies who still haunt the edges of the wasteland, mouths blistered and minds rotted from two generations of toxic water and polluted plants.

I won’t tell enforcement, but knowing how many dead I’m ignoring is like knowing how to spell the name of the demon who bought your soul. When I was with Nik Nik, I wrote the names of people he’d hurt in a book while wearing his gifts. That’s all I’m doing now, looking Adam’s crimes in the face while getting lightheaded over the size of the kill bonus he gave me.

It doesn’t take long for Jean to call me, early enough in the morning for me to know he’s not just checking in.

“You know I can see what my username is pulling up, right?”

“I’m not doing anything about it,” I say, because that’s what he’s actually called to ask. “I just need to know.”

He isn’t really angry—irritated, maybe, but mostly concerned—so when he gives in with a sigh, it’s more pre-planned theatrics than an actual shift in his mood.

“Get it out of your system, Cara,” he says. “But keep it to yourself. Give Adam Bosch no reason to take his due.”

“You make it sound like he’s going to garnish my wages or something.”

He clucks his tongue at my ignorance. “The only due powerful men recognize is a life—in service or in sacrifice.”

Something about what he says slides into the back of my neck like a talon, and even after he hangs up I can’t shake this new uneasiness. Only when I’m getting ready for work does it hit me: The only due powerful men recognize is a life…and the runners said they were coming to the Rurals to collect the emperor’s due. I check the date on my cuff, but it’s too late. If they stuck to their plan, they went last night. I’d forgotten, among all of the corporate espionage and murder and selling my soul, I’d forgotten that runners were coming for my sister’s stash last night and she didn’t want them to take it. I think about the star on the runner’s throat on 175. Maybe the funeral wasn’t the first time he’d seen her. Maybe he’d come for exactly what he had on another world. Or maybe Nik Nik decided to get power in the Rurals on this Earth the same way Adra claimed it there.

    I press my cuff so I can call her, but before I can dial, it rings. When I see my family’s number, I expect it to be someone saying Esther’s name and calling me home through sobs, so when I hear her clear, even voice I calm instantly. I’m prepared for whatever comes next, because it is not the worst.

“You’re okay?” I say. “I thought the runners were coming for you.”

“Not me,” she says. “They took him. Michael’s gone.”

In the background I can hear my mother, frantic and wailing while my stepfather tries to soothe her.

“Gone how?”

“There were runners here this morning. Mom thinks they kidnapped him.”

Mom thinks means Esther doesn’t. Which means he’s run away with them, probably.

“I’m on my way.”

I call Dell to let her know I won’t be in. What would Bosch do if I didn’t call in? Does the information I hold make me unfireable? He does have an entire murderous department standing around with too little to do, so probably best not to risk it.

It’s midmorning when I make it home, but I’m already sweating in my Wiley City clothes. Esther offers me use of her closet, but I’d rather dehydrate than wear the light dresses of a Ruralite. My stepfather hugs me tight and I feel his wet face against my shoulder. I realize then that this man is too open for subterfuge, regardless of what he was capable of on 175.

    “You were never letting the runners take powder from you, were you?” I ask.

Confusion clears his grief a little, but he shakes his head. “The missing powder? I think it was just Michael taking extra without logging it. He was practicing, probably.”

Not practicing, stockpiling, because he knew he was leaving soon. The runners were only ever coming for him. He was the emperor’s due all along.

“How long has he been gone?”

Daniel shakes his head. “I don’t know. It was sometime in the night. Some of his clothes are missing, but most are still here.”

Of course they are, because a Ruralite turning runner isn’t exactly going to bring his collection of tunics. I bet he took only the white tank tops the boys here use as undershirts.

I turn to Esther. “Did you hear him go?”

I doubt there was a struggle, but Esther’s room faces Michael’s.

“No, I…” Esther looks down. “I stayed up in the storeroom all night.”

Because she thought they were coming for her powder, and because I’ve never been able to make her listen to me. I tell myself her stubbornness was for the best. She would have tried to stop Michael, and this way she missed the runners entirely.

“I might know where”—I slide my gaze over to my mother—“they would have taken him. I’ll see if he’s there.”

“It’s too risky,” Daniel says.

His concern allows me to separate the 175 version from this one. This is my stepfather, and he loves me. Or, he loves who he thinks I am and that’s the best I’ve got.

“I’m a resident. They’ll think twice before trying to hurt me. Plus, I have money, hopefully enough to buy him back.”

Or to tempt them into casting him out. Runners are a loyal bunch, but if I can get to him before he takes his first mark they won’t feel obligated to keep him.

    “I’ll go with you,” Daniel says.

My mother squeals.

“If the head of the Rurals is seen at a runners’ den, word will travel,” Esther says. “I’ll go. I do outreach in the heart of Ash all the time. It won’t be unusual for me to be seen there.”

There is no sound of distress from my mother at putting Esther in danger.

Daniel takes my sister’s face in his hands. “Send both my girls out into that vile town? My most precious things?”

I doubt he even remembers that I was born in “that vile town” anymore, his mind rewriting Caramenta’s history so it is no different from his Rural-born children.

“It will be fine,” I say. “I’ll keep her safe.”

Daniel looks a little sad, but he smiles. “And who will keep you safe?”

I don’t have an answer for that, but Esther does.

“You don’t know, Father? God herself holds Cara in the palm of her hand.”

I glare at my sister for what I think is a tease, but her face is open and sincere.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Three hundred and eighty-two worlds and I bet every Hangars Row smells just like this: sweat, dirt, gasoline, and smoke. It smells a little like the side rooms at the House, but mixed with a zoo. The smell hits me like a wall that is half revulsion and half memory, but I can tell it hits Esther harder, a hell of a smell for a girl raised around open earth and interior farms.

The space used to be a warehouse, back when corporations drilled and polluted our land, working even our children till their hands bled. They were based in cities like Wiley, but like all the city-based companies, they didn’t adhere to any of the same labor laws once they weren’t dealing with citizens. That’s why the emperor had to send a message.

It only took a little murder and a lot of vandalism for those places to learn that whoever had given them access to the land had lied; Ashtown was not theirs to claim or pillage. The Blood Emperor himself disabled the last drill. Our water’s been cleaner and our ground more steady ever since, or so the story goes. Even Eldridge’s industrial hatch—the machine that brings in resources from other worlds—is careful to treat its Ashtown workers fairly, with runners checking in every so often to make sure.

The first runner to see us slides out from under her vehicle. The monstrosity she’s working on is technically a bike, but the two tires are wider than any two ordinary car tires combined. She hisses a little at me, but nods at Esther.

    “Thought you stuck to the alleys. No souls to save here and we don’t need your food.”

Esther’s smile is different from Daniel’s. It’s calm and benevolent, but it leans close enough to a smirk that she never looks na?ve.

“I would never bring aid here,” she says. “I’m sure you all eat better than any in my congregation.”

“Damn right we do.”

“Mr. Scales, that’s enough.”

The runner turns away at the command, which means the one who gave it outranks her.

“Don’t tell me you’ve caught another body?” Mr. Cheeks says when he sees us.

Mr. Scales ducks her head when Mr. Cheeks passes, bringing her chin so low they almost look the same height even though she’s easily half a foot taller. He taps her on the shoulder, telling her she’s not in trouble, and suddenly she’s the tallest in the room again.

“No, I’m looking for someone. He’s a new recruit. He would have arrived last night,” Esther says. “I don’t want to cause trouble, but I do need to speak with him.”

Mr. Cheeks either doesn’t realize I don’t want to cause trouble is a threat or doesn’t care, because he’s already shaking his head. “Once a runner, a runner for life. Not even the princess of the Rurals can convert a runner.”