She motioned to the tattoos on the man's arms. "Nice."

He smiled in what seemed to be a friendly way. "My son did that. Rabbit. He has a shop—"

"You're Rabbit's dad?" She stared. There was no family resemblance that she could see, especially when she realized that this meant he was also Ani and Tish's father.

The man smiled wider still. "You know him?"

And his sisters.

"Look like their mothers. All of them. I'm Gabriel. Nice to meet…" He scowled then, causing her to step backward and stumble—not in fear, not even then, but in wariness.

But his scowl wasn't directed at her. The creepy dealer from the house had stepped around the corner. He said, "Come back inside."

"No." She collected her bag from the grass where it had fallen. Her hands shook as she clutched it and tried not to look at the dealer walking toward her or at Gabriel. Fear surged. Delayed and dulled as it was, it still made her feel like running.

Is Gabriel here to see Ren? Rabbit never talked about his dad; neither did Ani and Tish. Is he a drug dealer too? Or just an addict?

Gabriel stepped in front of the dealer. "Girl's leaving."

The dealer reached out toward Leslie. And without thinking, she grabbed his arm, wrapped her fingers around his wrist and held it immobile and away from her body.

I could crush him. She paused at her thoughts, at the weird calm settling back over her, at the weird confidence. I could do it. Break him. Bloody him.

She tightened her grip just a little, feeling bone under the skin, fragile, in the palm of her hand. Mine to do with as I want.

The dealer wasn't fazed by her grip, not yet. He was talking, telling Gabriel, "It's cool, man. She lives here. It's not a—"

"Girl's leaving now." Gabriel looked at Leslie and smiled. "Right?"

"Sure," she said, looking dispassionately at her hand curled around the dealer's wrist. She squeezed harder.

"Bitch. That hurts." The dealer's voice grew shriller.

"Don't cuss in front of the girl. It's rude." Gabriel made a disgusted noise. "No manners these days."

Something's wrong here.

Leslie tightened her grip again; the dealer's eyes rolled back in his head. She felt bones splintering and saw white through broken skin.

I'm not strong enough to do that.

But she stood there, holding the dealer's wrist in her hand, still squeezing. He'd passed out from the pain, dropped to the ground. She let go.

"Where you headed?" Gabriel handed her a dark rag.

She wiped her hand, watching the immobile man at her feet. It wasn't sadness or pity she felt. It wasn't… anything. It should be, though. She knew that, even if she didn't feel it.

"Why are you here?"

"To rescue you, of course." He grinned, baring teeth that looked like he'd filed some of them to points. "But you didn't need rescuing, did you?"

"No." She nudged the dealer with her foot. "I didn't. Not this time."

"So let me give you a lift, since my rescue services weren't needed." He didn't touch her, but put a hand behind her as if he'd rest it on the small of her back.

Not lying. His words felt true, not whole, not all there, but not lying.

She nodded and walked away from her house.

Some part of her thought she should be angry or frightened or ashamed, but she couldn't feel those things. She knew that somehow she had changed, as surely as she knew Gabriel hadn't truly lied.

He led her around the side of the house to a screaming-red Mustang, a classic convertible with black and red seats and vibrant detailing on the exterior.

"Get in." Gabriel opened the door, and she saw that what she'd initially thought were flames on the sides of the car were actually a throng of racing animals, stylized dogs and horses with odd musculature and what looked like smoke writhing around them. For a brief moment, the smoke seemed to move.

Gabriel followed her gaze and nodded. "Now that I did myself. Boy might look like his dam, but he's got my art."

"It's gorgeous," she said.

He slammed the door behind her and went around to the driver's side. After he slid the key into the ignition, he gave her a smile that was the exact same look she'd seen on Ani's face before she did something inevitably unwise. "Nah. Gorgeous is how fast she moves. Hook your belt, girl."

She did, and he took off with a scream of tires that could barely be heard over the roar of his obviously modified engine. She laughed at the thrill of it, and Gabriel gave her another Ani-ish grin.

She let the rush roll over her and whispered, "Faster." That time it was Gabriel who laughed.

"Just don't tell the girls you got to go for a ride before they did, okay?" She nodded, and he accelerated until he topped out the speedometer and delivered her to work remarkably early— and laughing.

"Leslie? Leslie!" Sylvie waved her hand in front of Leslie's face. "Damn. What are you smoking?"

"What?" Leslie tilted the glass of soda, pouring a little out so it wouldn't spill. Thoughts of Niall, of her nightmares of Irial, of her promise to talk to Aislinn, of the weirdly costumed crowd, of the surreal encounter with Rabbit's father, of her assault on the dealer at the house— they tangled and spun in her mind until she wasn't sure of what had really happened at all. Did I break his arm?

"Get some sleep or something tonight. You're a mess." Sylvie made a disgusted sound. Then she pointed to the main room. "The couple in section three need their check. Now."

"Right." Leslie set the drinks on her tray and headed back into the din of the restaurant.

The rest of the shift passed in a blur. Leslie smiled and kept herself on autopilot. Bring the drink. Inane chitchat. Smile. Always remember to smile. Sound sincere. She was tired, exhausted really, but she got it done. Table by table, order by order, she got it done. That's how life worked: just keep moving, and it'll pass.

When her shift ended, she cashed out her tips and folded the money—my ink fund—into her pocket and made a mental note not to leave it out where her father or Ren could see it. She walked down Trestle Way, too tired to bother seeing who was out and about. I just want to crash. She'd gone a few blocks when she bumped into Ani and Tish.

"Leslie!" Ani squealed. She was terminally incapable of speaking at a reasonable volume. "Ohmygods, you look awful."

Tish shoved her sister. "Tired. She meant you look tired. Right, Ani?"

"No. She looks, you know, like she needs to go relax." Ani was unapologetic as always. "We're going to the Crow's Nest. You in?"

Leslie summoned up a smile. "I'm not sure I could walk that far tonight. … Hey, I met your father earlier. He's nice."

As they walked, Leslie filled them in on select details— omitting Gabriel's giving her a ride to work and her own impossible violence. Leslie felt her knees go wobbly when they turned on Harper. Too tired for this. She drew a few breaths, stopped moving. Near her were several people cowering in terror, backs to the wall as if something horrid were leering at them. One wept, begging for mercy. Leslie couldn't move.

"Just vagrants, Les. Bad drugs or something. Come on." The sisters kept walking, propelling her along with them.

"No." Leslie shook her head. It was something else. She tried to see it, sure something was there, like a shadow that lay atop the other shadows.

She started to walk toward the shadows, as if a string had found its way into the middle of her belly and she were being reeled in. A man was dancing manically on a stoop, which was weird enough, but he also seemed to be covered in thorns like shimmering green rose stems.