A blank wall.
What the hell is this? Some kind of magical roach motel? “Mages check in, but they don’t check out?”
It was impossible.
It was the truth.
“Lady. Hey, lady. Gimme dollar?”
A man—a boy, really, younger than Eric—came shuffling out of the alleyway to her left. He had the look so many of the homeless had, as if he’d been sucked dry of some vital component; prematurely haggard, but no less dangerous for that. There were two more behind him, obviously there to follow his lead and share in any bounty he acquired.
She held her ground. To back away would only encourage them. Most predators—including the human predator—would chase anything that ran.
“You one a’ them angels. You come down here, you gotta gimme dollar. Whaddya say, angel? Gimme dollar?”
He was close enough for her to smell him now. His hands were stuck in his pockets, clutching a knife, a club, or even i