Chapter 40
VI
I don’t go looking for them.
That would be desperate.
Instead, I move through the Rot the way I’ve learned to, steady pace, gaze straight ahead, not rushing, not wandering. Like I belong where I am, even if I don’t.
The mall hums around me the same way it always does.
Low voices. Boots on concrete. A generator coughing somewhere deeper in the building.
The very definition of tedium. The Rot is busiest at this hour, when people are moving between work hubs and wherever they drink or sleep or disappear to afterward.
That’s when I spot Rogue.
He’s leaning against the half-collapsed wall of what used to be a shoe store, one foot braced behind him, talking to a Rotter I don’t recognize. He’s got his mask on, bone-white jaw stark under the flickering lights, body loose like he’s got nowhere else to be.
I hesitate for half a second. Then I walk over.
“Hey,” I say.
He glances up, surprised enough to tell me he wasn’t expecting me. The amusement in his eyes shows me he’s probably smiling under his mask, like he’s deciding how much trouble I’m going to be for him.
“Well,” he says. “If it isn’t our favorite permanent fixture.”
I don’t rise to his dig. “You got a minute?”
The Rotter with him looks between us, then steps away without being told. That tells me more than anything Rogue could say.
He gives me his full attention. “What’s up?”
I lean back against the wall too, mirroring his posture without meaning to. “I had a question.”
“Dangerous start.”
“I’ll try not to disappoint.”
He snorts. “Shoot.”
I don’t jump straight to it. I wait for a group to pass, wait for the corridor to thin out a little.
“My father was the mayor,” I say finally.
That gets a reaction. Rogue stills for a beat. Then he tilts his head. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh,” he says. “Didn’t peg you for a politician’s kid.”
“I wasn’t.”
He studies me more closely now. “That might explain the attitude.”
I ignore that. “You hear anything about him? When everything went down?”
Rogue lets out a breath through his nose. “You fishing, Vi?”
“I’m asking.”
He considers me for a moment. Then shrugs. “Everyone hears things.”
“Like what?”
“Like he went down with the rest of them,” Rogue says. “City imploded. People got blamed. Same old story.”
“That’s what the news said.”
“Yup.”
I nod once. “So you don’t know anything else.”
“Nope.”
“You sure?”
Rogue’s smile thins. “Careful.”
“With what?”
“With pushing.”
Before I can answer, footsteps approach from my left. I don’t need to look to know who it is.
Armen stops beside Rogue, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushes mine. He doesn’t speak right away. Just looks at me, then at Rogue.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“She’s asking about her dad,” Rogue says easily.
“Why?”
I turn to face him. “Because I can.”
He studies me for a long moment. “This isn’t a conversation you want to have here.”
“I didn’t say I wanted it,” I reply. “I just had a question.”
“And you got an answer,” he says. “Drop it. You didn’t win the Favor, remember?”
“I remember that, thanks for reminding me. I asked if you’d heard anything. That’s not the same as being granted the Favor.”
“And I’m telling you it’s not our concern,” Armen says. “Rothwell politics don’t matter in the Rot.”
“They mattered enough to ruin my life.”
“That happened outside,” he snaps. “You’re here now.”
Sting steps into the corridor from the side passage behind me, filling the space in a way that makes my shoulders tighten. He doesn’t crowd me, but his presence pins the moment in place.
There they are, all three of them, all in the same half-masks.
Sting’s gaze flicks from Armen to Rogue to me. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Armen says. “We’re done.”
Sting looks at me. “You don’t look done.”
“I’m not,” I say.
Rogue exhales. “Vi—”
“I’m not asking you to help me,” I cut in. “I’m not asking you to dig up files or shake down old contacts. I just want to know if heard anything. Anything real.”
“Real doesn’t survive long down here,” Sting says.
“That’s convenient.”
“Careful,” he replies.
“With what?”
“With how far you push men who don’t owe you anything.”
The words land like a smack across the face. I take a breath, steadying myself. “I know you don’t owe me. I know I haven’t been here long enough for that. I’m not stupid.”
Rogue watches me closely now. Armen’s stance is rigid. Sting doesn’t move at all.
“I just wanted to ask,” I finish. “That’s it.”
Sting steps closer, not touching but close enough I have to tilt my head slightly to keep eye contact. “You keep pulling on threads,” he says. “That’s how people get noticed.”
“I already am.”
“That’s not the kind of attention you want.”
“Then what kind do I want?” I ask.
His eyes darken. “Not this.”
Rogue clears his throat. “Look, Vi. You’re new. That’s already more attention than you need. Don’t add to it.”
“So just… shut up?”
“Yeah,” Armen says. “That’s exactly what we’re telling you.”
Anger flashes like a kick in my ass, but I bite it back. “Fine.” I push off the wall and step back, forcing space between us.
“I asked,” I say. “You answered.”
I turn and walk away, pulse pounding, the corridor swallowing me up in its darkness. I don’t look back. But I know they’re watching. They’re always watching.