When we reached the gate, Liam retrieved his weapon. I expected to say my good-byes, but as we passed through the gate, and even as I felt some of the pressure in my chest loosen, he fell into step beside me.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” I said halfheartedly. It had been a while since I needed to fight someone, and now I’d done it twice in one night. I didn’t need protecting, but that was enough to push me off balance. I wouldn’t mind the company.

Liam didn’t buy the bravado—or didn’t care about it. “Tonight, you have an escort.”

We walked silently down the street. “Will Solomon give you more trouble?”

“Solomon always gives me trouble. He’s a long-term problem.”

“Why doesn’t Containment handle him?”

“Because he’s an asset. He has information. And when you’re dealing with enemies on your own soil, you’ll put up with a lot to get good information. Someday, he’ll run his mouth off to the wrong person. Until then, I’ll deal with it.”

I didn’t doubt that one bit. Liam Quinn didn’t seem the type to shy away from conflict.

“Probably not the way you expected War Night to go,” he said.

“No, not exactly. I spent time with my friends before the wraiths, at least.” I stopped, looked at him. “I saw you in the Quarter. We took a break, and you were on the sidewalk.”

He went silent, and I would have given a handful of District tokens to know what was spinning around in his head.

“You came out of the crowd like a dervish,” he finally said. “All that red hair flying around.”

“You have a way with words. I’m not saying it’s a good way, but it definitely could be described as a ‘way.’”

He grinned. “Dervish,” he said again. “I think that would make a good nickname for you.”

“No.” And since I’d enjoyed his manly grin a little too much, I changed the subject to something that would definitely keep my mind off it. “So, Blythe. She’s your girlfriend?”

“Not anymore.” He ran a hand through his hair, biceps flexing with the move. “But it’s a long story, and I didn’t want to get into that with Eleanor. She worries.”

“Ah.” I suspected Eleanor didn’t have anything to worry about where Liam Quinn was concerned, but I kept that to myself.

And when he lowered his arm and that muscle flexed again, I ignored that, too.

•   •   •

The night had been so weird I half expected to find the shop door open, the shelves looted. It wouldn’t be the first time. A few months after the war ended, we had an unusually cold December. It was too cold to plant anything, and there were virtually no shipments into the Zone. One night, someone broke in, ransacked the store for the few MREs that were left. They’d shattered one of the front windows, knocked over antiques, left a general mess in their frustrated search for food. It being the Quarter, half a dozen folks showed up the next morning to get things in order again. And it wasn’t long after that that the convoys began moving supplies through the Zone.

Tonight, the store was intact, locked, and quiet. The tree limb and broken sign were gone, as was any sign of the wraiths I’d fought.

“I’ll let you know about Nix,” Liam said. “I’m going to try to get her here sooner rather than later.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

We looked at each other for a few seconds. I found it suddenly so odd that I hadn’t even known this man existed a few hours ago. A wraith attack, his intervention, a Containment interview, a trip into Devil’s Isle, and everything that had gone on there. We’d gone from strangers to strange allies. And considering how we’d done it, it wasn’t as horrible as it could have been.