Any Port in a Storm Read Free Page B

That's it — even with the hum of the air conditioner, shades run hot.  
    Mira stretches, twisting her back left and right. I hear a crack that sounds too loud in the quiet room. Her black angular bob shows the first hints of grease, and she has it tucked behind her ears. It makes her look weirdly vulnerable.
    "Wane said she'd be back at noon tomorrow with lunch," I say, perching on the end of the bed. "How is he?"
    "Better. He was able to rasp a little when he woke up." Anger lights Mira's features like a current traveling the length of a live wire. "You know what this looks like, right?"
    I nod. I've been purposely avoiding the thoughts, but they're there. Keen blade to the neck screams Mediator. And whoever it was really didn't want to get caught. Which means they know of Saturn's connection to me and either know me personally or are just scared shitless of my reputation.
    I mean, I'll take it. But I don't like the thought that someone whose face I've seen is trying to kill my people.
    "Any ideas who?" I ask.
    "No. Could have been any of those fuckers at the Summit."
    I know which fuckers she means. Since what happened a few months ago, there's been some…unrest in the Summit. Even though Alamea, resident head honcho, just got a medal for having the lowest norm mortality rate in all the US Mediator territories, there are some who think all shades are plain evil. The Summit has hairline cracks through its people, and that makes me almost as nervous as what happened to Saturn.  
    "Do you think it could have been Ben?" Mira says after a beat.
    "If it was, I'll personally put him in bite sized chunks and feed him to Saturn."  
    If my vehemence surprises Mira, she doesn't let on. The mere mention of Ben Wheedle makes me want to shred Mira's hardwood floors with my fingernails. A low growl escapes my throat, and I swallow it.  
    We're both silent for a moment, and I watch the quiet rise and fall of Saturn's chest.  
    "How was hunting tonight?" Mira asks.
    I consider blowing off her question, but sitting here with her is a reminder that she is one of the only Mediators who took a stand when shit hit the demon horde a few months ago, and if I can trust any of these violet-eyed freaks, it's her.
    I tell her about the jeeling and the cat and what happened.
    "It ran away?" A lock of black hair falls over her face, and she absently pushes it back. She still has blood under her fingernails, crescents of rusty color.
    "Turned tail and fled."
    We're silent again.
    "Shit, Ayala. Between that and Saturn, I don't like this. What's changed?"
    I shrug automatically, then freeze.
    I know what's changed. Same thing I've been dealing with since summer. This all started with the shades. We're all adapting to this new dynamic. Humans, Mediators, witches, morphs, psychics — we all coexisted just fine, and the Mediators took care of the hell-front. Then shades happened, and no one knows what the fuck to do with them. I didn't know what the fuck to do with them. Until Mason.  
    Looking at Saturn's still form, that familiar pang twinges at my heart again.
    Why do I get the feeling I'm the one who's going to have to figure this all out?

    Saturn doesn't wake up while I'm there. As much as I will him to open his eyes and talk to me, his body must be exhausted from healing an arterial death-wound, because at three in the morning, Mira and I have covered all the finer points of our favorite Arnold Schwarzenegger movies and Saturn hasn't woken up to tell us to shut up.
    I make my way home and walk through the door to find Carrick sprawled out on my sofa.
    He's wearing shorts — a prerequisite of living with me — and he gives me a nod of acknowledgement.  
    His auburn hair is in a messy bun at the back of his head. He's taken to stealing my hair ties. He's as bad as a cat.
    When I enter the living room after hanging my swords on the hook in my foyer, he moves his leg aside and pats the sofa next to him. I sit, leaning back. The day feels as