Bonedust

it was the right amount, and then sent Gabriel off with a little key on a chain. The leather tab said it belonged to Room 4.
    The door swung open to reveal a tidy little bedroom with a full-size bed that took up most the space. There was a black steel table next to the bed with a clock and a single drawer. Off to the side was a small red recliner and a TV that probably didn’t get good reception. There was a battered wooden door and Gabriel opened it to find a tiny bathroom with a shower stall. The toilet and sink looked in no better shape than the ones back at Club Feylinn. He wrinkled his nose and went through the cabinet. Ratty towels and washcloths, an extra roll of toilet paper. Essentials.
    But bingo! The drawer in the bedside table revealed a pair of baggy pants and a robe that looked two sizes too big. He triple locked the door, sliding the chain into place, not that it would keep a hungry, pissed off vamp out. Then he gathered up his stuff and headed for the bathroom.
    He piled the clothes on the toilet lid, the towels hanging on the rack, and cranked the water to hot. To his surprise, a spray of nearly boiling water spat out at him. He turned it down, then stripped. His wet clothes made a squishing sound as they hit the floor. He hung them up to dry.
    He slid into the shower spray, groaning softly at the ripple of water against his tense muscles. Goddess, that felt good. He found a bar of soap and worked at it until the washcloth was covered in white foam. He scrubbed his skin until it felt raw, washed his hair with a floral smelling shampoo, and then just stood under the stream as the water at the bottom of the tub went from murky to clear.
    All he wanted to do was dry off and lie down, collapse into bed and let the pillow cradle his pounding head. Let it lull him to sleep. Instead, he got dressed and surveyed his kingdom, the tiny room and the door. His heart thudded dully as he shoved the recliner up against it, keeping anyone out and keeping himself in. He eased down into the chair and wrapped his arms around his legs. He turned the TV on to an infomercial channel and let the noise drone on.
    He wasn’t watching. His eyes were tracing the now-invisible numbers on his hand. He found a pen in the drawer and wrote them back down. His handwriting was small and messy. He wrote it twice, then three times, as if afraid he might blink and lose it. He sat on the chair, staring at the TV and drawing doodles on his arms, prepping himself for battle.
    As dawn cried bright in the sky, leaking through the grubby window into the room, Gabriel let his guard down. Nerves escaped him in a wheezing breath. Daytime was safe time. Sure, Jeremie could hire an outside source to hunt him down. He wasn’t safe, ever, but somehow, knowing that Jeremie couldn’t come himself calmed his trembling heart.
    Pulling the sheets back, he lay down in the bed, the mattress squeaking gently under his weight. He turned onto his side, fluffed up the pillow and breathed its musty scent. He stared at the window, watching the sky turn from pink to watery blue. Behind the curtain that was his eyelids, he saw Urban’s cocksure smile, his long fingers wrapped around the crystallite pole back at Feylinn. Urban arched his back, snakeskin rippling up his torso, his pale eyes burning into Gabriel’s in a silent promise.
    He’d be back.
    Just a single thought, and something exploded inside of him like fire on gasoline. Hope and excitement mixed in a blender with a cupful of ice and the slightest burn of alcohol. His lips slowly quirked into a smile.
    He’d be back.

Chapter Six

    He got to Umbra Ammo just as the man working flipped the sign to Closed. Gabriel slapped his palms on the glass, panic making him jittery. “Hey! Please, let me in. I just need to buy something—look!” He held up a zael coin and frowned at his reflection. The man merely looked at him, as if he were crazy and needed to be taken away by the Suits.
    “Please. Sir, listen. Just…just open the door.” He cast a glance over his shoulder to the dusk-painted streets. Damnit, he’d slept longer than he should’ve. And what sort of ammunition shop closed before dark? He pounded again and the man’s lips moved behind the glass.
    “I’ll pay double,” he all but yelled.
    The man’s brow lifted and he swung the door in. “Double. No less than double,” he said, his voice tinged with an accent. “In, in.” Gabriel let out a breath and ducked inside and the man