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“I have a job for you, to work off your debt. If you do well enough, there’ll be more – it looks like you could use the money.”

I blink, trying to gather my thoughts. What do I have that nobody else has in this damned city? It doesn’t make any sense. “What kind of job?” I ask suspiciously.

“Alastor will text you tonight offering you more work and I need you to say yes.” Seeing my face, she adds, “Not at the club. Charon’s Veil are selling a new product and they need people to move it. I just need you to do a few runs for them.”

“Why would they askme?”

Celeste’s face is unreadable. “You’re desperate for work, easy to manipulate, and according to your very satisfied customers, you don’t cause problems. And if you get picked up by the police, they’ll have a hard time tracing it back to them.”

I swallow. “And what happens to me if I get caught?”

She waves her hand. “You won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

She clicks her fingernails on the plastic of the door. “Because I’ll make sure.”

“Out of all the people in this city, you have got to have better options than me.”

She lifts her hand to my chin and runs her thumb over my cheek. For someone who claims not to want to fuck me she’s awfully handsy. Embarrassingly though, I don’t absolutely hate it.

“You underestimate your own strength, kitten. I’ve seen it myself.” As if suddenly realizing what she’s doing, she lowers her hand and adds, “Besides, you’ve earned Alastor’s trust. That’s useful for me.”

“Useful how?”

She smiles. “Useful by reporting every detail about the work you do for them back to me.”

“What if I don’t want to do it?”

She shrugs. “You could try and repay my favor with cash, though you’d still have to find a job that pays.” Tilting her head, she adds, “Does sucking cock at the Myrrh & Adder sound preferable to you?”

Her words shock me – she seems too pretty and refined to be so vulgar. But she’s not wrong. Not only do I have no other options but I will probably take Alastor’s job anyway. Outside, the city begins to fall asleep, windows blinking out one by one.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it.”

5. WALKING MISERY

Just as Celeste predicted, I get a text from Alastor that same night asking me if I want more work. My finger’s shake when I text back.This doesn’t mean I’m doing this forever,I think.I just need to get through this until I find a real job.

The stupid charity that the Welfare Services lady sent me to handed me a bunch of coupons that would get me blood if the blood bank didn't run out every night before I got there. By the time I get off the bus, everyone and their mother is already waiting in line. There are a few plastic coins for the laundromat though, and I’m dying to use some fabric softener so I can stop smelling like this moldy apartment. It would certainly help the job search, too.

While I’m separating colors from whites, Mav stirs to life on his mattress. He’s been outnearly every night this week, coming home bleary-eyed. Despite the cold, he slept shirtless, a thin layer of sweat slicking his tattooed skin. He looks spacey and disoriented, making me wonder how much Ghostshade it took to make his night bearable.

“You look fresh,” he croaks as he pushes himself up.

I grimace. “You look like crap.” Waving my plastic coins, I add, “Got any washing?”

His smile is crooked and tired. “What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is not wanting to have a repeat of the other night.” I stare determinedly into my laundry pile, hands moving fabric senselessly this way and that, as memories of that night barrage me, just as clear as if it happened yesterday. My skin still remembers every touch – it would be bizarre if it weren’t so disgusting. “There are a few bars on Norns’ Ave I haven’t applied to yet, maybe I could drop my resumé off this week? But I don’t think they’ll hire me if I smell like this place.”

Mav sits up. His voice is sheepish. “Did it go ok? At the club, I mean.”

“Fine,” I lie, not looking at him. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fair.” He gets up and picks through his laundry. Unlike me, he keeps his clean clothes folded and organised.

Feeling both of our discomfort curdle and thicken the air, I decide to change the topic. “Hey, does the name Celeste ring a bell with you?”