it does is get you hurt.
“No, but we are going anyway.” He dipped lower, so low his wings drifted across her cheeks and mouth. They were soft and yet stiff. They felt like tiny kisses. Her belly went weak and loose once again. What would it be like to be kissed by Blake?
Really, Connor was a better choice; he was a heck of a lot nicer...
There was a long, loud grumble. “You can’t keep us here anymore.” Tawny said quietly. “You need to eat, and there is no way to conjure food. That is one thing nobody can do.”
“Yeah, well, if someone had given me a choice, I would have opted for making chocolate show up whenever I wanted it.”
“Me too. Think, a chocolate rain storm with hail sprinkles. Yummy.”
Unbelievably enough, she could still find something to laugh about, and hope for.
“S o I have superpowers, but I still have to steal clothes. This sucks.”
“You are not stealing anything,” Tawny said.
The streets of the city were crowded with tourists and pedestrians. Women with handbags that cost a month’s salary slung carelessly over their shoulders strolled past, models coming from photo shoots or go-sees walked by as well, their faces unmade up and their hair pinned high on their heads, their long legs looking strikingly slim in the fashionable leggings everyone seemed to wear.
“I need jeans,” Tawny said. “No way is my butt going to look anything like that in a pair of leggings.”
“I’m in running shorts, dirty ones at that, and it is cold out here.”
“Quit complaining,” Tawny said. “Go get us some food.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
“The same way you are going to get us clothes. Pay for it.”
“What? Are you tripping? I don’t have a single dollar to my name. I seem to have forgotten my purse on the way to the rescue.”
“You might have the power of suggestion though.”
“What is that?”
“You know, you suggest to the clerk that the piece of paper you are handing over is money.”
“That sounds like bullshit. What if I don’t have the power of suggestion?”
“Then you grab the stuff and run like hell. I’ll be right behind you.”
“So much for being Bat Girl.”
“Look, we do not have money, or rich people who help us out, or any of that. I know you would like to think we do, and it would be freakin’ great if we did, but we don’t. Those are the facts. Welcome to the S.R.”
“Se răscula. It means to revolt. Like, a verb rather than just “revolt,” the noun, because we believe in action.”
“Okay. It sounds Spanish.”
“Romanian. I guess languages aren’t one of your things.”
“Nope, there is a chink in my armor after all.” She was trying to be flippant because at the moment, her spirits were low and her mood too. She wanted Cheetos, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, at that. Those would be worth stealing.
She was grimy, tired, and hungry. The weather was dreary and chill. The people walking past kept looking at her like she was scum, and she knew why: she looked as grimy, dirty, and hungry as she felt.
Blake and Connor had gone to try to find them housing. It was too dangerous to use any Power strong enough to attract attention right then. They had looked as tired as the rest of them, their wings tucked out of sight under coats they had stolen from a store that they walked past.
“I could not use the power of suggestion anyway,” she pointed out.
“Even more reason to grab and dash.”
“That is stealing.”
“Yes, it is. It is a hard world, Krista, and you are just one more babe in these woods. Do you want to die?”
Tawny had stopped dead and was staring right into her eyes. Krista caught sight of them in the plate glass window of the fashionable boutique they stood in front of: she was messier than she had thought, paler too. There were circles under her eyes, and her cheeks had hollows under them.
“Junkies,” a woman with a fur coat and Hermes bag muttered as she went