Page 6 of Practical Boots

Grace put her hand over Cat's, smiling. "Good luck with whatever you decide, Ms. Sharp."

Embarrassed pleasure shot through Cat. "Thanks. Good luck to you, too." She rose and went to the door, then hesitated there, looking back. "Ms. Law?"

"Mmhmm?" The woman looked up from the book she was picking up.

Cat passed her hand over her wrist, covering the clunky, sports-style black watch she wore. A twist of power reshaped it to something sturdy but pretty, with knobbly bits and rattling things inside. She took it off, then returned to Grace, nerves making her hands tremble as she offered her the newly-shaped baby rattle. She had told her father an Artifact couldn't be changed, once made, and that was true. But the former watch's purpose hadn't changed, only its appearance; magic appreciated a finely-split hair. "I know this must seem like a really strange thing to say, but I'd like you to take this. As a gift for the baby. And…if you're ever in trouble, if you press the studs counter-clockwise from the top left, and then all four of them together…I'll come right away. I'll be there to help you."

Confused amusement touched Grace Law's smile, although she took the rattle to admire it. "This is beautiful, but I don't see how I could possibly accept it. It's obviously expensive, and I'm a total stranger to you."

"It's not exactly expensive. I made it out of parts I had available," Cat said honestly. "I have more at home, and I'd really like you to have this one. For the baby," she repeated.

Grace hesitated, brushing her thumb over the rattle curve. "I shouldn't take it. But…it's the first baby gift anybody's ever thought—or known—to give me." She looked up, her eyes bright. "Thank you, Ms. Sharp. I'll treasure it."

A chime rang in Cat's ears, pure tone that she was certain only she could hear, and relief loosened a tightness around her heart. "You're welcome. Take care, Ms. Law."

She left the waiting room, the office, and the building, thensteppedback to New York in time to deposit the check before her bank closed.

* * *

Her own apartment looked like a little slice of Hell, compared to the fertility clinic's waiting room. Cat stood in the doorway of the grungy living room, looking around at the badly painted walls where, in places, painted-over newspaper repaired holes. She'd reclaimed most of the furniture from sidewalks, using her ability tostepto get to it before other people could, and saving herself the trouble of trying to fit it up narrow stairwells or around tight corners. The kitchenware came from thrift stores and the rarely-used electronics, from repair or pawn shops. She had chosen, and decorated, the apartment during her first weeks in the World, when she had virtually no money and even less sense of who she was, or what she could do on this side of the Torn.

And she had loved it.

She still did. It was the first space that had ever truly been her own. Everything else she'd ever had was handed down, usually grudgingly, from her father: her room, her clothes, her education; everything had been his, or chosen by him. When she'd gotten more money, back then, she'd spent it first on a courier bike, then on clothes, garbing herself in fashions as far away from those of the Torn as possible. It hadn't taken long to settle on a style and a wardrobe she'd liked, and since then, upgrading hadn't really occurred to her.

She could afford better; she'd been able to for ages now. But it struck her that maybe she stayed in this little grey hole because she was still trying to hide from her damn father. Since he'd found her now, and extracted an oath that meant she was at his beck and call, maybe hiding out in a hovel wasn't quite as necessary as before.

Not, if she thought about it objectively, that it had ever really been necessary. He hadn't exactly been looking for her. But a lifetime of trying to avoid his attention carried weight that she wasn't easily able to shed.

Weight that her younger sibling would never have to carry.

Cat sank into the sprung, thin-cushioned corner of the couch and put her face in her hands exactly in time for her phone to buzz in her coat's inner pocket. Her father probably wouldn't be texting her, although the idea made her mouth twist in sour amusement.

Nope. Not her dad. A message from a courier friend, saying they'd scored a week's worth of Ethiopian food from the back door of the local restaurant, and that if Cat got there fast enough half of it was hers.

She didn'tstep; that was too fast, too obvious, and—until a few hours ago—too dangerous. She'd spent years being incredibly cautious about traveling through the Waste, for fear of drawing her father's attention. Well, that wasn't a problem now, so there was no point in using her powers so sparingly.

Except in cases where arriving too soon would raise suspicion, which, in most cases, was all the time. There were friends who did know she wasn’t entirely human, but the texter—Diana—wasn't one of them. Still, it only took a few minutes on the bike and a couple of traffic scares to skid down the alley of plenty, where a petite, pale-skinned blonde hunched over cartons and bags of food like a gargoyle protecting its lair.

Cat groaned as she approached. "That smells so good. Thanks for thinking of me."

"I owed you after that delivery last month. You coulda taken the bonus and you didn't." Diana had great hair, even when it had been mashed under a helmet all day, makeup that didn't run no matter how much she sweated, and fake fingernails that changed to match the color of her clothes. Cat could not imagine putting in the time and effort to maintain her look, but it was agreatlook.

"Not your fault you got sideswiped. I'd be a real dick if I'd taken it."

"See." Diana pointed at her, then got busy packing food into Cat's panniers. "This is why I like it when women come on the crew. Dudes, you can't trust dudes, man. But ladies generally got my back."

Cat pulled one of the cartons open and nabbed a bite of injera with spinach gomen, then rolled her eyes and made appreciative sounds as she ate it. "We're more than even. This is amazing."

"Great." Diana smiled and packed up her own panniers with boxes of food. "Tell Kallie hi next time you see her."

"Oh, I get it. This was an elaborate ruse to get me to pass along greetings to somebody you could totally ask out yourself."

"Yes. You caught me." The blonde cycled off and, once she was gone, Catsteppedback to her apartment, from whence she texted Kallie and Rick about the piles of Ethiopian food waiting for them.

Rick's on a job,Kallie texted a minute later.Don't eat it all before I get there.

I will absolutely eat it all if you don't get here fast enough.

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