Chapter 10 · Home in Chains

The coat smelled like old smoke and someone else's sweat. Vera threw it at Kai's chest and he caught it on reflex, the fabric heavy in his hands, lined with something that felt like chain links sewn into the lining. She was already pulling another piece from the trunk at the foot of the bed, this one a high-collared shirt the color of dried blood.

"Put it on," she said. Not asked. Said.

Kai looked down at the coat. The stitching was tight, the cut formal, nothing like the canvas jacket he'd been wearing when he fell through the subway gate. This thing had buttons made of carved bone and a clan sigil burned into the left shoulder. Red Heron. He could see the bird's wings spread wide, talons open.

"You're serious."

Vera didn't look at him. She was sorting through a pile of jewelry now, old rings and a bracelet that clicked when she moved it. "You wanted to stay alive. This is what that looks like."

He pulled off his shirt. The mark under his ribs flared hot for a second, then settled. Vera's eyes flicked to it and away, fast, like she'd touched a stove by accident.