Peri’s stomach caved in and became a knot. Oh God. She’d lost three entire years. Someone had tried to kill her and apparently succeeded. That’d be the only reason she’d lost so much. Turning away, she held her breath. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you.” Three years? How could I lose three years?

“Oh …,” the man said, and she jerked, heart pounding when he touched her again. She was angry, as if she’d done something unconscionably stupid. “I’m Allen. Ah, Allen Swift,” he said, his hand falling away with a guilty slowness.

Taking a deep breath, Peri met Allen’s eyes. She didn’t know this man, but Frank and Sandy did, and she was tired of looking stupid. Besides, she’d lost time before. This man would help her find her way. “Can we go home?” she said, and Allen looked so relieved that she couldn’t help but try to smile back.

Her hand in his felt okay as he helped her off the stool. She might not remember him, but he clearly knew her. “You have this?” he asked Frank.

“Yes. You?” the big man answered. Sandy was still pale as she stood behind him, glancing at her feet again to make Peri wonder if she was avoiding broken glass. Her continued frightened silence behind the bar was odd.

Allen took Peri’s coat from the bar. “We’ll figure it out. Peri, you’ve got the keys, right?” he asked as he helped her into it.

Peri touched her coat pocket to find a fob. “Looks like it,” she said, doubting it belonged to the little Beemer she remembered. Her taste in clothes had improved in the last three years, and the coat was everything she liked. Allen pulled a gray scarf from a table and got her moving, and she paused, more curious than shocked at the blood on the door. With a small grunt, Frank hustled over and unlocked it, accidentally kicking the floor sweeper into the wall, where it gave a pained whine and died.

“After you,” Allen said as he wound his scarf about his neck. The cool night air shocked through her as the door opened, and Peri took one last look at Sandy standing stiffly behind the bar. There was a strand of black hair caught in Peri’s fingers, and she pulled it free to let it drift to the cold pavement. Frank was watching from the open door, and Peri’s unease grew.

“Ah, Allen?” Frank said. “I suggest you get Peri checked out before you go home. I’ll let Bill know where you are.”

“I’m fine,” Peri protested, but Allen seemed to start, visibly collecting his thoughts.

“Mmmm. He’s right,” he said, thin fingers touching the side of his long nose as he scanned the nearly empty lot. “You hit your head. It won’t take long.”

“It will take all night,” she complained. “I don’t need to go in.” But he was ushering her forward, his hand familiarly on the small of her back. It didn’t feel wrong there, but she didn’t like being pushed. “I haven’t changed my apartment in the last three years, have I?”

“No.”

“Is my mom still alive?” she asked, the cold night making her bruised eye throb.

“Yes. You called her yesterday. Now, will you please get in the car?”

She had talked to her mom? Clearly things had improved. Either that, or gotten much worse. “Sure. Which one is it?”

Allen took the fob right out of her hand and clicked it. Across the way, a sleek black car flashed its lights. “Maybe I should drive,” he said in sudden avarice, and her eyes widened. Holy shit, it’s a Mantis. I own a Mantis?

“This is ridiculous, I’m fine,” Peri complained. “Allen, give me my keys back,” she protested when he held them out of her reach like a playground bully.

“No, I’m driving,” he insisted, and she gave up, hands in her pockets as she stomped beside him.

“This is really bad for my asthma,” she muttered, angry and becoming depressed.

Allen started, turning to her in surprise. “Asthma? I didn’t know you had asthma.”

Peri blinked at him, confused. Why did I say that? “I don’t,” she said as she pulled her coat closer. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

Kind of like her life.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

She’d had to reinstate Allen into the car’s system before he could drive it. That hadn’t bothered her as much as Allen not knowing what she’d had her Mantis in for or why the technicians had accidentally blown him out. A Mantis, she thought in satisfaction, wondering what color palette she’d programmed into it. You couldn’t even get on the purchase list unless you’d lived in Detroit for ten years.

’Cause only those who never gave up on her should be allowed to play with her toys, Peri thought, as the bright neon of one of Detroit’s casinos came and went between the e-boards, green spaces, and community gardens lit like a fairyland for the night.

Uneasy, she glanced at Allen as they slipped into an industrial park. She felt as if she’d left something behind, like her wallet or a sweater. Or maybe a gun, she thought, stealthily feeling the edge of her boot to find her knife. Her angst was growing, but she dismissed it, knowing it was likely the shock of losing so much time. She was fine, damn it!

But the unease only grew worse as they took an easy curve and Opti spread before them, two empty lanes of dim lights and stiff regulations at two in the morning. “I don’t want to be here,” she protested, even as she dug in her purse for her ID. An odd pane of glass caught her eye, and with a shock, she realized it was her phone. Glass? I’ve got glass? Cool.