Her legs had carried her here, to New York. The pull had led her like a rope tied around her ribs.

Then the itch started.

Small at first—an irritation beneath her skin. Then hotter. Greener, like a thing growing, winding upward through her spine.

A man in a suit stepped out of a sedan. He didn't look at her. He didn't need to. The heat in her palms didn't wait for permission.

Above, across the street, a shadow passed over a rooftop.