Free Winter (The Manhattan Exiles) by Sarah Remy

appearing to look up. One of the ungainly vehicles squawked, and Aine jumped.
    “Horn,” the grey-eyed boy said. “You’ll get used to it.”
    “ Or not.” Richard leaned on his cane, long face sour. “There’s a reason I live under the streets.”
    “ You’re a recluse,” Winter returned. He waited until Lolo crossed the brick threshold, then sighed. “I’m hungry.”
    “ What a surprise,” Richard returned, but he didn’t seem bothered. “Five minutes, do you think?”
    “ No. He’ll be back out in three.”
    Th e wind blew, and cold raindrops gusted against Aine’s face. She wound the smiley-face scarf around her chin, and stuck her fists into her armpits for warmth.
    “ Need to find you a coat, princess,” Winter muttered. “Here he comes. Time?”
    Richard checked the watch on its chain around his neck. “Two minutes fifty.”
    Winter smiled. Lolo crossed the street in a jog, bouncing on his toes.
    “Third floor,” he reported. “3C. No doorman, no nothing. Just an elevator and a keypad and the place is empty except for a postal and she’s nearly done.”
    “ Excellent,” Winter hummed. “You two stay here. Richard and I will go take a look.”
    “ No!”
    “ Nay!”
    Aine wasn’t sure who protested first, but together they were twice as loud.
    “I don’t babysit!” Lolo was livid. “You know that.”
    “ Normally, no. Today, yes.”
    “ I’m going in,” Aine said.
    “ Listen.” Winter turned from the building. Flakes of snow stuck to his cap and to his burnt face. “It just wouldn’t be smart, waltzing you into the dragon’s den. Normally I wouldn’t worry. Today’s different.”
    “ I’m going in,” Aine repeated. “He knows how to send me home.”
    “ Likely he’s not even here,” Richard said. “He’s probably gone to ground somewhere. Why hang around?”
    “ For Aine,” Winter snapped. “Unless you think he hasn’t noticed he’s lost her?”
    Lolo raised his voice in argument. Richard tapped the end of his cane thoughtfully on the trunk of a spindly tree.
    Aine set her foot on the tarred street, looked carefully for rushing cars, and began to walk.
    Lolo noticed first. He made a sound like a startled goose. Winte r blocked her way a heartbeat later.
    “ What are you doing?”
    “ You can’t stop me.” Aine shook his hand from her sleeve. “It’s my problem, not yours.”
    “ You are my problem.” Instead of loosening, Winter’s fingers tangled in her shirt. “And you have no idea what could be in there. How do you plan to protect yourself, leathcheann ? You’re fresh out of pipe.”
    Aine heard the car before she saw it. It rumbled toward them: a smaller, more nimble version of the underground train. The tiny hairs rose on the back of her neck, and she was frozen again, just as she had been in the tunnel, pinned by bright lights and the hiss of heated iron.
    Winter was still scolding. She couldn’t hear him, the world had shrunk to the frightened thump of her heart against her ribs. Why didn’t he move? Why didn’t he run?
    The car honked. Richard shouted. Winter looked suddenly dumbfounded, and Aine could move again.
    She pulled him out of the way just as the car began to swerve and squeal. They staggered, and stumbled, and fetched up against the side of the brick building. Richard and Lolo came tumbling after.
    “ Dammit!” Richard threw his cane at Winter. He bent at the knees, panting. “What has gotten into you? Pay attention! Have you completely lost your mind?”
    Winter took a long breath. He stared after the vanished car, then at Aine. He didn’t say a word.
    Aine’s head was spinning. She brushed snow from her eyelashes. Then she straightened her shoulders.
    “ I’m going in,” she insisted, and left the boys standing on the street.
    The inside of the building was gloomy. It took a moment for Aine’s vision to adjust. When it did she was able to piece together an impression of a small foyer. A chaise slumped against one