The new house was a townhouse. A solid, brick building, almost as neatly kept as those around it.

A red haired girl appeared in the doorway as Wilson hustled me out of the car. Reluctantly, and amazed Wilson hadn’t noticed the weapons, I made my way inside. I resolved not to get attached to my new housemates.

I had, after all, no intention of staying here any longer than I had to. As soon as Wilson stopped checking on me, I’d be gone. And if I had no feelings for them, then Surtur’s people might leave them alone.

If I hadn’t successfully scared them off, but I was sure I hadn’t actually managed it. It had been a nice try, but once they thought about it…

…if they weren’t acting under his orders they might be in trouble. If they were, to isolate me, to coerce me. He needed me willing, but maybe…

No. I was sure there were politics involved here. And sure he did need me to come to him more or less of my own free will. Would I to save Kanesha?

Maybe.

It wouldn’t or at least might not count. The girl’s hair was the same color as my father’s. I’d got mine from my mother.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Jane.”

“I heard you got burned out.”

I nodded. “Lost pretty much everything I didn’t have at school.”

“Oh…well…”

“I have a bit of money. All I need is directions to the nearest Target or something.” I was sure there was a Target or a Walmart around here somewhere.

She nodded. “I’m Phoebe.” She had freckles across her nose. “Come on. You get the room in the back.”

The smallest, of course. It was cramped, but there was enough space to set stuff down. When I was sure Phoebe wasn’t looking, the sword and the bag containing the horn were slipped under the bed. My book bag I put on it. It was going to be a commute to school when it reopened – they wouldn’t move me mid term, of course.

If I went to school. I couldn’t go back to normal, not when I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t be attacked again.

Don’t get attached, I told myself, as I headed downstairs to the kitchen and glanced in the fridge for unlabeled edibles. I’d had a decent breakfast at Lizbet’s, but I hadn’t had lunch and it was getting close to that time.

“You can have some of my salad,” Phoebe said, generously.

I couldn’t really turn it down. “I’ll pay you back,” I said as I rummaged for salad and dressing. Not the lunch I would have first chosen, but it would do.

Don’t get attached.