I stepped into a pair of worn, extra-comfy jeans. “Because it was special to someone else.”

“Who?”

Instead of answering, I fed my belt through the new jeans and buckled it, then stuffed my feet back into my shoes. Brushing past her, I returned to the bedroom and paused beside the bed. The scent of laundry detergent filled my nose, making my chest ache. Clean laundry was the smell of home.

Whether I escaped MPD custody or not, it’d be a long time before I got to enjoy the scent, or the feeling, of a home again.

“What else do you want to take?” Lienna asked, following me out of the closet.

“Nothing. That’s it.”

Her frown returned, more doubtful than suspicious this time.

I glanced at her, then pitched forward onto the bed. My face hit the thick comforter and I groaned.

“What are you doing?”

I rolled the rest of the way onto the mattress and flopped onto my back, one arm across my eyes. “Do you know what those jail cell cots are like? This is the last bed I’ll get to lie on for … years. Just give me a minute to memorize the feeling.”

Silence answered me. After a moment, the mattress dipped. I peeked under my arm to find Lienna sitting on the corner of the bed, gazing around with a wrinkle between her brows.

“This just isn’t the sort of place I imagined you’d live in,” she muttered.

“Me neither. This is ten times fancier than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.” I covered my eyes again. “Rigel recommended it. I think his buddy owns the place. I got a good deal, and KCQ paid well.”

“Ah, yes. The spoils of fraud and theft.”

“’Suppose so.”

Her voice went even icier. “Do you even care that you were cheating people?”

I thought of the books in her arms, then nestled back into the comforter and breathed in the scent of home. “Being a mythic crook is better than being a human freak.”

“You aren’t a human.”

“Didn’t know I was a mythic, remember? KCQ found me. They taught me about magic.”

The mattress creaked as she shifted. “I understand that, but once you realized they were criminals, you … you should’ve left the guild.”

I cracked my eyes open, but all I could see was my arm, resting on my forehead. This weird sharing mood of mine was waning, but I’d blabbed enough mush that I might as well finish with the truth.

“I’ve never fit in anywhere. People don’t want me around. I make them uncomfortable … scare them. Everywhere I ever went, everyone wanted to get rid of me—until Rigel invited me to his guild. There, I wasn’t just welcome … I was useful. I was part of the team.” I let out a short, harsh breath. “So to answer your question, no, I didn’t care what the guild was really doing. Not enough to leave.”

The bed bounced again. A soft footstep, then a warm hand tugged on my wrist, lifting my arm. Lienna leaned over me, peering into my eyes.

“Kit … you …” She struggled for words, lips pursing with thought.

I watched her soft lips, surprised by how entrancing they were.

Her gaze searched my face, and that faint blush reappeared. She abruptly straightened. “You broke the law. But … but if you help catch Quentin, I’ll do whatever I can to minimize the charges against you.”

“What can you do?”

“I’m not sure.” Her eyes blazed. “But I’ll figure it out.”

An odd tightness constricted my throat—and I realized I believed her. I believed she would help me.

Wow, I was really going mushy. It had to be the bed. It was hard to be jaded while lying on a slice of cumulus heaven. Before I lost my grip on reality, I sat up. Lienna moved aside as I slid off the mattress.

“I guess we can go now.” My focus settled on the books tucked under her arm. “But those … I need to stash them somewhere safe.”

If they went back to the precinct with me, I’d never see them again. Damn it. Why hadn’t I thought of that earlier?

Lienna hefted the small pile. “I … I can hold on to them for you. For the time being.”

My eyes narrowed. “You’re taking my belongings hostage?”

“No, I’m offering to care for them until you—until you’re ready to take them back.”

“They’re mementos, not grimoires. You won’t find anything in them that you can use to—”

“I’m trying to be nice!” she cut in. “You saved my life and I want to do something nice for you!”

Doubt flitted through me, but she was giving me that fierce stare, and instead of accusatory and condemning—like most of her glares—it was … I didn’t know, but it poked at the part of me that wanted to believe her.

“Okay,” I conceded. Not like I had any better options anyway. “Thank you.”

The stern downward tilt to her mouth softened into a smile. A real one. An actual nice smile.

Musing over her offer to care for my books, I scooped them out of her arms and left the bedroom. With a longing glance across the living room, I headed for the door.

“Kit.” She lingered beside my seventy-inch flat-screen television—one of the few items I’d purchased for the apartment. “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you want to save?”

I shook my head. “None of this is mine. The apartment came furnished.”

Frowning, she crouched beside the TV stand. “What about these?”

I drifted back to her side and peered at the shelves—lined with the spines of DVD and Blu-ray cases. I sank down, sitting on my heels.

“I collected them after starting with KCQ. I always wanted a movie collection, but I could never afford …” I coughed. “But yeah, none of those are rare or anything. I can find them all again if—if I get the chance,” I finished lamely.

Not likely, considering I was doomed to either a life on the run or a life behind bars.

Lienna ran her finger across a large assortment of goofy comedies, including the entire Monty Python collection, before landing on my copy of Casablanca.

“Ooh,” I murmured. “Classic.”

She pulled it off the shelf. “I’ve never seen it.”

“Seriously? Everyone should see Casablanca.”

“Hmm.” She examined the illustration of Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart dramatically pressed together on the cover. “It looks kind of …”

“Don’t you dare say boring. This is the most beautiful movie ever made.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow.

“It is!” As her eyebrow rose higher, I stepped back my enthusiasm, oddly embarrassed. “It’s about being part of something bigger than yourself. I think there’s beauty in that.”

Her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Maybe …” She seemed to hang on the word. “Maybe we should watch it.”

Snorting, I pushed back to my feet. “Sure. You can download it on your phone, then stand outside my cell and I’ll watch it over your shoulder.”

She stayed crouched, still holding the movie. “I mean right now.”

I froze halfway through a step toward the door and peered down at the top of her head. “Why? You want to make sure it’s actually a movie and not a disc storing all my criminal secrets?”