No question about it. Leaning against a wall, in a stinking al ey . . . somewhere, pressed a hand to her roiling stomach and locked her knees so she didn’t col apse at 17 Night Shadow Alex’s feet like a soufflé. Thank God it was dark so he couldn’t see her weakness. Saliva filled her mouth and she had to swallow convulsively to keep her dignity. “Where are we?” she demanded, putting strength in her voice and knees with considerable effort. They had materialized between two blank-faced concrete buildings. The darkness stank. She held her breath for a few moments. Not breathing in the smel of old urine, rancid food, and God only knew what else, helped. A little. But it didn’t do much for the disturbing feeling that she was going to fall over at any moment. The slight breeze felt cool against her cheeks, carrying with it the stench of . . . whatever back alleys were fil ed with. Refuse and excrement cloaked in near blackness. This is what you wanted, remember?
