Milo’s chief past-time after school was following people home.

  …In a way.

  “A Catcher Patrol.” Neymar repeated, confused. “What good does having a bunch of kids follow some random people around do?”

  Milo slung an arm on Neymar’s shoulder– a habit he was beginning to pick up despite Neymar’s distaste for it.

  “There’s safety in numbers, my friend. As much as the Catchers could do anything here, especially when most of them are damn mages too— you know those kind of mages that like to wave their powers around just for the hell of it— they are still conscious about consequences. After all, it would be easier to go after the person who kidnapped your child if you knew their face. If nobody saw it happen, there’s plausible deniability. Who’s to say that child didn’t run away from home on their own?” Milo motioned a pair of little legs running off with his fingers.

  “So you wander the streets just to be a witness?”

  “We pride ourselves on holding people accountable.” Milo nodded. “On both ends.”

  At Neymar’s furrowed brow, Milo smiled.

  “Haven’t you had to deal with someone who was just always in your way and thought to yourself ‘what I would give to send you as far away from me as possible’?”

  Neymar recalled his first days with Abel, but remained silent.

  “Well, it’s easy to do that here. If you talk to the right ‘Peacekeepers’ the right way, that can be arranged without anybody else knowing about it.” Milo frowned. “But that isn’t quite fair, is it? So it’s up to us to give them their due process.”

  “How do you find out something that nobody else knows about?” Neymar asked.

  “We have our sources.” Milo took a scan of their surroundings and waved to an incoming figure jogging up the street.

  Neymar’s hands twitched into fists.

  The boy he was waving over was the scrawny teenager that jumped him.

  “You.” Neymar couldn’t help but seethe. The boy was now decked out in an arm cast and seemed to limp slightly. He was startled by the tone, but upon taking in Neymar’s form, then his face, he realized—

  “A-Actually I gotta go—“ The boy turned on his heel. Milo simultaneously reached out to hold him back while interposing between him and Neymar.

  ”It’s okay, Kochi. He’s with us.” Milo reassured him. ”You have news?”

  Kochi nervously looked from Milo to Neymar.

  “W…Well… Word from— from our sources say that there’s a snitch in the South District, Apartment block D. Goes by the name Arwen.”

  Milo’s lips twitched.

  “A snitch?” He attempted to sound light, but the rage was hard to quell.

  Kochi quietly nodded.

  “We’ll lead the south patrol. Be ready for extraction by the end of the hour.”

  “Extraction?” Neymar inquired as Kochi scurried off.

  “They always try to hide.” Milo frowned.

  But something wasn’t adding up.

  “If you’re so coordinated with your source, how did you miss the attack on my cousin and me?”

  Milo flushed, uncomfortable.

  “She must’ve had her reasons for keeping that close to the vest.” Milo reasoned, quick to shrug it off. “She always does.”

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  Neymar raised an eyebrow at this.

  “And what was your source’s name again?” Neymar attempted to prod. Milo let out a laugh.

  “Good one!” He patted Neymar’s shoulder knowingly and continued south. “If you do well enough out here, you’ll get to meet her and ask her all the questions you want yourself.”

  The duo soon turned into a cuatro, then a cinque, then a mob as more of Milo’s lackeys joined the patrol. They filled the streets with a soft chatter as they talked about their day, ranked the best types of bread, then began making bets on who could walk on their hands the longest.

  Neymar remained stoically separate throughout, but was eventually roped into the competition when Milo challenged him on his strength.

  So he hopped on both hands, upside down and all, pushing further southward alongside someone he didn’t even know.

  It felt oddly comforting, as they passed Peacekeepers grimacing at them like they were some aberrant parade.

  But the din quickly faded from Neymar’s focus when he spotted a flash of movement from his inverted position.

  A shadow rippled against the walls and turned into a narrow street. Neymar could make out faint shifts in the dust and dirt on the ground like footsteps. Further up the street, a lone man strolled, about to turn the corner.

  Neymar pushed himself upright and darted after. As he approached the entrance of the street, he could feel the latent heat of spirit fire, of magic.

  Someone was invisible.

  The crowd split off to follow Neymar as he rushed up the narrow street and spun around the corner to find the solitary man keeled over.

  One hand was propped up against the wall of a warehouse building while the other grasped his own neck. He was wheezing, shuddering with terror in his eyes.

  His gaze lifted and he shakily reached out to Neymar, the first to arrive, then pulled him into a tight embrace.

  “Thank you.” He breathed, his wheezes turning to sobs. “Thank you so much.”

  Neymar was stunned. He mutely returned the embrace. Tears threatened to prick at his eyes.

  He barely stopped an abduction from happening right in front of him.

  The Catchers were real.

  All at once, he realized just how terrifying the District really was.

  And then he realized his grave mistake.

  He had left Abel to walk it alone.

  ——-

  Abel was thankful Milo’s lackeys were loud and obnoxious.

  It wasn’t a great feat to find them parading down the street, though Abel was immediately annoyed when he couldn’t find Neymar nor Milo himself among them.

  He kept to the shadows, hiding in the alcoves as he trailed them, hoping they would find their way back to their leader soon.

  But before he could make much progress, he noticed something amiss.

  With every crevice he tucked his way into, he could see a flutter of motion in the corner of his eye. Like a second shadow that paralleled him.

  He vaulted up to a fire escape and peered down, honing in on the shadows. A hooded figure emerged from an alley and ducked into an alcove along the street, trailing behind the teenagers just as he was trying to. The cut of their clothing was of school uniform clothes from the Metalworks Academy, not the Peacekeeper uniform.

  The figure seemed to sense him, for it turned its head towards him in that split moment. Abel quickly ducked and dropped down the ladder, pressing himself against the alleyway walls for cover.

  A moment passed.

  Then two.

  Abel’s heart pounded in his chest, the very thought of fighting off another gang attack already exhausting him.

  The coast should be clear in the opposite direction, right? Maybe he could circle around—

  He attempted to slink up the alley, to exit the scene entirely, only to stumble into a body.

  The hooded figure was taller and more slender up close.

  Abel backed off, hands flying into a defensive stance. He was about to start swinging for their face when he noticed a flash of faded blonde hair wisp out from beneath the hood.

  “Quinn Volta?” Abel breathed.

  He lowered his hands and stepped back further, creating distance between them. “Why are you following—“

  “So you were watching the patrols.” Quinn stood before him in her cropped jacket and loose pants. Her hood was big enough to obscure most of her features in shadow.

  She coolly stuffed her hands in her pockets, appraising him. “Who are you and what the hell are you up to?”

  He didn’t believe she didn’t know exactly who he was. His name was on her list after all.

  No, she was trying to catch him in a lie.

  Abel attempted a light smile.

  “I’m Abel, and I’m just trying to find my cousin.” He raised his hands to his sides in a casual surrender. “Your good friend Milo seems to have involved him in something dangerous that probably won’t sit well with his mom.”

  All quite true, given Reyna Fenharrow’s wariness about the District.

  “Hah! My good friend Milo.” Quinn scoffed, trying to hide her amusement. “You’re cheeky. But why should I believe you?”

  “Because our goals are aligned.” Abel tilted his head. “You’re tracking Milo too, aren’t you?”

  Quinn’s gaze sharpened with suspicion. She remained silent.

  “You have every reason to. He’s constantly harassing you, and I don’t want my cousin to face the same fate.” Especially if Milo finds out they’re both lying about their heritage. “Milo deserves to be taken down a peg. So why don’t we go after him together?”

  Abel extended his hand to her.

  “That way you can see exactly what I’m ‘up to’.”

  Quinn’s eyes flicked from his expression to his hand and back.

  “You’re new to this neighborhood, right?” She mused, calculating. That can’t be good.

  ”Landed just this month.” Abel confidently affirmed despite the growing dread in his stomach.

  “Can you run?”

  ”Fairly well?” Abel opted to sound unsure. Better to seem like he wasn’t a threat.

  “Can you fight? Can you take a hit?”

  ”Well enough.” Much better than he could run, but she didn’t need to know that.

  It was enough for her.

  Quinn took his hand, deliberately pulling him towards her. He stumbled forward and they locked eyes.

  “You stay in my sight. You follow my lead. You don’t get Caught.” She then smiled. “Got it?”

  “Got it.” Abel nodded quickly, a bit dazzled by her forcefulness.

  “Stick to the shadows.” She instructed. “Oh, and you were wrong about one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We’re not going after Milo. We’re going after his prey.”