"What is this place?" Layla asked, looking around wide-eyed. Rather, I imagined that she was wide-eyed. Couldn't exactly see her face with her on my back.

"It's a learning center," I answered, watching my surroundings as I jogged. "It's where humans go to figure things out."

"What things?"

"Themselves." I paused to glance at a pair of kids that stared at us. I narrowed my eyes enough to make them rethink where their eyes were and they wisely decided it was none of their business.

"Perhaps I should be walking," Layla muttered.

"I'd rather carry you." I'd be faster if we needed to flee.

"But everyone keeps staring. We're standing out. Aren't we…Isn't that something we're supposed to avoid?"

I hesitated. It was true. And what I was constantly telling her. The less you stood out the less likely anyone could point you out in a crowd or recognize your photo. A pair walking close was one thing. Me constantly carrying Layla apparently stood out here more than on a busy city street.

Damn college kids.

"It is," I said, loosening my grip. "You're right."

She slid down and picked up the pace to keep up with my stride.

"So…the people do not have any other places to figure themselves out?"

"They do, but most of them seem to think this is the best place for it." I paused and glared at her. "Do you remember the Libraries back home?"

Layla paused then shook her head.

Too little, then.

"Well they would have been like those," I said, continuing on. "On paper, this hive of steel and brick is supposed to be a place of study and learning."

"On paper?"

"Sure. Just like on paper you and I are human."

"Oh."

The description didn't seem to dampen her mood any, Layla looking around and tracking students as they went from one place to another. I could practically feel her sudden longing for the same kind of companionship and I didn't blame her. I guarded the kid but I was hardly good company, and no matter if I was, I wasn't one of her people.

An issue I felt in my bones.

Being cut off from your people is…a unique kind of torture.

—

"This way," I said, cutting off my own spiral and jogging to one of the buildings. I pulled open the door and we slipped from the warmth of nature to the artificial cold, enhanced by the tile floors and vents every few feet.

"This is learning?" Layla asked. "Were the libraries back home so…cold?"

"No," I said, attuning my senses to the different surroundings. It only took a second or two, the hum of machines, the tapping of feet and the scratch of pencils going down to more of a constant hiss than a sudden roar. It was good enough, my nose starting to work in the search for something that smelled out of place. The article said the acquisition happened a few weeks ago. Some of the smells from the building would have gotten onto the vases by now, but so much of them would still smell like exhaust from the trucks and plastic from the wrap and wood from the crates.

"Is the temperature…good for finding yourself?"

"Humans seem to think so." I set off, walking and turning my head occasionally as if I was reading the names on doors or observing the displays in the hallway. Occasionally someone might ask if they can help, but in places like this the best way to operate was to look as if you had an idea of where you were going and were merely looking for the right door. Take too long or idle to much and you drew attention. Act too sure of yourself and someone might confuse you as an authority.

"Are…are we here to find ourselves?"

I glanced back at Layla. The sleeveless shirt she had was excellent for fighting or running, and enough to help hide her wings. It helped that they could fold and tuck on their own, of course. However, it was not as good for walking down chilled hallways. The gloves she had were perfect for enhancing her grip on things but not exactly meant for temperature adjustment. The best she had was the cap sitting on her head that pressed her hair down and helped to hide the edge of her pointed ears. One that would have helped hide any nub antlers, if she had any.

I sighed and dug into the duffel bag. "No," I answered, pulling out a white jacket. It was certainly too big for her. But then, it wasn't originally hers. I hesitated and she gave a small nod, reaching for it. "I think we're both pretty well lost."

Layla heaved a small sigh as she held the jacket, staring at it. For a brief moment I wondered if Layla was able to smell the scant traces of her father intertwined in the fabric. Or if what she could smell was mere memory. Even for me, the scent was faint. Almost completely faded, just lingering on a thread or two at this point. It smelled like…woods. Trees. Dew-grass.

And blood.

Layla slipped it on and pulled at the strings we'd managed to attach to it so the sleeves wouldn't dangle too far past her fingertips. The fabric protested but relented, allowing Lalya to make the adjustments and tie the jacket around her as best she could. It was too big, and made her look far too small, but at least it kept her warm…and maybe the shrinkage would work to her advantage here. We pressed on together, my nose guiding us through the increasing crowd as a handful of classes let out. I reached for Layla's hand and kept a grip around it as I found the correct flow and swam along the bodies until I reached my destination.

The vases were already on display near another set of doors on the opposite side of the building from our entrance. The doors they were stationed in front of seemed to lead to some courtyard with sculpted nature and treated cement. I resisted the urge to growl and instead opted to roll my eyes, scanning the room with all my senses.

A single security camera in the corner, locks on the doors, and the sound of a battery alarm that had been placed near the vases. Not even a glass case or invisible wire around them. Evidently the college secured the funds to acquire them but not the security to defend them.

Either way. It made the job of a skilled thief that much easier, which would make my catching him all the faster.

**

I glanced behind me again, narrowing my eyes at Layla. She let out a slow breath and mouthed 'sorry' at me, my ears picking up a little sighing whimper even as she did her best to be quiet. Hiding and skulking wasn't exactly her strongest skill. But keeping out of danger was even less of a skill for her, and so if I wanted to both keep an eye on her and get my hands on the thieving imp, I had to bring her along.

If all the noise she made didn't tip him off and make him scamper off back into the shadows.

We'd managed to find a good hiding spot, clocked the security guard's rounds, and settled down to wait. Mostly. Layla was in charge of the duffel bag this time, as I needed to be able to move freely in order to catch my target. And she needed to eat when she was hungry and not bother me about it.

Might have been my own fault for bringing her along, but what else could you do. Two birds, as the saying goes.

I heard a noise far off and turned, listening. This one was different than just the cement and tar of the street settling in the night. Different than the cars speeding away to various destinations. Different than the insects buzzing endlessly through the air.

It was the sound of shoes hitting the ground. Ones that hadn't been there a moment ago.

I took a quick sniff, letting my brain sort out the various scents and looking for magic.

And bingo.

Magic I recognized and knew well. Hints of salt and brine edging the smell of old bamboo and dirt and wild natural plant life.

He trotted up close but didn't come into the building, instead trotting around one side and then the other. Likely looking for an opening he could exploit. Some place to wriggle through. The sound of his coat sliding in it's awkward manner, slightly stilted thanks to the strands of Kevlar he'd woven into it. The sound of more fabric crunching as he grabbed the brim of his top-hat and slid it off his head. The rush of air as he spun it.

…he was nervous.

He hadn't somehow sensed me lurking about, had he?

The hesitation followed by his steps turning more clipped told me of a decision he'd made. He moved towards the building again, and I relaxed a little. It would be so much easier to nab him here inside the building than to enact a chase scene throughout the college. The imp wasn't faster than me on his own, but he had plenty of tricks up his sleeve that would either delay me or allow him to cheat in a chase. And I really, really didn't want to kill him if I could help it.

**

He managed to weasel his way inside, the steps barely missing a beat as he danced his way around the entrance security systems and trotted almost directly up to the glass displays. He paused there, and observed his target for a moment, which allowed me to observe my target.

Short-ish. Scrappy. Black hair hanging in a mop under the brim of his top-hat. This one was banded in read with two sort tails at the back. Probably for flair. He'd love how they moved when he swung his hat around. Probably the reason for his little hat-twirl earlier.

Ringmaster-like coat was the same as always, this one pulled tight around his middle with what looked like some sort of sash. Or wide belt of some kind. The ends still flapped around like they had a mind of their own, black slacks still sliding through the space as he walked, shoes still tapping lightly against the ground, almost as if he were more of a ghost than anything else.

The sounds themselves were more muted than they should have been. Probably had something on him to dampen the noises. I could still hear them. A human would not.

And the slight shimmer to his appearance spoke of something that muted his visuals as well. Not invisible. But just enough to make a human eye slip past him.

There was a slight fading effect, and then suddenly he popped into full focus. Enough to make Layla squeak and cover her mouth, sliding back into the corner and looking at me apologetically before looking back. I grunted and kept my eyes on him as he stopped, hands outstretched towards the glass. He paused and looked around, more alert than he should have been.

"I don't suppose," he said, tone casual but alert, "that we could skip the skulking and you could just come out and have a civilized conversation?"

Damn. He heard her.

I let out a sigh and glanced to the side. Debated.

And then stood and took a few steps out so he could see me. And more specifically, so he could see the hand resting on the hilt of my knife.

"Not-so-civilized then," he sighed, giving me a flat look.

"I will if you will," I said, nodding to the hand in his pocket.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be off harassing your babysitter?"

"But you're so much fun," I answered, giving him a wolfish grin. "Plus you were closer. But if you mention my 'babysitter' one more time I'm going to let him know I'm looking for something the hard way."

He groaned. "Don't make me fight you for survival. I just want these things," he said, motioning to the vases. "Can't you let me have nice things?"

"You have nice things."

"These nice things."

"Look, I'm not here to stop you." I gestured to the display cases. "I'm simply using them as leverage. I want a deal."

He paused and stared at me. "…a deal."

"Yes."

"With you."

"Yes."

"You already have a deal."

"More accurate, then. I need you to make good on a deal." I was on him in an instant, and he had just enough time to take a single step back before I was in his face. But I kept my blade sheathed, and my hands to myself. Grabbing him would only make him belligerent, and stabbing him would most certainly cause a fight and make me lose any chance of speaking until next time. "I have no interest in your trinkets. I will only smash them if you do not do what you promised."

His eyes wandered over me for a moment, as if he were trying to read what this was about instead of speaking to it. "…what did I promise?" He finally asked.

"The safety of the one I guard."

His eyes flicked to the vases before they came back to me. "Alright, fine. You got my attention. Let me steal these and then we'll talk?"

I growled low in my throat. "I will wait here."

He gave me a flat look, but I continued growling and eventually he sighed and hung his head before turning back to the display cases. "Fine. But don't stab me in the back. That would be irritating."

I smirked. "Don't tempt me."