Out in the garage, something metal clattered again. A muttered curse followed.
When Alto told me he was bringing family in, I’d pictured relief. An extra set of hands. Fewer late nights. Maybe him actually taking Tera, his sweet-as-pie mate, out somewhere that didn’t smell of gasoline and burned rubber.
Instead, Yendor tripped over air and stripped bolts beyond saving. We had to keep him in the office at first, but he said he really wanted to work on cars and needed hands-on experience.
“Write it off,” I said, throwing my chin at the can on the desk, crossing my arms. “That’s what you get for letting him order last time.”
Alto threw his hands up. “I was trying to give him responsibility!” His voice bounced off the office walls as desperation creeped in. “I thought he’d ask you. He knows you’re one of my best mechanics, even if you are?—”
The word hung there unsaid, and his eyes lowered.
He didn’t finish it.
He didn’t need to.
Human.
His unspoken words echoed in my mind, reminding me, once again, that no side really wanted me. No one wanted the six-year-old human girl who was found in a dark alley of the supe district, clutching her cold, dead mother's hand.
I didn’t remember who found me, as all of those memories of that day and before were gone, but I remembered the bright white lights blinding me and cold plastic chairs. The frowning faces of those that passed by me as I sat in the lobby waiting for child services.
The hum of a vending machine in a human police station. My feet dangling because I was too small for them to touch the floor.
I remembered the newspaper headlines with my face blown up too large. Cameras flashing. Politicians shaking hands and speaking about how I was proof that supes were too dangerous to interact with. They tried to use me, parading me around to serve their campaign vendettas.
After the election, my story no longer needed for votes, I was deemed no longer useful and tossed aside. At first, it was foster care, then an orphanage, and when no one wanted me, I knew why. I could see it in their eyes.
Every adult I met gave me the same look, suspicion, accusation, and distrust swirling in their gaze. I could hear their hushed questions when they thought I wasn't paying attention. Why wasn’t she killed that night? How did a little “human” girl remain completely unharmed through the night in the supe district alone? What did her dead mother do?
Once I hit fourteen, I couldn't take it anymore. I ran away and ended up right where I started—the streets. That was until I crossed into the wrong neighborhood.
Alto found me weeks later, soaked through and shivering in the threshold of his back door, rain pooling around my boots as I used the scrap of cover to hide from the elements. He didn’t askquestions. Just hauled me inside, wrapped a towel around my shoulders, and set a bowl of soup in my hands.
Later, he put a wrench in them.
Back in the present, Alto’s shoulders slumped.
“Sorry, kid. I hate putting you in a box like that.” He stared down at the oil canister as if it were responsible for the entire structure of the world.
Outside the office, an engine turned over roughly before dying again. A tired curse word came from the back garage.Fucking Yendor.I knew I was going to have to fix whatever he’d just touched.Add it to the list.
I gently bumped Alto’s shoulder with mine, giving him a wobbly smile.
“Are you kidding me?” I said, knowing my lips were stretched a little too wide. “Thats how the world works… but at least I got you, huh? In the background and behind doors works just fine.”
In the supe district, humans who didn't know their place or lacked a strong protector didn't last long.
Vampires needed our blood, and the Fae measured our vitality for food. Demons collected souls to help keep Hellfire alive. Werewolves connected back to their animals when they enjoyed the hunt of weaker prey. The most human-like supes were the mages, but when you could control fire, air, earth, water and spirit, you would always be more like them than us.
“I’m good back there,” I added, jerking my thumb toward the garage. “You deal with the clients. I’ll deal with the engines.”
Out front, Alto talked to the supes who handed him stacks of cash to tune their cars. They left satisfied, never knowing about the human grease monkey behind the closed bay doors.
Alto studied me for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. All the tension in the office thinned.
Just as we took a breath, a loud clank came from the garage, followed by Yendor’s panicked, “I’m fine!”
Alto groaned, shaking his head as it hung in front of him. Rolling my shoulders, I headed for the door, ready to fix whatever Yendor had fucked up.
