Plague Saint [REMOVING FOR PUBLICATION JUNE 1]

Chapter Nineteen: The Deal

Winter downed two more cups of coffee before changing into the Plague Saint uniform and returning to the hospital. She didn't bother stopping by her office, instead going straight to River's room. To her relief, he was awake and talking to a nurse.

"Plague Saint!" the nurse exclaimed. "I've never seen anything like it, he's doing so much better."

"See, doc?" River grinned. "I knew I'd pull through."

"I gave him new medicine this morning," Winter said.

The nurse frowned. "New medicine? Should we be giving that to other patients?"

"Yes, but unfortunately we're in short supply. I'm off to find the ingredients I need."

"Right now? Nobody's seen you all day, we were starting to get concerned. Three new red plague patients came in this morning, and—"

"I'm sorry, you'll all have to handle yourselves for a few hours."

Winter left the hospital and headed for City Hall. If the mayor wasn't there, there had to at least be someone who could tell her where he was.

She'd only walked the streets in daylight on a few occasions to deliver bills to next of kin. Apparently, Marcus had done it before, and when Winter did it, people tended to steer clear of her, although they definitely looked her way. Today, for some reason, they dared to move closer and whisper to each other.

The staff. Winter usually carried the staff, but right now it was shoved in the bottom of her bag. Did Marcus actually threaten people with it? She slipped into an alley to dig it out. She wouldn't use it, but if it kept people away, she'd carry it.

That made the difference. Winter didn't have the time to let her hatred for Marcus boil over even more, so she pushed the thought down and continued her journey to City Hall.

The shining white building overlooked a square that was surrounded by shops and other businesses. At the center of the square was a fountain that sat empty. It was only usable in the summer, and Winter couldn't think of it as anything but a waste.

She stormed into City Hall and walked up to the front desk. Alarm flashed across the face of the boy sitting behind the desk. "Plague Saint? I—"

"Is the mayor here?" Winter asked.

"He's in a meeting, but—"

"Any idea how long he's going to be?"

"No idea, but he said he was going to St. Andrew's after, so he'll be coming through here. I can tell him you asked to see him—"

"I can wait." Winter looked around the lobby until her gaze rested on a bench.

The boy swallowed. "Uh, sure. Go ahead."

Winter waited on the bench for ten minutes, according to the clock hanging over the lobby. She passed time by decoding more sentences here and there in the journal, but she didn't find anything terribly shocking or interesting.

As she was translating a line scribbled off to the side, apparently related to the sketches of petri dishes on the page ("further evidence for gene editing, but lack of close relation to other species indicates possibility of creation from—"), a voice reached her from the nearby stairwell. No, two voices. Mayor Atherton, and—

"According to my calculations, two bottles will be enough for the assembly meeting," Marcus said.

Winter shoved his notebook into her bag and stood up. As soon as the two men emerged from the stairwell, their conversation came to a halt.

"Mayor Atherton," Winter said. "I needed to speak to you."

Shit. She couldn't ask for ingredients in front of Marcus without him realizing she'd found his boat, and his plague cure. Did she care if he knew? Phoebe was going to tell him tonight, anyway. But Marcus wasn't going to let her make the cure to hand out freely.