“Heil,” Alise greeted the girl, then spoke to her in a language that was neither English nor German—French or Italian, maybe. She gestured to Juliana and mentioned her name, and the girl slowly nodded, glancing nervously at Juliana. Her hair was a dark burgundy, almost black, and her eyes were sea-green. Her skin was olive, and she looked very exotic to Juliana. She wore a long black skirt and a white blouse edged with scraps of bright color. Her hands were gloved almost to her elbow, Juliana noticed.
“Juliana,” Alise said. “This is Mia. She will room with you and help you find your way around. She is from Sicily, but knows a little English.”
“Oh...that’s good.” Juliana smiled, feeling uneasy. “Hello, Mia.”
“Piaciri di canuscirvi. Hello, Juliana.” The girl waved and tried to smile, but her face showed that she was just as nervous as Juliana felt.
“Oh, you’re going to love each other!” Alise said. “I’ll make sure of it. I have to report to General Kranzler and Dr. Wichtmann now, so they know you and Sebastian arrived safely. We’ll talk more at dinner! Any special food requests?”
“Anything to eat would be great. I’m starving,” Juliana said.
“I’ll make sure the cooks give you plenty!” Alise winked as she left the room.
Juliana and Mia looked at each other awkwardly.
“Your bed,” Mia finally said, pointing to the empty side of the room and nodding.
“Thank you.” Juliana carried her suitcase to the bed and sat down. There was another long, awkward pause. She looked at the pictures pasted around Mia’s bed.
“You like movies?” Juliana asked.
“Yes!” Mia said, with an exuberant grin, probably just happy to have something to talk about. She pointed to one of the pictures, an advertisement for the film Red Dust with Clark Gable and Jean Harlow locked in a passionate embrace. “I lived in Rome for a time, many films. You like Clark Gable?”
“Yes, he’s very handsome,” Juliana said.
“Handsome.” Mia nodded and pointed again. “Douglas Fairbanks?”
“Yes, also handsome.”
“Charlie Chaplin?”
“Very funny!” Juliana said. “I love him.” She looked over the girl’s pictures. “You like Mae West?”
“Mae West, yes!”
They shared a smile—Mae West was bold, flirty, and fearless, which, as a woman, made her controversial and the talk of much scandal. A modern, outspoken woman who just happened to be gorgeous and glamorous.
“How long have you been here?” Juliana asked.
Mia concentrated. “Many days. One...week? Or is it month?”
“I’m not sure. Do you have a touch?” Juliana raised her hands and nodded at the gloves Mia wore. “Like me?”
Mia leaned forward, raising her eyebrows like she was about to share some good gossip. “I see your future.” Mia stripped off her gloves and stood up, striding towards Juliana, closing the door along the way. “I can show you.”
“No, wait! I’m poisonous.”
Mia hesitated in mid-step. “Poisonous?”
“Yes. I can’t help it.” Juliana took off a glove and spread her fingers. She called up the demon plague, letting her hand fester into open sores.
Mia gasped and stumbled back to her own bed, where she pulled up her knees protectively. Juliana started to regret bringing up the subject of their powers.
“I am sorry,” Juliana said. “But you should be warned. No touching me, for your own safety.”
“No touching.” Mia shook her head, staring warily at her now.
“I am sorry,” Juliana told her again. She lay back on her new bed, looking up at the pastel-pink ceiling. She’d felt the possible beginning of a friendship with the girl, but now she’d scared her away. Everyone else had something useful: Sebastian could heal, Alise could make people happy, Mia could see the future. Only Juliana had a useless curse, one that could only hurt people.
Even among the freaks, she was a freak.
Chapter Nineteen
Ward approached the grimy concrete building housing the nightclub, as well as a bail bond place and a pawn shop that had both closed until morning. The club was in the half-buried basement of the strip mall, and its entrance was at the back, not visible from the road. Broken bottles littered the gravel parking lot, which was crowded with cars even though it was the day after Christmas.
Two doors led into the basement. One of them had been surrounded by chainlink to form a smoking pen, where a few kids in spiked, dark mesh clothes smoked cigarettes. A boy whose earlobe had been stretched to grotesque proportions was making out with a girl who had a long needle through her eyebrow.