Davey smiled then, showing blackened stumps. “Yes, you can, you certainly can.” He reached out one small, delicate hand and stroked the inside of Krishna’s wrist. “You’re very clever that way, you are.” Krishna closed his eyes and breathed heavily through his nose, as though in pain or ecstasy. “That’s a good skill to have.”
They stood there for a moment while Davey slowly trailed his fingertips over Krishna’s wrist. Then, abruptly, he grabbed Krishna’s thumb and wrenched it far back. Krishna dropped abruptly to his knees, squeaking in pain.
“You can spot my kind, but you know nothing about us. You are nothing, do you understand me?” Krishna nodded slowly. Alan felt a sympathetic ache in his thumb and a sympathetic grin on his face at the sight of Krishna knelt down and made to acquiesce. “You understand me?” Krishna nodded again.
Davey released him and he climbed slowly to his feet. Davey took his wrist again, gently. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he said.
Before Alan knew it, they were nearly upon him, walking back down the alley straight toward his hiding place. Blood roared in his ears and he pressed his back up against the doorway. They were only a step or two away, and after a couple of indiscreetly loud panting gasps, he clamped his lips shut and held his breath.
There was no way they could miss him. He pressed his back harder against the door, and it abruptly swung open and a cold hand wrapped itself around his bicep and pulled his through into a darkened, oil- and must-smelling garage.
He tripped over his own heel and started to go over, but a pair of hands caught him and settled him gently to the floor.
“Quiet,” came a hoarse whisper in a voice he could not place.
And then he knew who his rescuer was. He stood up silently and gave Billy a long hug. He was as skinny as death.