"Do I?" Sera replied, her tone turning mild enough to sting if you knew what to look for. It wasn’t a challenge; she didn’t really do that. But the other woman had definitely gotten her attention.

And that wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

The woman’s teeth flashed. "You must be so brave, traveling with so many men. It’s... unusual."

She let her eyes slip past Sera to rake in the tall bodies and easy weapons behind her. She wasn’t even trying to hide the envy in her eyes; it was like she didn’t think she needed to lie.

She might have thought that she had the upper hand, and that the six men on her side could take on the four on Sera’s, but it was clear to both Sera and her creature that the other woman wanted to add their men to her horde.

Sera’s eyes turned cold for a moment as Elias’s jaw went a shade tighter. Lachlan’s grin showed off his canines that seemed to be growing.

Alexei didn’t blink at all.

Zubair, on the other hand, stepped forward a fraction, his boot toe lining with Sera’s. "We’re resupplying," he stated, his voice neutral. "Surely we are allowed to do that."

"Of course you are," she sang. "But since we are holding this location for the General. If you’re resupplying, there are rules."

"Of course there are," Lachlan replied, his smile was too bright to be real.

Zubair, on the other hand, didn’t take the bait. He put Sera to his left without making a show of it and let his boot line with hers. "We’ll be quick," he said, voice neutral. "We won’t touch what belongs to someone else."

The glossy woman’s smile found a new corner. "Everything here belongs to the General." Her eyes slid back to Zubair, slow, deliberate. "And to those who stand with him. If we go by your rules, you won’t leave with anything at all."

She didn’t bother hiding the way she looked past Sera to rake in the tall bodies and easy weapons behind her. Men like that were what was needed to remain in power, and the glossy woman wanted that power more than she wanted her next breath.

Stepping forward, she acted like she could already feel the balance tipping in her favor.

"You must be so brave," she added, looking at Sera but not really seeing her. Her smile bright and false even as her eyes glazed over like she couldn’t stand looking at another woman, let alone acknowledging one. "Traveling with so many men. It’s... unusual. Most women are smart enough to stay home."

Sera’s expression didn’t change.

Her hair lay shiny and smooth on the brass lines of her jacket; the long half-skirt made anyone looking at it feel that much hotter, and her leather pants under it drank in the light.

A blink was all she gave the compliment, if it was meant as one.

"That your idea of rules?" Lachlan asked the air. "Compliments and ownership?"

The glossy one didn’t look at him but allowed her eyes to rest on Zubair. "We start at the north end and move south. Everyone gets two stores. No stripping. No backtracking. Food court stays common." She said common like she was spitting a seed.

"We’ll leave it better than we found it," Elias offered, diplomatic because it cost nothing. He slid a hand into his pack and came up with a small box of 9mm. He held it openly on his palm.

Sera didn’t say a word.

Her gaze cut to the box, then to Elias. It was a simple look, but if looks were knives, then Elias would be on the floor bleeding right now.

Before Elias could decide if he was putting it away or going to continue offering it, Lachlan reached out, plucked the box from his palm, and tucked it into his own jacket like a street magician stealing a watch.

He didn’t break eye contact with the glossy woman while he did it. "We don’t donate," he said, pleasant. "Church is closed."

The bat man’s knuckles whitened.

His fingers twitched like he couldn’t decide if he’d try to trade for that box or take Elias’s hand off to get it. Alexei cleared his throat once—barely a sound, and the bat stopped twitching.

"We’re not here to share," Sera said, finally. Calm. Not loud. "We’re here to take what we need."

The glossy one’s lashes dipped, slow as a curtain. "We don’t strip," she repeated, her tone sweetening until it stuck to your teeth. "That’s how this stays a haven for the General. You give us something for something."

She stepped to her left so close to Zubair that her perfume—not sweat, not work... but actual perfume—tainted the heat. Her fingers brushed the crook of his arm as if by accident. "Men like yours understand systems, even if you are too slow to be able to."

Zubair shifted an inch, enough to make a point without making a scene. "We understand ownership," he said. "We don’t confuse it with permission."

The other woman’s smile cooled a degree.

She let her eyes touch his shoulders again anyway, then drifted to Elias, to Lachlan, to Alexei. "You don’t have to travel with her," she said, soft, like an idea you wanted to believe belonged to you. "It’s safer in numbers. The General looks after those who look after him. A woman like her—"

"A woman like her is standing right here," Lachlan cut in, grin bright enough to be a threat. "Say it to her face. You were doing so well."

One of the men—the quiet watcher with the ratty ball cap—looked at Sera the way people look at water in a drought.

The man next to him didn’t bother to hide the calculation that always comes right before a bad decision.

Even the shy woman at the back, the one hugging a binder like a life preserver, watched Sera with something else entirely—want, or wonder, or both.

"It’s polite to ask," Sera replied, mild, letting the glossy one finish whatever ugly sentence she thought she had the right to. "Thieves tend to die early."

The glossy one’s smile stayed in place, but Sera saw the little fist her hand made under it. Jealousy wore a lot of colors. This one showed up clear.

"Let’s go inside," Zubair decided, not for their benefit but for his. "There is no need to keep us out here all this time."

The sun on his neck screamed exposure, the openness of the parking lot screamed ambush.

The glossy one chirped apology like a hostess at a bad restaurant. "We’ve had trouble with raiders. They take. They don’t ask. We had to learn to be careful."

Her eyes went back to Sera’s brass buttons, to the long fall of black fabric, to the leather that didn’t belong to anyone but did now.

Heat lived in the look that had nothing to do with temperature.

"Careful is good," Sera said, already moving. She put her hand on the stuttered-open glass like it belonged to her and stepped through. "I’ve learned that it keeps people alive longer than they should be."