â€œI deserved that, didnâ€™t I?â€ Kalab smiled, truly smiled at her, expression dancing with impressed amusement. He wasnâ€™t surprised in the least that Nehmahati would have struck him for overstepping this line in the sand. But sheâ€™d erase it herself, sooner or later. Or he would, if she insisted on being so gods-damned stubborn. Because she wanted him to have done it. And probably hated that she did.<br/><br/>He let her have her blade back, and wiped the line of blood sliced from his palm unconcernedly on the leg of a pair of blue jeans he wore so awkwardly. A few droplets pattered onto the cement. â€œCome, dear heart. This place is not fancy, but it is hidden, I assure you.â€<br/><br/>With that, he led her, not quite in the opposite direction sheâ€™d been going, but at an angle. Through alleys and once down the silent tunnel of the subway, as if concerned they were being followed. He didnâ€™t say a word, but when they reached the far end of the tunnel, instead of coming back out or even waiting for a tram, he stepped down onto the tracks and offered Nehmahati help down as well.<br/><br/>He ducked into the first doorway on the track. It felt like stepping through a thin wall of water as he passed, and Kalab relaxed visibly once inside. It might not have been so obvious that this was where heâ€™d been staying, though the normal subway maintenance accoutrements had been cleared out in favor of shelves stacked with weaponry of nearly every kind. â€œSit,â€ he told her gently, waving a hand distractedly at the single chair against the wall between a desk and cot.