CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
They walked to the nearest bus station from Luna’s apartment in Uptown and waited on a street corner for what seemed like ages for the bus to arrive. The buses never ran on time, but they were especially behind tonight, so much that it ate into the time they would have saved. It wasn’t exactly convenient to get from Uptown to Logan Square on the L.
“This isn’t going to work,” Desmond said, walking away. “I don’t like having to take the L, but let’s go.”
Rocco and Luna transformed into ravens and flew above as Desmond and Cyrus walked below.
It was late, the bone quiet, blackened blade of night that reminded Cyrus of lone saxophone solos on street corners, rats scurrying into the shadows, crisscrossing steel of the L stations accentuated by orange-tinted streetlights
