Sparrow laid still, listening to the newcomer’s reply. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t do anything more but tighten his fingers around his bow. This early, he couldn’t discount her as a threat. Didn’t dare. But she sounded playful, like this was all a game.
He tipped his head slowly, locking his eyes on hers. She didn’t look like a junkie, wasn’t like Big Blue.
He sat up, hopped off his perch, emerged from the shadows. His movements were silent; one moment he was hidden in shadow and the next he was visible. That simple, that easy, that sudden. No, she definitely wasn’t one of the junkies.
“Well, cara bella,” he said. “You were making noise with your shoes.” He gestured at her feet. “The hearing, it gets awfully sensitive down under the streets.” This, at least, was true; Sparrow had noticed his ears sharpening even as his eyes adjusted as well as human eyes could to the darkness.
He let his hand drop away from the bow for now, to roll his sleeves up on his arms. Casual motion. He could grab the bow fast enough if it came to a fight. “What brings a pretty little thing like you down here?”