Chapter 4

“He has a strange metabolism,” Mendoza explained, pausing between slow draws on the pipe. “Few spices seem to bring him any effects.”

Ren nodded. “He’s not a local then, not un chicano?”

Mendoza shrugged, irritation in the movement. “I have no idea. He’s useful. He passed my tests for loyalty and reliability. I ask no more. Where my people called home before they came here is of no significance to me.”

Ren knew better than to pursue that line of questioning for now. He could not afford to make Mendoza either angry or suspicious. Perhaps he’d have a chance to ask Sombra himself later on. He took a careful draw, felt the sweet, scented smoke warm through his lungs and then flow out his nostrils as he exhaled. Trusting in the spell, he expected the drug not to affect him. At least he hoped it would not.