The shadow turned his head toward Midas, as if he could guess the direction of his thoughts.
Midas inclined his head, not bothering to smooth away his glare, and Ambrose lost interest in him.
The first mile passed in uneventful silence. The second was much the same, except for the worsening smell. The third made his skin prickle with the steady wash of dark magic across him. The fourth shoved him, as if he had braced his shoulder against a wall and was attempting to push a building out of his way.
“Looks like this is as far as you go.” Hadley caught his arm and pulled him back from the barrier. “You don’t need to tire yourself out getting closer. Save your strength for when you need it. I doubt Ford or Hank could manage even this far. It’s better if you stay where they can easily reach you.”
“I don’t like this.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was no less true. “I don’t want to let you go.”
For myriad reasons, but the biggest one was how her entering Faerie while he stayed behind smacked of cowardice on his part. As if she was the one facing his past while he was too afraid to revisit it.
“Me neither.” She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “I don’t want to go in there, the building or the archive. I don’t want to worry about you alone out here. I don’t want innocent people to die because the coven views anyone non-coven as acceptable losses. What I want is to go home, kick back, watch a movie, and stuff myself with popcorn.”
“I’m game.” Remy brightened on the spot. “I get to pick the movie, though.”
Midas tightened his hold on Hadley, lowered his head, and breathed in her scent. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“That’s why I’m going to let you go,” he said, more to himself than her. “You need to do this.”
“Yeah.” She exhaled, withdrawing. “I do.”
“Ugh.” Remy walked off a few steps. “Here come the feels.” She gagged loudly. “Good thing I don’t have any popcorn. I’d hork it up listening to you two.”
Ignoring Remy, Hadley rose on her tiptoes and brushed her soft lips across his. “Be safe.”
“You be safe.” He made it an order. “Come back to me.”
“Don’t worry.” She grinned impishly. “I’m not leaving this world until after I’ve seen you in Spock ears.”
“Actually,” Remy interrupted her. “You kind of are. We’re going to Faerie, remember?”
“You know what I mean.” She rolled her eyes at Remy then refocused on him. “I doubt it will do any good, but I’ll keep my phone on me.”
“I’ll text you when Ford and Hank get here, but your phone won’t work in Faerie. I doubt it’ll work in the archive. You should power it off once you’re in. That ought to insulate it enough to function when you get back if you need to call for a pickup.”
“No timer then either. Gotcha. That’s okay. We’ll wing it.” She took a step back. “Wish me luck?”
The overpowering urge to grab her, tuck her under his arm, and run twitched in his fingers. He made a fist to crush the impulse then forced a smile. She would see through it, but she wouldn’t call him on it.
“You don’t need it.” He locked his knees to keep from following her. “You’ll do fine.”
Nodding, she turned her back on him and walked away.
* * *
Nothing on Earth or in any other realm could have pried Midas from the spot where Hadley left him until she was out of sight. After her scent faded to memory, he retreated a safe distance to wait on Ford and Hank.
The derelict warehouse was hemmed in by trees eager to reclaim the land and choked with overgrowth. He selected one of the taller oaks, climbed as high as his weight allowed, and didn’t fool himself when he stared across the expanse between him and the warehouse with his heart in his throat.
His mate was out there. Rushing toward danger. Eager to do battle. Prepared to make sacrifices.
God, he loved her spirit. She would make a fine alpha one day. Midas prayed he lived to see it.
Nights like these, he was certain Hadley would give him a coronary long before then.
Once he settled in at a cross section of limbs, he kept his ears perked and a wary eye on the forest.
No birds sang, no insects chirped. No breeze stirred the leaves, and no moonlight pierced the dark clouds over his head. The sickly-sweet stench of black magic clogged his nose, and bristled fur brushed the underside of his skin in response.
This deep into enemy territory, he couldn’t risk a text or call giving away his location. The screen was a danger too, but he trusted the leaves to hide its glare. He settled for checking his silent phone every so often, which, honestly, he would have done anyway.
Fifteen minutes after Hadley and Remy left, Bishop texted him.
>>The hearts are missing.
Heart booming in his ears, he couldn’t stop his gaze from swinging toward where Hadley had gone.
>What?
>>The. Hearts. Are. Missing.
>Hadley said you hid them. How were they discovered?
>>I moved them to HQ.
>Why would you do that?
>> It’s our most secure location. Less than a dozen people can find it, let alone enter it.
>You, Hadley, me, and Remy passed through tonight. No one else had access?
>>Anca and Reece have been at their computers for the last twelve hours straight. No one could have gotten in or out without being seen. Besides, no one comes to HQ aside from Hadley and me.
>You’re saying one of us is to blame.
>>What the hell else could it mean?
>>Hadley is going to Faerie.
>>Maybe she hoped to handle negotiations with Natisha on your behalf while she was there.
Spiderweb cracks spread across the surface of his phone’s screen, but his fist refused to unclench.
Take the hearts, seal the deal, and keep Natisha on the right side of Faerie. Away from him. He could see her making that call. With the chaos in Atlanta, the last thing that powder keg needed was a match, and Natisha was a flamethrower.
There was no shortage of coven members out tonight. A seventh heart was hers for the taking.
But after their promise to make time for the hard talks, he believed she would have told him her plan.
Though she might have waited until after she stood safe inside a ward ring he wasn’t strong enough to bull through first.
One more obvious choice loomed, but Midas hated to point the finger, even with their fraught past.
>Or Remy is a traitor.
>>Or that.
>We can’t send Hadley off alone with her.
>>Who else do we have to send? Know anyone else with a handy dybbuk bond who’s available?
The jab shook loose what should have been obvious, and Midas cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.
>>Midas.
>>Answer me, damn it.
>Tell Ford supplies are waiting for him in an oak tree two miles southeast of Gas ’n Go. He can track my phone to get exact coordinates. I’ll leave it here. I have no use for it where I’m going.
After he tucked the phone in a pocket as promised, he hung the packs on sturdy limbs.
Crimson magic bathed his limbs as he leaped down. He landed on all fours, shaking out his coat. The black magic stench burned his nose and pinched his lungs, but he had made his choice.
Hadley was in danger, and he wasn’t twiddling his thumbs while his mate risked her life a world away.
There were no guarantees Remy wished her ill. There was every chance she had done the exact thing Bishop feared Hadley might have considered, taking the hearts—and their obligation to Natisha—in hand.
But Bishop had reminded him he shared a connection with Hadley that just might save his soul, and he was willing to risk it. For her.
Ten
As Remy and I faded into the dark, I became aware of how little I knew about macalla in their feral s
tate. Her spine lengthened as she abandoned her typical slouch for ruler-straight posture, and her usual clomping steps fell silent. Cunning gleamed in her eyes, and her upper teeth just overlapped her bottom lip. Her fingers extended, turned knotty with extra joints, and sprouted lime-green claws.
I might have gulped. Hard. A few times. But I could still find my friend in her questionable fashion tastes.
Apparently, Bishop wasn’t the only one sharing his deepest, darkest secrets tonight.
Shadows cocooned the warehouse a dozen yards away, but its parking lot bustled with activity.
“We need to get onto the roof.” Her voice whistled through her teeth. “Can you climb?”
“I do okay.” I checked the bag for rope, but I came up empty. “Are you sure that’s the way to go?”
“No one ever looks up. Trust me.” She flexed her odd fingers. “They won’t see us coming.”
As confident as she sounded for a woman dressed in a white bodysuit with sequins, I had to believe her.
She mimed zipping her lips, pointed toward the nearest tree, a pine with rust-colored needles and a split trunk that indicated a recent brush with lightning, and sank her nails into its flaking bark.
I raised my eyebrows to convey my doubt at her choice.
With inhuman quickness, she scurried to the charred treetop for the best view then flashed me a signal I took to mean it was my turn. How did she expect me to follow that act? I wasn’t Spider Girl. Squirrel Girl would be more accurate, given how nutty this whole operation was, but I would do my best.
The pine groaned under my weight, and the limbs I’d watched her use creaked beneath my hands and feet. The third time I fully extended my body, I heard a vital, cracking noise.
“Remy,” I whisper-screamed, but it was too late.
The ground rushed up and smacked me in the face. The air exploded from my lungs, my palms screamed at the splinters embedded in them, and when I caught my breath again, I smelled Christmas and realized I had inhaled a handful of pine needles.
“Oww.”
The dark smudge of my shadow peeled away until Ambrose sat beside me. He ran his fingertips down my spine, and chills followed the prickling of his energy, but he appeared satisfied. I must not have broken anything in the fall.
A slight rustle was all the warning I got before Remy landed beside my head.
“You’re heavier than you look.” She flipped me over to confirm I was still alive. “This just got harder.”
Voice high and airy, I wheezed, “You’re the one who chose a dead tree as a steppingstone.”
“The north side is fine. It’s the south side that got struck. It’s still alive. Recovering even. Totally safe.”
Trust a fae to intuit something like that but not grasp I weighed more than a leaf. She knew snacking was my favorite hobby. It was like her common sense had flown out the window when she…
Oh.
Huh.
This might be a problem.
There was freedom in giving one’s self over to one’s base nature. Midas and I had similar, predatory drives, but I never stopped to consider what Remy’s might be. Aside from her multiplying trick, I hadn’t witnessed her use her talents. She told us stealth was a skill she had honed, and that might be true, but for her to have lost herself so quickly, I had to wonder.
Maybe one of her selves had more affinity with nature? Or maybe this was how she got in the zone? The truth was, I had no idea, and I had no time to ask. I trusted Remy, and I had to take her method on faith.
“I’ll go high, you go low.” She returned to the burned tree. “I’ll get on the roof and create a distraction.”
“We don’t want to put them on alert,” I cautioned her. “Make it subtle.”
“Please.” She sunk in her nails, and charred bark peeled away. “Subtlety is my middle name.”
Here I thought it was ohmygoddesswe’reallgoingtodie, which is what I screamed while riding with her.
“Last one there is a rotten egg,” she called softly, and skittered up the trunk.
Ambrose tilted his head back and watched until she disappeared from view.
“Looks like it’s just you and me,” I told him. “I’m counting on you to watch my six.”
The shadow stared after Remy, his posture tense, but he shook off his mood and waved me on.
In following his lead, I placed more trust than ever in his dynamic duo vow. He got me within five yards of the open bay doors on the east side of the warehouse, and I paid him in caramel brownie brittle, the last of my Choco-Loco stash.
Lowering into a crouch behind a bush, I observed the coven and reacquainted myself with the layout.
Wooden crates dotted the loading dock. Those were new. A practitioner with a clipboard used a random single box as a stool, but most were stacked three and four high. As far as I could tell, the guy was in charge of checking off names before ushering newbies into the waiting vans.
Done processing the last batch, he opened a bag of chips and settled in with his phone.
Must be nice to sit on your butt, snacking and scrolling while everyone else got their hands bloody.
About the time my thighs began quivering, a cold point jabbed the base of my skull.
A shocked exhale burst out of me, and I froze as hot breath fanned my neck and shoulders.
Fear pounded out a tempo in my chest, and I had a split second to curse Ambrose for not warning me.
You jerk. You coward. You liar, I thought at him. You said we were in this together.
A rough tongue swept up my nape, leaving a thick trail of drool behind to dry in the balmy night air.
“Midas.” I whipped my head toward him. “What are you doing here?”
With a doggy grin, he bounded off into the crowded parking lot like a puppy on a playdate.
The guy on the dock spotted him and stared, confused by his appearance or stunned at his gall, I don’t know. Midas lowered his front end until his elbows hit the pavement then shook his tail at them.
The message was clear: Catch me if you can.
Or maybe it was Kiss my grits.
Definitely one of the two.
Only a previously unknown inner wellspring of strength prevented me from recording it with my phone.
Oh, but I wanted to, so badly.
Why he came, I didn’t know. There was no time to ask him. But he saved Remy from exposing herself. He must have figured out we needed more help to cross the finish line than we realized.
Throwing back his head, Midas bayed at the moon, and the lazy practitioner scrambled for cover.
A scream brought backup running, but they scattered and squeaked like mice before a hunting cat.
Allowing Ambrose to guide me, I trailed him behind one of the waiting vans then snorted at the driver. He had locked himself in and sat with his nose mashed against the glass. The coven was scraping the bottom of the barrel for these guys.
Thanks for the distraction, Stud.
No one paid attention to me or my shadow as we crept up the cement stairs. As I got even with one of the crates, I noticed it held black backpacks, not unlike the ones we brought with us from HQ. Worry over what they contained tempted me to unzip one, but I had no time to be nosy.
Still, I appreciated the coven leaving stacks scattered across the dock. They made for excellent cover.
Slinking from shadow to shadow, I slipped unseen inside the warehouse then plastered my back against the wall until I got my bearings.
The concrete floor in the main space contained a yawning maw that stretched from corner to corner, a good thirty feet across. With a gulp, I realized the portal had grown since the last time I was here.
Sulfurous mist tickled my nose and threatened to make me sneeze as it oozed from the portal’s edges to lap at the ankles of the thirteen witchborn fae who stood watch over it with a chant on their lips.
I couldn’t see from this angle, but the goal was a staircase made of oxidized metal spiraling down, down, down un
til it vanished from sight. That was my way in. The only way in. I just had to get there in one piece.
Past thirteen witchborn fae.
With instant access to a bottomless archive teeming with monsters eager to be worn, to feel alive again.
Easy-peasy.
The portal guardians didn’t bat an eye at the commotion. They were content to let the others handle the ruckus. They must be linked in an active casting they couldn’t stop without aborting the spell. That might work in my favor, depending on its purpose and if they could hurl it at me when I breached their line.
A pointy finger jabbed me in the shoulder hard enough to bruise, and I jumped before I saw Remy, come down from her hiding place.
Ambrose and I really needed to have a talk about him alerting me to oncoming danger and the approach of friendlies. How else could I act suave and debonair in the face of danger?
“Your man sure knows how to make a distraction.” She settled in beside me. “Why’s he here?”
“No clue.” I trusted him to act in our best interests. “Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
Remy touched the strap of her backpack, and when she noticed me looking, she yanked it tighter.
“It almost fell off on the way over,” she explained. “How do we get past the portal guards?”
“Ambrose?” I jerked my chin toward them. “Take them down.”
The shadow, given permission, raced toward them with the bounding strides of a dog on a scent.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” Her fingers curled and released at her sides. “They’re casting.”
“Ambrose can handle them.” I didn’t get into the particulars. “He’ll incapacitate two or three, and then we’ll make a run for it.”
“Incapacitate?” She frowned. “You do know spells can go boom if you set them off ahead of schedule?”
Cold sweat blossomed on my forehead as I tried not to think too hard about what I had almost done.
“I do now.” I focused my attention inward to shoot him a message. “Dial it down a few notches, okay?”
The shadow radiated displeasure, but he slowed his assault until his strikes gained surgical precision.
Moment of Truth Page 10
