“At least the difference worked in our favor.” That was an unexpected blessing. “You mentioned chocolate?”
“I have KitKats or Hershey bars.”
“The Hersheys are plain? No almonds or crackle?”
“Plain dark chocolate.”
“The things I do for this city.” I took the hunk of chocolate, tore the wrapper, and bit down. “Mmm.”
“Yes.” Midas had bought a jerky and a water for himself. “I can tell you’re suffering.”
Noticing him pocket the rejected option, I asked, “You don’t want the KitKat?”
“I’m saving it for you for later.”
“You don’t trust me to hold my own spare candy bar?”
“No.” He gave me a flat look. “I don’t.”
“That’s fair.” The phone screen flashed and then held steady. “Here we go.”
I dialed the number for HQ, prepared to begin the directional sequence, but the line click-clacked.
“Hello?”
“Hello?” I parroted, dumfounded. “Bish, is that you?”
“Are you serious right now?” he demanded. “Who else would be answering this line?”
“Good question.” I crushed the box in one hand. “You never do. How do I know this is really you?”
As much as I wanted reassurances the OPA could monitor the Active Oval, I had to verify him first.
“Where are you? I’ll come get you.” He swore under his breath. “I can’t be sure it’s really you either.”
We had more room to maneuver in an outdoor location if an imposter showed up, which suited me fine.
After giving him the address of the gas station, he ended the call, and we settled in to wait.
“Borrow your phone?” Midas took a sip from his water bottle. “I need to update Mom.”
“Technically, you bought it.” I handed it to him. “It’s your phone.”
Midas snorted, as if to say what was his was mine, then settled in to let his mom know her only son had made it back in one piece.
Normal parent/children relationships were so weird. All the caring and sharing, the worrying and waiting by the phone, the fear and pride mingling. It was nice, what little I had experienced, but strange. Like living one of those black-and-white movies. Except not a science fiction one where the parents are robots or Martians.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
The unfamiliar chime of the new phone startled me as it spewed replies as fast as he could text.
“You can read over my shoulder,” he said without pausing. “I don’t mind.”
Taking him up on the offer, mostly to be closer to him, I asked, “Any word on Ford and Hank?”
“They tracked my phone to the supplies. Bishop told them what likely happened, that I had gone to join you, and they followed my trail to the wards. They couldn’t get past the second ring, so they fell back to the tree line. They’re on standby in Buckhead. With the archive unplugged from Faerie and the other faegates, they’re ready to return to the action. As soon as we have a rendezvous point, they’ll meet us there.”
“Good.” I sent a prayer of thanks to Hecate for protecting them. “We can use all the help we can get.”
“Mom wants to know if it’s okay to send reinforcements to the portal.” He let me think. “It’s your call.”
“Natisha is a gwyllgi, therefore she’s a gwyllgi problem. That gives us an excuse, outside the agreed-upon forces allotted to each faction, to request a stronger gwyllgi presence in the city.”
A teasing light entered his eyes that made my heart beat faster. “You’re getting better at politicking.”
“Hazards of the job.”
I was finishing my candy bar, which, okay, doesn’t take long, when Bishop walked into the parking lot.
“Hey.” Jerking away from Midas, I shot to my feet. “You don’t know how good it is to see you.”
“Test first.” He pulled out one of Abbott’s kits. “Update later.”
Used to the procedure by now, I let him test me and then Midas. We were both negative. I then took the kit and tested Bishop. He was also negative, which meant positive news for us all.
“Now that we’ve established we’re all who we say we are—” I flung my arms around him and squeezed hard, “—I’m glad you’re safe. How are the others? The pack? The city?”
“Come with me.” He waved us into the dark. “We need to do this in private. The coven has ears everywhere out in the open.”
I’m not proud of how my feet stuck to the asphalt a second too long, or how the hesitation made Bishop jerk as if I had stuck a knife in him.
“I borrowed Ford’s truck.” He stepped back, giving me space, then pointed to it in an adjacent lot. “We’re going to HQ.”
“I’m sorry.” I ducked my chin. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
“Weirdly enough,” he mused, “it’s comforting to discover you have a vague grasp on self-preservation.”
Mature as always, I made a face at him then walked with him and Midas to Ford’s truck.
The silence on the streets was eerie. Thick fog swirled and blinded us, making it worse. There were no people out and about, no lights on in any stores, no movement aside from the piercing beams of the headlights.
“Who put the city to bed early?” I wondered, pressing my nose to the window. “How did they do this?”
“The coven sheltering at the Faraday.” Bishop winked at me. “The humans won’t wake until dawn.”
“I bet Linus paid through the nose for that.” I pictured endless zeroes. “I never want to see that bill.”
“The cashier at the gas station must have been paranormal.” A line bisected Midas’s forehead. “He said I was his first customer all night. I took it to mean his shift just started, but maybe not.”
“We’ve spread the word to batten down the hatches,” Bishop continued, “but we can’t reach everyone, and not everyone is willing to risk their jobs for their lives.”
Humans had it worse on that front, but paras got fired just as easily if they dared put their health above their paycheck.
Linking and unlinking my fingers, I worked up the courage to ask, “How is the Faraday?”
Terrified he would say it was a smoking crater, a pockmark on the face of the city, I had let fear gut me.
“We’re holding on by our fingertips,” he reported. “The battle isn’t lost yet.”
Once Bishop cut the final turn into a familiar parking deck, I knew where HQ resided for the night.
Buttoning his lips, Bishop exited the truck, and we trailed him up three flights of stairs into HQ.
After the door shut behind him, his shoulders unkinked for the first time since coming to get us. His relief at returning operations to our mutual home away from home was evident as he dropped into his task chair, and it squeaked as its wonky caster spun him under his desk.
Inside, Reece’s screen shone with occupation, but he was hunched over his desk, deep in concentration. He glanced up, noticed we had returned, then went back to his tap-tap-tapping on the keyboard.
“There’s movement on the lowest level of the parking garage, coming in from the same direction as your entry,” he reported to Bishop. “I can’t tell who or what yet, but they’re closing in fast and sticking to the shadows.”
“We were followed?” I wrapped my arms around myself. “That never happens.”
“There are close to two hundred practitioners in the city, as far as we can tell. That’s a lot of people with a lot of magic to perform tracking spells.”
Queasiness spread through my gut in cramping waves. “I led them to HQ.”
“They followed you, or Midas, or me. They didn’t find the OPA.” He palmed his mouse. “Big difference.”
As long as they were tracking me, not HQ, the other locations remained secure.
“There are parking decks all over the city,” Midas added. “They won’t bat an eye at you entering one.”
“They’ll blink
when I don’t leave.” I let my smile tip toward him. “That gives us a little time, though.”
“They’re going to have kittens when they realize their supply chain has been cut and their exit has been blocked. They’re stuck here, with no way out and no way to bring in more coven.” A smile, the first real one I had seen Bishop wear since the wintry road, twitched in his cheek. “You did sever the archive, right?”
“Um.” I stuck out a hand and wavered it side to side. “Yes and no.”
“Be more specific.”
“We collapsed three out of the four earthbound faegates and the main one leading into Faerie, from the Faerie side. The final earthbound gate, in Buckhead, remains active.” Alpha and omega, how fitting. “The only way to pull its plug is to reenter the archive.”
Mild amusement got the better of him when he asked, “And this portal you created?”
Clearly, he was tickled I could cross realms. I just hoped he understood I never wanted to ever again.
“The Active Oval portal will collapse on its own.” I waved off his concern. “We don’t have to sweat that one.”
We only had to guard it until nature took its course and erased all signs of its ever being there.
“Collapse?” Bishop huffed out a laugh. “Portals don’t just collapse.”
“Trust me.” I jerked my chin toward Ambrose. “This one will.”
Interest piqued, he settled in to hear our full accounting, pausing us here and there to ask questions.
“How do we sever the tether from the archive to Buckhead?” Bishop frowned. “Any ideas?”
Only the one, and it was a major time suck. “All I can figure is we go back to the warehouse and—”
Nails scratched at the door leading into HQ from the parking deck, and we all froze like cornered mice in utter shock at hearing the next best thing to a knock on our frakking front door.
Never, in the history of the OPA’s magically revolving HQ, had this happened before tonight.
Following us into the parking deck was one thing, but this insult set my upper lip quivering gwyllgi-style.
Cranking my head toward the screens, I demanded, “Who’s out there?”
“Gwyllgi,” Reece answered. “I count eight, but there could be more hidden behind the cars.”
“The Faerie pack?” A groan clawed up my throat. “We told them we didn’t want their dumb pack.”
A low growl built in Midas’s chest, and he stepped forward, crimson magic dripping from his fingertips.
“Ambrose?” I waited for my shadow to form. “Check it out for us?”
With a neat bow, he walked through the door and disappeared from sight.
“They must have followed us through the portal.” Midas flexed his jaw. “I didn’t expect them to be so bold.”
That portal was bound to bite us on the butt. I shouldn’t have been surprised when its jaws snapped shut so fast. But…if they came through it…why hadn’t we been notified when they breached the circle?
“You took over a gwyllgi pack in Faerie?” Bishop shot to his feet. “Are you out of your mind?”
“It was an accident.” I got between them. “Midas didn’t kill the alpha, even though he deserved it. How were we supposed to know kicking his butt was enough to transfer the mantle of power?”
“Fae aren’t used to fighting to the literal death for anything.” Bishop began to pace. “They can, and do, live forever, and they like it that way. Plus, it adds spice later when the usurper is usurped. Otherwise, most fae lives don’t change. Fae don’t do much, certainly nothing dangerous, on account of wanting to live an eternity.”
“The stories are full of scheming, backstabbing, and murder,” I protested. “Are all fairy tales lies?”
“You know how the Society puts the interest of the High Society above the Low Society? And the Low Society’s interests above anyone non-necromancer? That’s how Faerie works. Our high fae are set in their ways, and they like the status quo. Our lesser fae are more expendable. Our halflings and changelings are cannon fodder for wars, territorial disputes, and entertainment purposes. And it gets worse from there.”
“No wonder the stories are so Grimm.”
Midas chuckled softly before squeezing off the sound. “Still not funny.”
“Still laughed.” I poked him in the ribs. “You really shouldn’t encourage me.”
“The pack didn’t come through the portal,” Reece interrupted. “We’ve got eyes on it. There’s been no movement so far. You didn’t feel your circle break because it hasn’t broken. They took a different path.”
With Natisha in the coven’s pocket, we couldn’t be sure she—and therefore the pack—didn’t have access to other portals they had created outside the archive. Otherwise, the pack had to barter with someone to get here. The Earthen Conclave certainly hadn’t stamped their passports at this hour.
“Okay, kid.” Bishop hauled us back on track. “What do we do about our guests?”
Without sharing a chunk of Midas’s history with Bishop, I couldn’t frame why these particular gwyllgi had earned my distrust. That hardly mattered with them a threat at the door.
“Can you distract them?” I rubbed my forehead. “Draw them off so we can get out? We need to head to the Faraday anyway.”
We could lead them onto a collision course with our people in the field and be rid of them that way.
“It won’t fool them for long now that they’ve got your scent,” Midas warned. “They don’t forget.”
“We need a way out that doesn’t expose this location.”
“They found it.” Bishop shook his head. “We’ve got to burn it.”
“Burn your HQ?” Midas jerked. “That’s the only way?”
Aside from enlightening him as to how HQ migrated, when even I didn’t grasp the mechanics, I couldn’t explain why this wasn’t a world-ending consequence. It was the cost of doing business. HQ was fine. We wouldn’t lose anything here. Only the access point would change, and there were infinite parking garages for Bishop to choose from.
Though, I had to admit, I was starting to wonder if HQ existed in its own pocket realm. How else did Bishop tether it to a new location every night? The amount of power required to do that staggered me. And he did it on the fly?
Whoever he was, whatever he was, I was glad he was on our side.
“It’s fine.” I flapped a hand at Midas. “Don’t worry about it.”
“All right,” he said slowly. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Give me five minutes.” Bishop crossed the room. “And trade shirts with me.”
Midas obliged without question, and I did not snicker at the swap. Even if it left Bishop wearing a tee that would fool the gwyllgi, for a bit, with Midas’s scent and Midas in one that read Mind Your Own Biscuits, and Life will be Gravy.
Through the shadows, Bishop stepped, leaving us alone in HQ. Except for Reece, who resumed ignoring us.
Midas and I never had time to do the little things, like go out to nice dinners or hold hands on long walks. Movies and other couples’ activities ended in flames or brawls. Quiet moments like this one were about as close to date nights as we got these days, and there wasn’t a whole lot you could do in five minutes at HQ.
Unless you were willing to be recorded and then have that recording played for the whole team on a loop.
Forever.
Probably with popcorn, candy, and other refreshments made available.
The clock ran out as I weighed the pros and cons of selling the rest of my soul for a box of Junior Mints. “Give me video of the stairwell, please.”
“Clear,” Reece reported without glancing up, but he moved the live feed to a monitor for my benefit.
“Thanks.” I grabbed the doorknob and twisted. “Here we go.”
Midas let me go first, an impressive feat, one I rewarded with a saucy wink. Knowing my luck, I probably looked like I had something in my eye, but hey. I tried to keep the romance alive.
&
nbsp; Creeping down the stairs, I gave him room to shut the door behind him.
With HQ secure once more, I trusted Bishop to rip the magic out of this location as soon as he returned to his command center.
“We need to get clear of the stairwell.” Midas breathed in the lingering scents. “We don’t want to get pinned here if they don’t fall for Bishop’s ploy.”
“Say no more.” I jogged down the stairs. “Race you to the bottom.”
Surplus magic from Faerie was the only reason I had a bounce in my step. I was exhausted. I wanted to drop, curl up in a ball, and sleep forever. But I also vibrated with energy, with power, with purpose. It was like I wanted to go to sleep and dream I was a superheroine who saved the world or something, a dream to pull you under but keep your heart pumping.
Midas won the race.
He cheated.
To be fair, he leapt over my head to plant himself in front of me, not from any desire to beat me, but to place himself squarely between me and the lean gwyllgi who emerged from behind the car where he had been hiding out of view.
Magic washed away his furry form and left us facing a tall, slender man as beautiful as Ferro had been. Not that I would admit it aloud. Fae used beauty as a weapon. It was almost expected that the worst among them would also be the most jaw-dropping.
“Midas Kinase,” he said, his voice sonorous. “It has been an age since we last met.”
“Richter,” Midas growled the name. “What business do you have here?”
“You are young, but not ignorant. You won us from Ferro.” He spread his hands, taking in the surroundings. “Now, what would you have us do?”
“Hightail it back to Faerie before the Earthen Conclave notices you’re here?” I suggested. “I’m not real familiar with them or their rules, but I believe crossing realms is a big no-no.” I held up the burner phone and bluffed my butt off. “I’ve also recently added their tip line for reporting suspicious fae activities to my contacts.”
“Ah.” Richter peered at me over Midas’s shoulder, from a safe distance. “Lady Alpha.”
“I have enough titles.” I positioned myself beside Midas. “I don’t need another.”
“Have you no opinion on the matter?” Richter studied Midas. “Or does she speak for you?”
Moment of Truth Page 19
