by Connor Crowe
The sun crept ever higher in the sky, stretching toward its zenith. High Sun, the Ataraxian saying for “noon”, was only a few moments away now, and Myrella would be looking for us. The thought of the strange...episode stayed with me as we traveled down the cobbled streets and across another bridge.
I had felt so...lost. So out of control. I never wanted to feel that way again.
With each step, we drew closer and closer to the Hub. Closer to being discovered, even though we kept off the main streets as much as we could.
It had been well over ten years since I’d been here—closer to twenty—and yet the city looked exactly as I’d remembered it. Except for the people.
They were...different, somehow. Different in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe it was still the lingering anxiety.
We ducked down an alley when we saw a group of people coming. Just to be safe, I told myself. But the moment we made a sharp left between buildings, a voice called out.
“Hey!”
Fear flashed in my gut and my mates tensed beside me.
“Keep walking,” I mouthed to them. Now there were footsteps. Running footsteps.
I picked up the pace, almost unconsciously. My mates’ hands in mine, they followed suit. The footsteps didn’t stop, though. They were following us.
No, that wasn’t the right word.
Chasing us.
James squeezed my hand so tight it started to go numb, and as for Hugo? I could already feel him heating up.
This was bad.
“Come back here!” The voice called, but I didn’t turn around. The end of the alley crept up on us. It spilled out into another market street, and if we could just make it that far...
Nearly sprinting now, we rushed out of the alleyway...and right into a passerby. The poor woman yelped and lost her balance, tumbling to the dusty ground. I tried to catch her, but we tumbled over her as well, landing in a big, messy pile of bodies.
The real problem? She was wearing a very nice looking white dress.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She spat, untangling herself and trying to brush the dirt off her clothes. “I told you to meet me at High Sun, not run me the hell over!”
Oh, crap. That was Myrella!
“I’m—“ I started. My joints ached as I regained my feet. From the look of it, Hugo and James weren’t faring much better. Far from the picture of class and elegance now, dirt caked onto our clothes and skin. Not to mention that the person that was chasing us had caught up.
“Hey,” the man growled again, this time close. I craned my neck to look at him. Red, puffy face. Beady little eyes. Thinning hair. “What are you doing here?”
Fear gripped me for a terrible moment. Had I been recognized?
Before I had a chance to form a response, Myrella spoke up. “I could ask you the same question, Hyde. Thought they locked you up.”
The man, apparently named Hyde, spat. “None of your business. I’m just trying to do my job.”
“And that is?” Myrella put her hands on her hips. Cocked her head to the side. “Get on with you, he’s not the man you’re looking for. I can vouch for him.”
Hyde’s lip curled into a sneer, and I could only watch in stunned silence. Not once, but twice this woman had saved our ass. And all over a mistaken identity...
James glanced at me, eyes wide. Hugo tensed, ready for a fight.
Hyde didn’t say anything more, though. He clenched his fists, gave Myrella a death stare, then turned on his heel and left, cursing under his breath.
As soon as he was out of earshot, her shoulders relaxed. “Whew,” she said under her breath, then looked over at us.
“Well, we are definitely going to need new clothes now.”
13
Hugo
“That was a close one,” Myrella breathed as soon as the man was out of earshot. “You definitely don’t want to get mixed up with those types.”
Suddenly, her entire demeanor changed. No longer the bubbly airhead she’d once presented as, now a cool, practical air surrounded her.
So much for first impressions.
I kept an eye on her. Two eyes. If she tried to double cross us, my first priority was to Tristan and James.
She picked up her pace now, walking incredibly fast past the row of buildings and down yet another alley. I couldn’t help but tense up this time—who knew what would be lurking in wait?
“Where are you taking us?” I asked at last. “And how are we supposed to trust you?”
She looked over her shoulder and grinned at me. “Oh, you’re not. But none of that now, I won’t say any more out here in the open.” And with that, she sped off down the alleyway, leaving us jogging to catch up.
I ground my teeth and groaned. If there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was unnecessary theatrics. Too bad this was just the place.
We stopped abruptly at what looked like nothing, at first glance. The smooth brass and steel of the buildings stretched down the alleyway. The ground vibrated with the thousands of tiny motors beneath us. But as I stopped and looked closer, I noticed something that many would have overlooked.
The smallest, almost imperceptible change in the coloring of the metal, suggesting that perhaps someone had got tired of painting it, or had not been able to match colors correctly. But it was more than just a color change. As she approached the anomaly and stuck out her hand, the smallest crease appeared between one building and the next.
A door.
She held up a finger to her lips, motioning for silence, then knocked. The metal clanged and reverberated down the alleyway and the ground vibrated beneath us once more.
I shot a wary glance at James and Tristan. This was just like every trap in the book.
“You sure about this?” I mouthed.
Tristan simply nodded once, and squeezed my hand.
By the fire, I hoped he was right.
I don’t know what I expected to find in the hidden alley alcove. Well, that was a lie. I had expectations, but what I ended up finding was nothing like I could have imagined.
I thought there would be some gruff, scarred man running an underground criminal ring or something. Thought that there would be some kind of secret password, handshake, or even a fingerprint scan.
But there was none of that. No slat opened in the hidden door with beady eyes staring at us.
Instead, a voice came from the other side of the door. A woman’s voice.
“Is that you, darling?”
“Yeah, let me in. I’ve brought friends.”
A pause.
“You should have told me you were having people over! The place is a mess!”
“Honey, you’re a mess. Now let us in before one of the Watchers comes back.”
“Fine, fine.” A mess of grumbling and mechanical creaking later, the door unsealed itself from the wall and opened inward.
If the exterior was intriguing, it was nothing compared to the world we stepped into when the door opened.
A riot of colors and smells greeted us as the wall caved in on itself. Incense burned in a gryphon-shaped holder, puffing out colored smoke toward the ceiling and giving the air a cozy haze. Clothing and fabric lined every surface. They boasted every color of the rainbow and then some.
Rich red velvet. Cool ivory silk. Rough weaves of green and brown. I’d never seen anything like it.
Finally, the owner of the voice stepped out from behind a mannequin. Surprises never ceased.
Where Myrella was tall and sprightly, this woman was round and shorter than even James. She wore huge circular glasses that took up most of her face, magnifying her electric green eyes. Dreadlocks embellished with wooden and glass beads piled atop her head, and thick eyeliner made her gaze even more arresting.
She was no less flamboyant than the rest of her surroundings, draped in a variety of patchwork fabrics that darted my eyes from one pattern to the next. She wore gauged earrings carved from bone and when she caught sight of
Myrella, her face stretched into a loving smile.
“There you are!” She put down the measuring tape and the bolt of fabric and rushed over to meet her. The height difference was almost comical, the new woman coming up to only Myrella’s chest. They embraced, and to my surprise, kissed one another.
“I was worried about you,” she muttered, unmindful of her guests. “You were gone longer than usual.”
“Told you,” Myrella said in the same soft tone. “I ran into some new friends.”
“Um,” James started, “Anyone wanna tell us what’s going on here?”
I was glad someone said it.
The two women separated and Myrella brushed hair out of her face before turning her gaze to us. Her cheeks glowed a distinct pink now, but her demeanor was no less excited.
“I’m so sorry, we should have introduced ourselves. This is my mate, Zion. If you can’t tell, she makes clothing and costumes for some of the up and coming socialites here on Ataraxis.”
“And?” James prompted. He crossed his arms. “Why all the cloak and dagger stuff?”
“Because.” Myrella’s eyes flashed and she gave us a knowing smile. “Welcome home, Tristan.”
“Bitch!” I roared, my firsts turning to flames in an instant. The feeling crackled over my skin and sparks burned on my tongue. It didn’t matter that we were in just about the most flammable place ever—she was going to burn!
“Away from the fabric, please!” Zion squeaked. Myrella’s eyes bulged. Tristan, for his part, stood stock still. All the color drained from his face.
I advanced on her before I could think of anything else. She dodged out of the way of my fist, and it was only when I heard a familiar voice that the rage softened.
“Hugo, stand down!” It was Tristan this time.
My Tristan.
His voice reached deep within and cooled the flames. Not put them out, mind you, but kept them under control. Little by little, my fists unclenched. I let out a breath. The flames fizzled out.
Silence.
Tristan was next to speak. “What the hell are you talking about?” He hissed at Myrella. “How long have you known?”
She snorted. “Oh come on, you really don’t remember me?”
“No, and you’re not making it any easier for me to trust you.”
I could feel his fear. Taste his concern. As an alpha I wanted nothing more than to obliterate the threat—anything to make him happy and safe again. But I held my breath, dug my nails into my palms, and waited.
It wouldn’t do any of us any good to send this whole shack up in flames.
Myrella sighed and folded her hands. “I used to work for your parents when you were little. I went by a different name then.”
Tristan narrowed his eyes. I did the same, ready to attack if she made a move.
Then suddenly, he perked up. Eyes widened. Tristan gasped.
“It’s been decades,” he said hoarsely. “How did you—“
“Oh, please. It’s part of the job.”
“She’s right, you know.” Zion spoke up. “Photographic memory, that one. Remembers every face she’s ever seen. I would know.” She nudged Myrella with a wink.
“Enough of this,” Tristan growled. “If you knew all this then you know we’re not here for fun and games. I swear to the skies if you told anyone…”
Myrella put her hands up in what was probably supposed to be a mollifying gesture. Zion followed suit and stood by her side. “I know you’re surprised, and I know you have no reason to trust me. But hear me out, please. I’m not here to hurt you.”
They continued this glare-off for what felt like ages, but I held my tongue. This was their fight.
“Then why are you here? Why did you seek us out?” Tristan’s voice was low now. Tired.
“I want to help you,” she said. Her eyes stayed focused on the ground and her voice was barely more than a whisper, but she seemed sincere enough. “When I saw you, I knew it could only mean one thing—that the world out there had gotten so bad you had no choice but to come back.” She looked up now, crossing her arms. Her arresting gaze flickered from Tristan to me to James.
“So tell me,” Myrella continued. “Why are you here? And who are these two cuties? I remember everyone I’ve met, and I’ve definitely not seem them before.”
I huffed out a breath. James crossed his arms. Tristan stayed silent for a moment, chewing over the words.
“They’re…” he started, shuffling from foot to foot.
Finally, I couldn’t take the tension anymore. I had to say something, and if Tristan wasn’t going to, I would.
“We’re his mates,” I said, stepping forward. “And if you harm him, you’ll have to deal with us.”
James tensed beside me. I felt Tristan do the same.
Well, someone had to say it.
Now that the cards were on the table, all that was left was to wait for her reaction.
14
Hugo
Myrella broke into a surprised grin, looking between the three of us again. “Two mates? I’ve never heard the like…”
“Got a problem with it?” I snapped. Flames still crackled at the back of my tongue, but what could I say? I was supposed to be a little protective.
“Oh no, not at all. This is wonderful!” Myrella clapped her hands. Zion beamed at us in turn. “I’m so glad that you found someone, Tristan. Well,” she regarded us, “several someones, it looks like. You were always such a sweet boy.” Her face fell just then, clouded by memory. “Terrible what happened when you left us. I can’t help but feel somewhat responsible.”
“What are you talking about?” Tristan furrowed his brow and shook his head. “You didn’t do anything. They were the ones that kicked me out—you were just the help.” He winced. “Uh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”
Myrella gave us a sad smile. “I know you didn’t. And you’re right. I was, as you said, ‘the help.’ But I could have ‘helped’ more, and I regret that I didn’t.” She bounced from one foot to the other. Fidgeted with her hands. Started pacing and picking through one of the random racks of clothes.
“I knew you were omega before your parents did,” she said, choosing to focus instead of a piece of green velvet. She flicked away a few specks of dust and sighed. “I knew before you even knew yourself, probably. It’s one of my gifts, but it tends to get me into trouble more often than not.”
I watched James and Tristan for their reactions. Both the dragon and phoenix inside me paced nervously, but I forced those feelings down. We weren’t here to do anything rash, and as long as she kept talking, maybe we could learn something.
Zion stepped in next. “What she means to say is that when they pawned you off to…” She grimaced. “I hesitate to call him a man…it changed how she saw things. How we saw things.”
Myrella nodded, her gaze back on us. She gave a nervous laugh. “I realized how stupid all of this was. How much time and energy everyone was wasting on a farce. Things needed to change, I knew that, but I couldn’t do it alone.” She sighed. “The day you left Ataraxis is the day I left your parents’ service, and I’ve been trying to make amends for that ever since.”
I blinked, speechless. Tristan, for his part, looked even more stunned. James remained enraptured by the story, his mouth hanging slightly open. The flames within me cooled.
She was telling the truth.
“Wow,” Tristan choked. “I had no idea.”
“You couldn’t have.”
I cleared my throat, sounding as awkward as I felt. Time was of the essence, though. “Excuse me for interrupting this little love fest, but where were we? I'm hoping all this means you can help us?"
Myrella tapped her chin then turned to her partner. A wild excitement flashed in her eyes. "I can do you one better." She nudged Zion and the shorter woman brightened, grinning at all three of us.
I knew that mischievous cheshire-cat grin anywhere. They were scheming already.
"Zion here is o
ne of the top costumers here on Ataraxis, if not the best," Myrella bragged. "Of course, I'm biased. She's my mate, after all. But she does damn good work, and I'm sure she will for you as well. I had my own reasons for going to the Gala tonight and Zion was going to make sure I looked the part, but I'll help however I can. What do you need, Tristan?"
"We need to get into the Gala," Tristan replied. "It's convenient we ran into you."
Myrella nodded. "That makes things easier. We still have a little time until guests start arriving, so we can throw together something for the three of you as well and go as a team. Safety in numbers and all that."
Hm. Perhaps she wasn't such a snake after all.
"That's very generous of you," Tristan said with a warm smile. "Are you sure? We couldn't impose."
Myrella laughed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, you mean more than you already have?"
She must have caught my stony expression, because she winked and waved a hand. "Oh, I'm joking. Lighten up!"
I huffed. Easy for her to say, but if it helped us get this thing done...I'd go with it.
"But yes," Zion said, linking her arms with Myrella's. "It's but a small payment for everything you went through."
James, who hadn't spoken up in ages, nudged me in the side and tilted his head toward the door. He did the same with Tristan.
"Would you mind giving us a moment?" Tristan asked. Myrella and Zion nodded in tandem.
"Go on. We can attend to things in the back room if you need some privacy."
As soon as we were out of earshot, James let us have it.
"Do you believe her?"
That was the million dollar question, wasn't it?
"I'm not sure," I said at last. "I want to say yes, especially if she really did know Tristan in the past and wants to help. We need to be careful, though."
"I know," Tristan agreed. "But it's her. I'm sure of it."
I shook my head. The nagging feeling in my gut wouldn't go away, and I would regret it if I didn't say anything. "Don't you think this is all a little too good to be true? You said yourself that people are two-faced here. It's practically a way of life. What if she's just telling you what you want to hear? What if she's still spying for your parents and is going to alert them that you're here?"
