by Fleur Smith
“We saved lives.”
“He used us!”
“You can’t know that.”
Clay tipped his head backwards and groaned in frustration. “God, you would take his side, just like you always do. Freaking golden-haired boy can do no wrong.”
“I’m not taking anyone’s side, Clay. If anything, I’ve been on yours more times than not lately. I’m just saying . . . God, I don’t know. Give me a few minutes to work through this, will you? I mean, could Dad really be that callous? Whatever else has happened, Dad still loves us. You have to believe that much at least.”
It seemed like Clay was going to argue, but I silenced him by placing my hand on his arm and shaking my head. His own reaction to the news had not been entirely dissimilar to Ethan’s. If anything, Ethan was much calmer and more willing to consider the possibilities at the very least. Given some time, he would come to his own conclusions regardless of whether or not they matched Clay’s. There was nothing to be gained by talking in circles about what their father might or might not have done—especially when there was an innocent life on the line.
“How long have you known about this anyway?” Ethan said after a moment. “I mean you’ve had enough time to get back to the States. You couldn’t have called me sooner?”
“We only found out last night,” Clay replied sharply, leaning back against the tree with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“When did you come back to the States then? And why?” It was apparent he was asking a deeper question—why hadn’t Clay let him know we were home.
The question caused a spike in Clay’s irritation. “We only got back last night.”
“Well, how’d you get here so damned quickly?”
“We’ll explain that later.” I tried to calm the situation, knowing it was time to broach the subject of Mackenzie. “Your mother came to us for a reason.”
Ethan’s focus fell to me, and he grunted something that sounded like a request to continue.
“She needs our help. Well, yours and Clay’s specifically. She has a daughter who was recently taken by the Rain.”
Ethan’s eyebrow lifted in surprise. “I have another sister?”
I was surprised at his use of the word. In all of the discussions with Fiona about Mackenzie, Clay had only ever referred to her by name or as Fiona’s daughter. Added to his initial reaction, it made me more hopeful that Ethan might be a little more accepting of his fae heritage. He might have even been able to help Clay accept it.
“She’s not our sister,” Clay said as his anger propelled him away from the tree again.
Ethan’s brow pinched together with confusion. “If she’s our mother’s daughter then she’s our half-sister at least.”
Clay breathed heavily through his nose as he tried to calm his anger, unable to argue because his brother was right.
“Would you like to see your mother?” I asked Ethan.
“Yes!” The word was like a knee-jerk reaction, out before he could stop himself. A moment later, he let out a low whistle. “I mean. I don’t know, I guess. I want to, but it’s a lot to take in, you know? Maybe we can set up a meeting soon?”
“You can see her now, if you’re ready?” I prompted. Fiona knew where we were, and who we were with, and wanted nothing more than for us to return with him at our side. “She really wants to meet with you.
“Now? Is she here?” His eyes scanned the scattered passersby, as if searching for the honey-colored curls of his mom’s hair.
“Yes and no,” I said. “You’ll need a little help to see her.”
“Help? What sort of help?”
“You’ll have to have something enchanted. It’s the only way to join their world.”
Ethan seemed unsurprised. Obviously it wasn’t all entirely new information to him.
“It might be uncomfortable,” I warned.
“That’s more warning than I got,” Clay grumbled.
I sighed. He would bring that up. “I didn’t know that it would do that to you then, did I?”
Ethan chuckled at us. “You two must have been really busy getting to know each other during the last eight months; you sound like an old married couple already.”
Ignoring the comment, I offered Ethan the candy I’d brought with me with the hope that things would go the way they seemed to be going.
“It’ll hurt like a bitch,” Clay warned.
“Only because you are a bitch,” Ethan joked as he grabbed the candy and popped it into his mouth.
I waited to see what would happen, but he didn’t seem to have any reaction to the enchantment at all. After a moment, he winced, and I could see the confusion cross his face, which I recognized from my own experiences with enchanted foods. He didn’t appear to have any pain, and his eyes didn’t gain the iridescent blue ring that Clay’s had developed. I also noticed that his aura still wasn’t as strong as Clay’s, nor did it burst brighter after consuming the enchantment.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I feel a little sick,” Ethan groaned as he swallowed heavily.
Looking back over my shoulder, I pointed at the court. “Can you see a building there?”
He nodded as he grew decidedly green around the gills.
“Concentrate on the building,” Clay said. “It’ll make it easier if you focus on the fae world.”
“This is some trippy shit!” Ethan chuckled eventually.
I took his statement to mean he was comfortable enough with the shift to head to the court. “Let’s go meet Fiona,” I said.
Both Ethan and Clay agreed so we headed toward the fae building.
“Why didn’t he get the pain?” Clay asked me quietly as we walked a few feet behind Ethan.
“I don’t know, but you have a stronger aura too. I think something happened to you when you had the enchantment. Your eyes . . . Well, they changed.”
“What do you mean?”
His question confused me at first, but it occurred to me I’d never told him about it—it had been the lowest item on my priority list. “I guess I forgot to mention it to you with everything else that’s been happening,” I said. “But your eyes are now just a little bit blue.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Seriously?”
“Would I lie to you?”
“Strange. I wonder why that is?”
“Maybe he isn’t as fae as you are?” I guessed. “You did share a womb with Louise, after all. And from what I can gather from Fiona’s story, she was almost completely fae.”
He glanced away from me. When he met my gaze again, his expression was thoughtful. “Maybe.”
“He seems okay with all of this.” I inclined my head in Ethan’s direction.
Clay clenched his jaw. “I’m sure he is.”
“Are you?”
He shrugged. “It’s all still so surreal.”
“I know,” I said. “But I’m here for you, don’t ever forget that.”
“Forget you?” He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “That would be impossible.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“IF THEY’VE TAKEN her alive they would have taken her to Hell,” Ethan said.
“What’s Hell?” I asked after seeing the dismal faces around me. It was as if I was missing a vital piece of the puzzle that everyone else already had.
“The Rain headquarters in New York is down in Chelsea, near Hell’s Kitchen,” Clay explained. “There used to be a running joke that any creatures taken there were being sent to Hell.”
Ethan’s initial meeting with Fiona had gone better than any of us could have hoped for, probably because he was old enough to remember her when she’d left. He’d recognized her almost immediately, even down to the sound of her voice. With Clay and me backing up her word, he didn’t accuse her of being a doppelganger like Clay had. In fact, he was so accepting that Fiona seemed more comfortable around him almost instantly. Then again, it only made sense—it was easier to relax when not threatened with an axe.
“Where do you think she’d be in Bayview?” Clay asked.
“What’s Bayview?” I asked, feeling like I was still on a different page to everyone else.
“It’s a prison,” Clay said.
“Not anymore,” Ethan corrected. “It’s the Bayview Hotel now.”
“Since when?” Clay asked.
“A few years ago.” After answering his brother, his focus shifted to me, the only one in the room who didn’t know all the details. “It’s the latest front for the Rain. For years, it was a prison that accepted all sorts of nonhuman prisoners alongside the regular ones. The prisoners were ones who needed restraining until they could be interrogated or killed. Some creatures are extraordinarily difficult to destroy, and it can take days or even weeks to find their weaknesses. Others are so unique, we need to find out what—” He stopped when he saw my horror-struck expression.
A shudder raced through me. That could have been me.
Clay had said the Rain had tried to kidnap me when I was young. Kidnap, not kill. I could only imagine the tortures they would have subjected me to had they succeeded. I said another silent thank you to Dad for spending so much of his life trying to keep me out of their hands.
Ethan directed his attention away from me and toward the rest of the group. “Running the prisons and keeping the external teams on the road was extraordinarily expensive. For years, the Rain received government grants and private donations, which, combined with training us field agents in credit card fraud and other money gathering techniques, were enough to fund everything. These days, people don’t believe in monsters, so they’re not willing to help finance the protection of the human race. That and with the failing economy, the government doesn’t have the black holes available to siphon money our way like they have in the past.
“The same issues happened all across the world, and for a while it looked like we would have to stop doing the good we do. That was, until a few years ago, when one of the bean counters realized that we had a way to make money right under our noses. They’ve been slowly reconfiguring our prisons and converting them into part luxurious five-star hotels, part prison ever since. The first ones were in Europe, as a trial run, but they were such a success it’s been implemented all over now. The tourists lap up the “historical” angle of sleeping in an old prison, even paying a premium for it, and we get to keep a few key rooms on selected floors as holding cells. It was a win-win. In the end, it provided us with enough money to fund anything we needed, including actually increasing our presence worldwide.”
“And no one notices the prisoners coming and going?” I asked, feeling a little dubious that they could sneak a creature like the wendigo into a luxury hotel without someone noticing.
“They usually get taken up via service elevators but they never leave,” Ethan said. “At least, not alive. Or whole.”
Fiona gave a sharp intake of breath, and Clay tensed and shifted in his seat beside me. Aiden’s gaze cut to me, as if to assess my reaction.
The implications of Ethan’s words seeped through my mind and my hands caused the material on the arm of Fiona’s couch to start smoking. I lifted my hand away quickly, casting her an apologetic grimace, but she simply shook her head, gesturing not to worry about the damage.
Ethan shrugged. “There is nowhere else they would have the protections they need to keep her in and possible rescuers out.”
Clay laid his hand on my knee. “You don’t have to come with us; Eth and I can handle it alone.”
“No way,” I said.
“Don’t even think about it,” Aiden said angrily at the same time. “Mackenzie is our family; we’re going to be there to help you too.”
“You can’t,” Ethan said. “The whole place is set up with anti-fae protections. They were built into the prison bars and most of them were kept when it was converted into a hotel. In addition to the measures built in by our forefathers, there is also a range of sophisticated equipment that constantly scans for nonhuman indicators. To be honest, I don’t even think you’ll be able to come, Evie.”
“I’m not letting you two go into that place alone.”
“Us either,” Aiden said. “Surely there must be some way of getting us in?”
“In theory, we might be able to knock out or neutralize a few of the defenses along the way,” Ethan rationalized. “Maybe even enough to get you into the secure areas, but we won’t know exactly what we’re dealing with until we’re inside. I haven’t been to Bayview in at least six months.”
“How have the defenses changed?” Clay asked.
“Some parts haven’t. The iron bars are still in place; they’ve even worked them into the design of most of the rooms.”
“Iron could prove to be problematic,” Aiden surmised.
“Iron? Why would that be problematic?” I asked.
“It is a repellant of sorts for fae,” Aiden explained, leaning forward to address me directly. His eyes burned into mine as he spoke. “In very small doses, it causes us little more concern than a slight discomfort. However, in cases where there is a significant quantity forged together, as there is certain to be considering who designed it and that it is a defensive structure, it can cause severe agony. In fact, it can be so deathly painful to try to move past a structure of iron that it will physically stop us from even passing through a doorway. The use of amethyst, obsidian crystals, and a vanilla scent can counter it though. The task will be difficult, but with some assistance, we should be able to penetrate those defenses. What other protections are potentially in place?”
While Aiden was talking, Clay’s eyes slid between Aiden and me, his brow scrunching into a concerned expression. When I met his eye, he glanced away with disgust twisting his mouth and left me feeling confused about the exchange.
“In the Rain-secured areas, every staircase, hallway, and doorway has an anti-fae symbol etched throughout it, among the myriad of other symbols,” Ethan added.
“That may prove to be a little more difficult,” Aiden mused. “However, if the symbols can be broken they should be rendered ineffective, or at least enough that we may pass.”
“The trouble will be trying to set the crystals and break the symbols without drawing any attention to ourselves,” Clay said, shaking himself free of whatever had concerned him moments earlier. “Eth and I can pass through easier without having to do all of that.”
“But how will you get Mackenzie back out?” I challenged.
“The thing is, that’s just the start of the protections,” Ethan said. “The Rain isn’t stupid. A whole team of handpicked security and mythology experts designed the electronics in the building. Not only are the hallways and lobbies set with cameras, but all of the publicly accessed areas are filled with infrared thermal imaging cameras, EMF monitors, and digital voice recorders, plus the video is looped through facial recognition software.”
“Isn’t there any way to get around those?” I asked. I could already see my heat being an issue trying to get past the security system. Clay had been able to track me through the software once before, and although I hoped my disguise might be able to trick it, there was no way of knowing until I was actually inside and exposed to the risk.
Not going wasn’t even a consideration.
My mind spun with the minimal information I had about what the Rain had done to Clay after he’d left me in Charlotte—subjecting him to physical and mental torture to try to firm up his alliance to their cause. If that’s what they did when he returned willingly, what might they do if they caught him trying to break a fae prisoner out of their headquarters?
There was no way I could let Clay out of my sight
to walk back into their hold, not again. Not if I could help it.
I wouldn’t risk us being torn apart again. I wouldn’t survive it, and I didn’t want to try. Better to die at the hands of the enemy than to suffer another—possibly final—separation.
“The guest floors of the hotel aren’t quite as covered as the public or secured areas, or at least they weren’t,” Ethan said. “If you can get through the lobby, you’re halfway there.”
“I think we need to do some serious planning if we’re going to pull this off,” Clay said quietly, finally realizing that I wasn’t going to back down.
Ethan rubbed his hands together gleefully. “All right! Now, when do we do this?”
I was starting to understand that I’d been so wrong with my first assessment of him in Salem. It wasn’t the hunt, or even the killing, that thrilled him. It was the action. He was, for lack of a better definition, an adrenaline junkie. The way Clay had been rapt and attentive while Ethan had been talking about his past few months earlier made me think that maybe Clay was too.
“It has to be soon,” Fiona said. She’d sat silently throughout our conversation and, aside from our quiet encounter, it had almost been easy to forget she was still there.
“We’ll need time for the enchantments to wear off,” I said. It was reasonable to make the assumption that given the enchantments opened up the benefits of the fae world they could just as easily render someone susceptible to the disadvantages. “At least, I’m assuming we’ll be vulnerable to all anti-fae symbols until it does?”
“It would be best for you to find alternate sleeping arrangements until after the rescue. Ethan, if you are amenable we should take time to run through the potential anti-fae protections. I will provide you with details of any counters I have knowledge of and show you how best to break the symbols.”
Ethan nodded. “Fine by me.”
“Evie and I will find a hotel room for tonight,” Clay said.
Ethan tossed him a phone. “That’s a spare with my number already programmed in. Call me with the details once it’s sorted, and I’ll meet you guys there. While you’re at it, can you guys sort out how Evie will get past the heat sensors? That get-up should trick the cameras, her cheekbones seem higher.”
