by Fleur Smith
The fact that he'd paid enough attention to my cheekbones before to notice the difference threw me momentarily. Recovering quickly, I agreed to the task.
“Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll meet outside the Bayview and launch our attack,” Clay said, his voice a little unenthusiastic considering how desperate he’d been to get into the Rain the night before.
Aiden shook his head. “We will not meet you there. We shall be there tomorrow afternoon, but we will remain on the ethereal plane until the last possible instant. I do not wish to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves and risk the plan going awry.”
“Okay,” Ethan replied. “That sounds like a better plan. After we eliminate the protections, you’ll have to be quick though. I’m not sure how much time we’ll be able to buy.”
“Understood.”
“I will be attending as well,” Fiona interjected in a tone that left little room for argument.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Ethan argued anyway with a shake of his head.
“I can be of some assistance,” she insisted.
“My queen, you are too emotionally invested in this rescue—I do not mean to imply that you would be a hindrance . . .” Aiden added.
“Remember to whom you are speaking, Aiden. Do not mistake me for a dotard on a throne. I was not always a ruler; I was once a protector. I do know how to wield a weapon and will not hesitate to do so if I am required.” Fiona stood to her full height while she was talking and the lights of the room appeared to bend around her aura. Her stance, and the harsh edge to her voice, demonstrated that, despite her years sitting as a regent, she was still strong, and still able to instill fear in those around her. “She is my daughter. I refuse to stand idly by when I am able-bodied.”
Aiden appeared more than a tiny bit scared of her as he agreed. “Then it is decided. On the morrow, Fiona, myself, and three of our best soldiers will wait on the ethereal plane to provide assistance.”
Ethan stared at Fiona with a newfound awe. It was clear that the siblings’ protective instincts and hunting ability didn’t only come from their father. “Bad ass,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “Let’s do this.”
Even though he had a reluctant expression on his face, Clay nodded his acceptance of her inclusion in the rescue effort. “Good luck.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WE SAID OUR goodbyes and headed out of the court. Clay seemed to be in a particular rush to leave. Almost as soon as we reached the street, he was hailing a cab. He rattled off an address in Chelsea, and we were soon on our way.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. The question, “Where are we going?” burned through me too, but it seemed more important to find out the reason behind his apparent agitation.
“I don’t like feeling so out of control,” he muttered. “There’s just so much going on. Choices I made years ago are now coming back around to bite me.”
The glare he’d given me while Aiden was talking became clearer. “Is this about the history I have with Aiden?” I asked to clarify.
“Yes. No. I accept that I walked away and that you were with someone else, but seeing the rapt attention you were giving him in there burned me more than I would’ve expected it to.”
I placed my hand on his knee and gave him a smile. “I’ve told you, I can’t apologize for my past. If I’d have known he was your cousin, obviously things would’ve been different.”
Clay’s face screwed up in disgust. “I didn’t even think of that.”
I chuckled. “It’s probably better if we don’t. It’s in the past. All he is now is a source of information, and maybe a friend.”
He scrubbed his face. “That's the thing. I know that. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, that there’s nothing to be jealous of, but it’s just another reminder of how much I fucked up.”
“No,” I said, giving his forearm a light squeeze. “You made the choices that you thought were right at the time.” I echoed the words he’d used to reassure Fiona the night before.
“It’s not just that though. There was a time when I would have known as much about Bayview and the Rain as Eth does, but now I just feel so out of the loop, so useless.”
My stomach twisted into a knot. I was the one responsible for his alienation. If it hadn’t been for me, he’d be with Ethan, getting his own adrenaline rush. He seemed to sense the shift in my mood and reached for my hand.
“Sorry, I didn’t think about how that might sound. I don’t regret you, or my choices,” he said quietly. “I’m glad I spent the time to put my mind at ease about what you are. I wouldn’t give you up for the world. I just hate being so useless.”
“You’re not useless,” I said. “You’re going to be vital to rescuing Mackenzie.”
He scrubbed his face. “I guess.”
“No guessing. I’ve seen you and Ethan together, and there’s no denying you make a good team. Regardless of the time since your last fight, you fall right back into your training the moment you’re in the fray,” I encouraged. “Besides, if you hadn’t trained me so well in self-defense, I wouldn’t even consider going.”
“I still don’t think you should,” he said, raising his hands defensively at the warning glare I gave him. “Just hear me out, please?”
I indicated that he should go on, but flashed him a warning with my eyes that he had better have a good reason this time.
“You’ve been training almost daily for a little over seven months, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, some members of the Rain have trained every day since they learned to walk. Even with how quickly you’ve picked it up, do you really think you’re a match for that kind of rigorous discipline?”
He seemed to be forgetting one vital element, and I knew exactly how to remind him of it. Pretending to think over his question, I played with his sleeve, slowly rolling it up and running my fingers seductively along his arm. Then, as if I were attempting to get him to rub my thigh, I moved his hand to my leg and wrapped my fingers around his forearm.
Concentrating hard, I slowly but steadily increased the temperature in the tips of my fingers until the smell of singed hair filled the cab.
When the heat registered, he gave a little yelp and yanked his arm away. An instant later, he rolled the sleeve down to cover it again.
“Okay, okay, point taken,” he said, before waving off the suspicious glance the driver had given us. He rubbed his arm absently for a moment before laughing. “You really are trouble, aren’t you?”
Letting the heat dissipate from my touch, I rested my hand back on his arm.
“Maybe.” I grinned. “But the best kind.”
His laughter reveberated through the car.
“Feeling better?” I asked.
“A bit, yeah.”
“Okay, good, then can you tell me where the hell we’re going?”
“To the Gansevoort Hotel. I stayed there when I was last at Bayview, just after Detroit.” The word hung awkwardly between us as we both reflected on the pain we’d suffered as a result of our reunion there. “I’m hoping that since the prison is now a hotel, any Rain associates will stay there and the Gansevoort will be safe. It’s a little bit of luxury, but given what’s going down tomorrow that’s not a bad thing.”
“If you knew that was where we’d be going, then why didn’t you just tell Ethan rather than agreeing to call him?”
His lips tipped up into a salacious grin. “Because hunting for a hotel is a good excuse to spend some time alone with my girl. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity, especially with . . . tomorrow.”
“Your girl? So what time are you meeting her then?” I teased, twisting in my seat and lifting one leg onto his lap. “Do we have some time for a bit of fun first?”
He ran his hand along the seam of my moleskin pants and caressed my calf before humming. “Always.”
The last ten minutes in the cab dragged on forever. By the time we arrived at the Gansevoort, Clay practically threw the money at th
e driver and yanked me from the vehicle. While we waited for the clerk at the check-in desk of the hotel, we were acting like a newlywed couple.
When I spoke with the clerk about the room, Clay stood behind me, brushing the locks of my blonde wig out of the way so that his lips could trace inappropriate trails across my neck and shoulders. His touch caused my stomach to twist in the best possible way, and I wanted to be in a hotel room already. I focused so completely on Clay’s mouth and the attention he was lavishing against my skin that I totally forgot we needed a second bed.
Luckily for Ethan, Clay was a little more focused on the type of room we needed.
“Don’t forget my brother will be joining us,” he murmured against my shoulder, just loud enough for the desk clerk to hear. “You want the Deluxe Double, remember.”
Neither Clay nor I saw the double meaning behind his words until the clerk’s eyes widened and he paid much closer attention to the computer in front of him. Once it occurred to Clay what his words had implied, he chuckled quietly behind me.
I elbowed him lightly in the ribs before shushing him and waiting for the beet-red clerk to finish the booking process. When he had, Clay handed him a credit card and ID. The instant Clay’s card had been processed I snatched up the room key. Turning from the counter, I dragged Clay toward the elevators, giggling the whole way.
“I can’t believe you said that,” I said as he wrapped his arms around me when we were alone in the elevator. “The poor guy was positively scandalized.”
Clay laughed loudly. “No doubt it was only because he wasn’t asked to join as well.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” He backed away from me to the other side of the elevator. “I’m hurt.”
“Sure you are,” I said as I paced across the space and entwined my fingers in his, pinning the back of his hands against the mirrored elevator wall.
“Positively,” he kissed the side of my neck, “devastatingly,” he nibbled my earlobe, “wounded,” he murmured as he captured my lips.
“I bet,” I muttered into his mouth.
The way his body sought out mine as our lips met told me that there was no way he was letting his brother know we had a hotel room any time soon.
“CHECK THIS out,” Clay said, pointing at the computer screen. After settling into our room, we eventually let Ethan know the hotel and room number. I’d taken a moment to touch-up my disguise before heading back down to the front desk to get directions to the nearest Internet café—the concierge had suggested we use the hotel business center, but we refused, wanting to be sure that if our searches triggered any Rain flags, we were far enough away from the fallout.
Less than fifteen minutes of research later, we had a list of suggestions for masking my heat from the infrared imaging equipment. Of course, being that it was information gathered from the Internet we could only guess at the accuracy. We couldn’t know anything for certain until it was too late to back away.
“Do you think it could work?” I asked.
One of the websites he’d found listed something that had come up on a few others as well. Glass. A simple sheet of glass between the camera and the subject seemed to render the IR imaging useless. The problem was we didn’t know enough about the location of the sensors to be certain we could even attempt the simple deception.
“Eth or I would have to go in first and set a small sheet in front of the cameras, and we’d probably only have a very limited time before security discovered it was in place, but in theory it might be enough time to get you into the hotel.”
“That’s assuming they’re not on the ceiling.”
His mouth twisted. “Or high on the walls.”
“And that you can find somewhere to attach the glass.”
“Maybe we should keep looking,” he said.
We continued our search and jotted down all of the possible techniques we came across. None sounded as simple or as potentially effective as the sheet of glass, but at least it gave us a few alternatives in case it was impossible.
“What about getting out?” I asked the question that no one had yet voiced.
“I don’t think that your heat setting off the sensors will be our biggest concern when it comes time to leave.”
“True.”
“We need to organize a plan for getting in with Eth when he gets back with the information from the fae, but I think one thing is clear. The easiest way to get you in will be as a guest. I don’t think our trick with the airport security will work here; they’re too clever, and they know me too well. They’ll be watching my interactions closely. I don’t think they’ll watch you as closely if you’re a registered visitor to the hotel as they would if we tried to pass you off as an overseas operative or something to that effect.”
“Okay, well that should be fairly easy. I’ll just use this disguise.”
“I don’t think it will hurt to get you a suitcase full of outfits to blend with that set. I looked up the Bayview Hotel’s website, and it’s a pretty classy hotel.”
“Are you saying I’m not classy?” I asked with a wry smile and raised eyebrow.
“I wouldn’t dare. But are you up for a makeover?”
“An all-expenses-paid shopping trip on what could be my last day on Earth? Sure, why not?”
“Don’t talk like that,” he snapped.
“Why not?” I asked, slightly taken aback.
“Because it just might be,” he seethed through clenched teeth.
“I know.” I didn’t want him to think I was taking anything lightly. I was well aware of the risks, but I was willing to do it anyway. Truthfully, I even had some doubts over whether my assistance would ultimately be a help or a hindrance, but I had no choice but to try. If I had to wait impatiently at our hotel room or at the court for Clay to come back, I would go crazy. Besides, as Ethan had once said, I had a talent that could come in handy in a tight spot.
“Are you sure—” Clay began, but I interrupted him.
“If you ask me whether or not I’m sure I should be there tomorrow, I might actually scream. So long as you’re going, I’m going to be there with you.”
He sighed with resignation. “Let’s go get you dressed for the part then.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
AFTER OUR SHOPPING trip, we met Ethan in front of the Gansevoort Hotel with a handful of shopping bags each and a brand spanking new suitcase. We led him up to the room before we talked shop.
“So what were you able to work out with Aiden?” I asked.
Ethan ran through the bags of supplies he and Aiden had purchased, going through each of their uses to counter the anti-fae protections that Ethan knew were in play at Bayview. There were crystals in an array of colors and shapes, incense in a range of scents, as well as some rowan wood talismans and fae court flags.
I was amazed they’d been able to amass such a collection so quickly and commented on it.
His toothy grin in response told me the compliment was more than welcome. “It’s easy when you know where to look.”
After Ethan described the items he’d gathered and all of their uses. He explained how they’d fit into the plan that he and Aiden had strategized over. Then Ethan ran through the different levels of Rain operatives we might encounter. Clay chipped in where he could with the various symbols each level might wear.
“Have you got all that?” Ethan asked me once they’d gone through it all.
“I think so.” I paused for a moment to make sure it made sense in my mind before reciting the list back. “The raindrop pin means that they know about others, but that they’re not actually part of the Rain. A normal operative might have the Rain symbol displayed on them somewhere. An Assessor will have a rune that looks a little like an F somewhere on them, like a watch or on a pendant. An Elite will likely have something with the dove on it,” I touched the pendant around my neck as I said the word, “but it might not be on display.”
“There shouldn’t be too many Elite
s there though,” Clay assured me, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. When I glanced up at him, he seemed to be biting back a new plea for me to stay away. He glanced away from me after our eyes met. “Abe for sure. Ben maybe. At least, if he’s not on assignment.”
“And us,” Ethan added.
Clay’s mouth screwed up, and he rolled his eyes. I could see the direction of his thoughts even though he didn’t voice them. Being an Elite meant nothing in light of the revelations about their heritage on their mother’s side.
I pressed on in an attempt to end the awkward moment. “Most importantly, I should assume everyone is an operative unless I know for certain they’re not.”
Ethan grinned at me. “And you’ve got your cover all set?”
Swallowing down my nerves, I tried out a few words in a Swedish accent.
Ethan nodded along in response to my attempt. “Not quite perfect, but I think it’ll do.”
Without pause, the conversation moved on to the next part of the plan. We were so completely engrossed in our planning session that when Ethan’s phone rang, it startled us all. He checked it and muttered a quiet, “Oh shit.”
“What?” Clay asked.
“It’s Dad. Just . . . stay quiet.” He flipped the phone open. “Hey, Dad.”
My heart hammered against my chest thinking that on the other end of the open phone line was the man responsible for causing untold damage to both his family and mine. Clay’s hand closed around mine, and his eyes echoed the same concerns.
“Down in New York,” Ethan answered the unheard question. “I found out Abe’s got some fae chick that’s causing him trouble, so I thought I’d see if I can help.”
A sickening feeling rose up in my throat at the bit of truth in his statement. The best lie was often one made up by partial truths, but to hear him be so casual about it—making it clear it was something he could have done in the past—reminded me of the way things had been until only fairly recently. The way things still were for their father and sister.
