“I came to see you, of course,” he says, letting the plastic fall back into place.

“You could see me at the suite.”

“I did see you,” he says, scanning the shop. His lips pinch together as if the disorder and dinginess disgust him. Heaven forbid he get a smudge on his pristine white shirt. He’s wearing it under a brown vest, which I think is made from jaedric, though it’s not as thick as the jaedric in a fae’s armor. The scabbard holding his sword on his left hip is darker than the vest; so is the messenger-style satchel that’s slung over his shoulder. “I saw you right before the metal doors locked you inside the…the moving box.”

“Elevator,” I say. He saw me get into the elevator. He must have fissured into the suite when I was in the hallway; I was just too distracted chasing after Sosch to notice. “What do you want, Lorn?”

He manages to look offended. “What makes you think I want anything? Maybe I just want to visit with my favorite shadow-reader.”

I meet his eyes, wait. Everything is a game to Lorn. The problem is, you never know if you’re competing with him or against him, especially now. He has—had—a life-bond with Kelia. Lena and Aren think that’s the only reason he provided them with supplies and information while they fought against the king, but I’m not so sure about that. I think Kelia was more of a convenient excuse for him to help them. He’s more involved with the rebels than he has to be. In fact, after Sethan was killed, he was the first person to speak up and suggest that making Lena queen wasn’t a bad idea.

When he doesn’t give up the charade and tell me why he’s really here, I say, “Take Sosch back to the Realm. It’s not safe for him to be here.”

I make my way back to the door to the alley. It has a window in it. I didn’t realize it before because it’s covered in such a thick layer of grime. I reach for the handle.

“I need you to shadow-read, McKenzie,” Lorn finally says.

I look over my shoulder. “You came to my world just to ask me that? You could have found me in the palace.”

“I could have,” he agrees, clasping his hands behind his back as he walks to the checkout counter. “But Lena and I have had a…disagreement. I’m not welcome in the palace at the moment.”

That doesn’t surprise me at all. Lorn hasn’t exactly been forthcoming with information since the rebels took over the capital.

“What did you do?” I ask.

“It’s insignificant,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “How long will it take you to get to the gate?”

“I haven’t agreed to help you yet,” I say, turning to face him fully. I shouldn’t even consider it. I already have too many responsibilities: a friend I need to find, a watch rotation I shouldn’t skip out on, and a job I need to finish applying for. I don’t have time to shadow-read for Lorn.

“You will.” The corner of his mouth slants up into a smug smile that gets under my skin.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I can’t help you.”

“Oh, I think you can.” He sounds so pleased with himself that I’m about to turn and leave just to spite him, but before I do, he adds, “Rumor has it a friend of yours is missing.”

My blood runs cold. He knows about Paige? How? I only learned she was missing yesterday.

“You know where she is,” I say.

His smile widens. “I’ll give you her location after you shadow-read for me.”

I should have contacted him as soon as I learned Paige was missing. He has resources—spies, if I want to be accurate—everywhere. He probably knows more about what’s going on in the Realm than Lena does, but still, I’m not sure if making a deal with him is the wisest thing to do, not without consulting Aren first.

“Must I remind you that you owe me?” A bolt of blue lightning slashes across his face, drawing attention to the circles under his eyes. They’re not dark—I didn’t notice them before the chaos luster—but they don’t belong there. He’s tired, and even though there isn’t any active tech in this room, I’m sure it’s not the most comfortable place for a fae. He probably has one hell of a headache.

“I’m aware of that,” I say, staring at the plastic-covered window. Lorn saved my life in a tavern in Belecha, and he paid for the Vegas suite until Shane took over the bill a few days ago. The high nobles haven’t allowed Lena access to the palace’s treasury, and Shane has an extremely large rainy-day fund because he demanded a ridiculous amount of money from the king for his services. I hate being in anyone’s debt, so the opportunity to make things even with Lorn is tempting. Plus, to some degree, I trust him. He acts like he’s concerned only about information and profit, but he cared about Kelia. Her death and the loss of the life-bond have affected him more than he lets on.

I study Lorn. No one’s been forthcoming with the details of that bond. As far as I know, Kelia and Lorn never loved each other. They bonded because they were a good match, and the connection made their magic stronger. Now that she’s dead…?

I want to help Lorn. It’ll probably push my meeting with Jenkins to tomorrow, since I’m on the watch rotation at the palace later, but he won’t leave the office until 5 P.M. I’ll have all day to get there.

And I need to find Paige. If Lorn knows where she is, I have to help him.

“Who do you want me to track?” I ask, hoping this isn’t a mistake.

He smiles. “Her name is Aylen. She’s an associate of an associate.”

“What do you want with her?”

“Just to talk,” he says smoothly. “I’ll meet you at the gate, shadow-reader.”

“Wait,” I say, as he opens a fissure. “We only have an agreement if you take Sosch with you.”

“Sosch?” He stares at the kimki, who’s sniffing at an exposed pipe in the wall.

“I can’t keep carrying him through the city.”

“He’s not my kimki.”

“He’s not mine, either.”

Lorn raises an eyebrow. “Really? Then why did you chase after him?”

I scowl back. “Just take him with you, Lorn.”

“He’s free to use my fissure if he wants to leave,” he says, opening a slash of light between him and Sosch.

Sosch glances at Lorn, then returns to sniffing the pipe. I roll my eyes as I walk to the kimki. His fur turns silver when I pick him up, but by the time I place him in Lorn’s arms, he’s stark white again. I don’t think he’s too pleased with this arrangement, either.

“Take him with you,” I say again, ignoring Lorn’s overly dramatic sigh.

It takes more than an hour to get to the gate. That’s mainly because I took a detour to buy a pair of socks and sneakers from Payless. I put them on after scrubbing my feet in the restroom sink, but they’re still sore and a little black from walking on the hot concrete.

The bus driver questions me when I ask him to stop. He’s the third driver this week I’ve had to convince to drop me off here, a good distance off the bus’s actual route. We’re twenty minutes outside the city, and there’s not a building in sight. That works for me, though. I hate trying to fissure when humans are around.