The Shattered Dark Page 36


Good for her, I think. Out loud, I say, “We’ll be fine in an apartment.”

“You’ll be fine in an apartment. Not me. I need space.”

“Get a job,” I tell him. Then, I curse.

A job. That’s exactly what I’m supposed to be getting.

“What day is it?” Damn it, I don’t even know where my driver’s license and Social Security card are now. If they survived my dip in Rhigh’s river, they’re in my old jeans.

“In Vegas? Thursday afternoon, I think,” he says. “Why? You have a date?”

That leaves me around twenty-four hours to meet with Jenkins and finish my paperwork. If everything goes smoothly, it’s doable, and I want that job. I need to feel like a normal human every once in a while—I can’t live and breathe war twenty-four/seven—but finding Paige and making sure she’s okay is more important than that. Way more important.

“It’s nothing,” I tell Shane. If I can’t make it to Jenkins’s office by five tomorrow, I’ll just have to convince him I had a crisis that couldn’t be avoided.

Shane doesn’t have a chance to press the issue. Trev steps into the antechamber. He’s raided the king’s stockpile of human clothing, too, and is wearing khaki pants and a sweater loose enough to hide a good-sized dagger underneath. Since we’re going to a city with a dense population, there’s too much of a chance that someone would bump into the fae if they were invisible, so I insisted our escorts allow the humans to see them. Their chaos lusters will still be invisible to anyone who doesn’t have the Sight, and as long as no more than two or three fae are visible at once, people tend to overlook their otherness. They don’t notice their silver eyes or their slightly exotic faces.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me again,” I say to Trev.

“Not exactly.” He gives me a half smile, and I swear that’s the first time I’ve seen him do anything but frown. He steps farther into the antechamber, making room for…

Aren. I keep my face expressionless as he approaches. It’s not easy, though, and not just because I feel like a teenager caught sneaking out at night. Aren, too, is dressed in human clothing. The only time I haven’t seen him in fae garb was when he wore a suit to Paige’s sister’s wedding. He was gorgeous then. He’s gorgeous now even though he’s just wearing a pair of relaxed-fit jeans and a simple, black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He won’t blend in on Earth. He’ll draw attention from every woman around.

It takes me a second to find my voice. “Shouldn’t you be meeting with the high nobles?”

“I should be,” he acknowledges. “But I’m not letting you walk into a trap.”

If his clothing wasn’t a clue that he knows exactly what I’m doing, that statement certainly is. Someone told him about London. Who? Not Lena. If she was against me going after Paige, she didn’t have to tell me about the tip in the first place.

“The remnants might not be there,” I say. I feel my eyes narrow as I look at Trev. He doesn’t like me. He was almost killed back at my apartment, and I know he wasn’t thrilled to be tasked with picking me up in Nashville. Plus, he and Aren are friends. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ratted me out.

“Paige might not be there,” Aren counters, taking a step forward. “And don’t blame Trev, nalkin-shom. I made Lena tell me what was going on.”

Lena did cave? I know Aren can be persuasive, but, seriously, she’s supposed to be the ruler of the Realm. He’s supposed to cave to her wishes, not the other way around.

“I’m going,” I tell him. “I don’t know how the remnants have treated Paige. She might be hurt. She might think she’s—”

“I’m not trying to talk you out of going, McKenzie,” he interrupts, holding out his hand. I stare at it while his words sink in. Sometimes I forget he’s not like Kyol. He doesn’t decide what I should and shouldn’t do. He lets me choose. He supports me; he doesn’t control me.

And that’s one of the reasons why I’m taking a chance on him. He doesn’t put me inside a padded box to protect me. He gives me my freedom. He lets me be me.

I take his hand. His grip is strong, comforting.

“Shouldn’t you stay for the meeting?” I ask, needing to make sure it’s okay if he leaves. Rescuing Paige is important, but so is securing Lena’s place on the throne.

“Lena underestimates herself,” Aren says, turning me toward the exit. “She can handle the high nobles on her own. Plus, she has Taltrayn at her side.”

Despite his distaste for politics, Aren knows the high nobles and the game they’re playing better than I do. I give his hand a light squeeze before I slide my fingers free from his. I’d rather keep holding it, but we’re not alone, and Shane and Trev both look annoyed and impatient.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the gate. Within fifteen minutes, we cross the Inner City and reach the silver wall. Just on the other side, a river flows down from the Corrist Mountains. A relatively flat area of land lies between the wall and the rapidly rising foothills. No homes or shops are built on it, so we have a clear view of the gate as soon as we pass under the wall.

When we stop beside the river, Aren dips his hand into the water first, and a deep thunder rolls through the air. After his fissure opens, he slips an imprinted anchor-stone between our clasped palms, and I hold my breath as he pulls me into the In-Between.

A second later, we emerge into a stale-smelling room. A broken chair is visible in the instant before our fissure winks out. Then the room plunges into complete darkness. Well, complete darkness except for the blue lightning on Aren’s skin. The chaos lusters look agitated, a sign that we’re in the middle of a major city. There might not be any tech on in this room, but there most certainly is a good amount nearby: streetlights outside, wi-fi in the air, mobile phones placing and receiving calls. Heavy, pounding music grows louder, then fades away. A car driving by, most likely. This isn’t like hanging out at an abandoned inn in the middle of Nowhere, Germany, like the outpost where the rebels first kept me captive. A few hours here, and all the fae will have migraines.

Which makes this city a really odd place for the remnants to hold Paige. I feel the odds of her being here dropping with each erratic flash of lightning across Aren’s skin.

A slash of light nearly blinds me when it pierces the darkness. Trev and Shane step into the room. As soon as Shane releases Trev’s hand, he reaches into his pocket and takes out a cell phone. Trev scowls as Shane holds down the button to turn it on. Apparently, Shane didn’t mention the tech to the fae.

“Paige isn’t that far away,” Shane says. “We don’t even need to take the underground.”

Paige isn’t that far away if she’s at the address we were given.

“Good,” Aren says. “If anything goes wrong, we’ll meet at the gate. You both know where it is?”

On a map, yes. Finding it in person might be a little more difficult, but Shane and I both nod. Hopefully, we won’t get separated. And, hopefully, this won’t take long. Trev is already rubbing his forehead as if he has a headache.

Shane leads the way out. I follow him down a narrow staircase, and Aren and Trev descend after me. It’s dark, but I can still see stains on the thin carpet covering the steps. I keep my hands close to my sides. This is the kind of place where you don’t want to touch anything. At least this is a safe place to emerge into my world. The archives only had three anchor-stones imprinted with locations in London. According to Kavok, one would have taken us directly to the gate, which is out in the open on the northern bank of the Thames, and the other one would have taken us to Westminster. Shane said Westminster wasn’t anywhere close to the address we have, though, so we chose this one because Kavok suggested it was a discreet location. He was right about that. No one’s around to see us.