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.
Shane reaches the door at the bottom of the stairs. He opens it, exits the building. It’s dark outside. Streetlights reflect off the damp sidewalk, and there’s a chill in the air. I’m grateful for my jacket, but I’m wishing I’d put on something heavier than a thin, long-sleeved T-shirt beneath it.
I stuff my hands into my pockets, then turn, waiting for Aren and Trev to exit the building. The room we fissured into is above what looks like a real-estate agency. Pictures of flats and quaint-looking houses that cost upward of a half million pounds are taped to the window. A couple of doors down the road, a small group of men are standing outside a pub, smoking.
“It’s this way,” Shane says when the fae join us. I fall into step beside him and attempt to not look like a tourist. You’d think that would be easy since I’ve spent so much time in the Realm, which is definitely a more foreign location than this city, but this is London. There’s so much history here. And never mind that this is the homeland of Shakespeare and Jane Austen, King’s Cross Station is somewhere around here. I want to see Platform 9¾. I swear, one of these days, I’m going to have a fae fissure me here for a vacation.
“You’re alive in this city,” Aren says.
“What?” I ask, turning. I was walking beside Shane, but I must have slowed down to take everything in. Aren’s beside me now. Trev and Shane are a few paces ahead.
“You’re more mesmerized by this place than by any place I’ve seen you in the Realm.”
“That’s because no one’s trying to kill me here,” I say.
No one’s trying to kill me here yet. I’m surprised Aren doesn’t point that out, but he just smiles as he watches me, and my stomach does a little flip. It’s as if seeing me here like this makes him happy, and just for a moment, I let myself think about what it would be like to walk down this street with Aren without any worries about the remnants or Paige. That’s what we need, time to be together without all the pressures of the war.