I couldn’t be the reason the Architect’s family was snuffed out.
My family. My problem.
I laid my hand on Xan’s shoulder and lied. “No.” I used him to push myself up and put one hand on the hatch.
“Wait.” Xan held up a finger. I looked back to see his eyes slightly unfocused, the only sign he spoke with his lover mind-to-mind.
I opened the hatch. Fresh air flooded the Alun.
“My men found Brit,” Xan relayed. “Horax is dead. Brit’s in bad shape but alive.”
I nodded. A cool calm replaced my rage. My time in Quinn’s mind had been brief, but it was clear my Prophet struggled to break her. I needed to be fast, go in, assess, and get her out.
Rowan hit the ground with his fists. “The body snatchers with the coal-black eyes. I let him get away. He must have her now.”
He didn’t.
I put my hands on the top of the hatch.
“Cayden. Where are you going?” Xan asked.
I pushed out of the Alun. “I have something I need to take care of.”
“Now?” Rowan exclaimed.
I ignored him and boosted myself out. Cool air slapped my bare chest. I’d left my shirt in the Alun. I pulled Quinn’s favorite hoodie out of my pocket-void and hurried down the hall, hitting Crown Square just as the sun ended its daily struggle to get through the clouds. Magic oozed through the courtyard, a slick film snaking over my skin, hungry for my power.
‘Crown Square is slimy again. Tell Xan to get his monsters in line,’I said to Rowan.
‘Fix your fucking priorities,’Rowan responded.
I grunted, shutting him out, and kept walking.
I made it past Wicked Wich before I stopped, inventorying what I had in my pocket-void versus what I kept in my dorm. Every trick I knew, every scrap of stored magic would be spent tonight.
Erick spotted me and rushed to my side. “Yo.”
I eyed Quinn’s roommate, a king of London whom I’d briefly allied with against Brody.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
Erick put his hands in the air. “Quinn’s missing.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“I have people.” He tapped his chin. “They look into things. The Architect has received threats, a lot of them.” He smirked. “He’s a mentalist, clearly into a powerhouse from our past, and now she’s missing. Conclusions are being drawn. Bad ones. The McDonalds assume she’s splayed out in some sex dungeon under the castle. It wouldn’t take much to confirm their theory, especially from her roommate.”
I gritted my teeth. “What makes you think I give a shit about the Architect?”
Erick tutted. “You don’t. But you care about Quinn, and if the Architect’s suddenly defending his walls, he won’t be looking for her anymore, will he?”
I scowled.
Erick held up his thumb and pointer finger close together. “Tiny favor. Keep away from your dorm.” He leaned forward. “We’re on the same page, right? You’ve not been in, and I needed the space for a party.”
My tattoo smoldered, sending agony down my arm. I gripped it. The tendons in my neck pulled tight until they popped. The smell of charred flesh drifted between us. Erick took a sniff and grimaced before taking a step back.
“Everything okay, friend?” he asked.
