He rises from his lean against the alley wall, his blue eyes alight with silver power. “I’m glad to see you’re unscathed.”
Without another word, he waves his left hand, and our surroundings instantly change.
A grassy field stretches out from us in every direction, and the air brightens. A pleasant breeze wafts around us.
Slade’s power to create temporary realms was a surprise to me, but apparently, it comes with his assassin’s ring. His particular ring was crafted from a silver feather brutally stolen from the Valkyrie Queen Amalia Avery herself. The Queen’s path to vengeance led her to become Lady Tirelli, her pain twisting her into a monster.
Since staying and training with the Legion, I’ve learned about the rings’ vicious history. Slade’s ancestor, Josiah Baines, attained power over metal by selling his soul to a witch, who cast a spell and gave him the power to shape metal to his will.
Josiah used that power to trap the Valkyrie and take their feathers, shaping the feathers into rings that carried the Valkyries’ power—their strength and speed, their ability to make themselves invisible, and their killing ability, along with any other unique power that particular Valkyrie may have controlled.
Josiah’s descendants became the Ringmakers, who continued to hunt the remaining Valkyrie and Keres to near extinction.
Tragically, when a Valkyrie loses a feather, she gets sick and dies. It was the loss of her daughter that sent Amalia into darkness.
Now, the realm Slade has created will allow us to speak freely, without fear of being overhead. Nobody else can stepinto the realm. From the outside, it will appear as if we have disappeared.
“Vanguard didn’t show up,” I say. “He sent his beta, Jonah, like you thought he might.”
Slade doesn’t look surprised. “It’s rare for Vanguard to make an appearance. Did you sense if his warlock was nearby?”
When I asked Slade what he knew about Vanguard, he told me that one way Vanguard protects himself is with the help of a warlock named Orlan, who uses his power to transport Vanguard instantly from place to place.
I shake my head. “The Tavern was filled with humans. The only supernaturals in the streets nearby were shifters. No witches or warlocks.”
Slade scratches his chin. “Then Vanguard really wasn’t taking any chances tonight.”
“He’s agreed to meet me tomorrow night in Central Park,” I say. “But there are conditions.”
Slade grunts. “Of course there are.”
“He wants you there.”
Slade tenses. “That’s unexpected. Do you know why?”
“He said you’d be there anyway, and he wanted you where he could see you.”
Slade gives a snort. “True.” Then, “What else?”
I exhale slowly, taking a beat while Slade peers at me. There’s no way to escape his intelligent gaze, but it takes me long enough to respond that he prompts me.
“Striker?”
My throat closes over as I speak. “Peyton was there.”
Slade takes a step back, appearing more wary of this news than he was about Vanguard’s request that Slade attend the meeting.
“Before you ask,” I continue. “I don’t know why. But she wanted to come to the meeting with Vanguard. She requestedto speak with him after he’s spoken with me. Jonah agreed.” My forehead creases as I attempt to both describe and process Jonah’s attitude toward Peyton. “Jonah was surprisingly deferential toward Peyton. He even bowed to her.”
Slade taps his hand against his thigh, his lips compressing. “This is either good news or deeply troubling news. To our knowledge, Jonah is a fire mage, but his full history is unknown. If he has an inherent respect for Furies—assuming his respect isn’t for Peyton specifically—then her presence could be a benefit to us.” He ends with a heavy exhale. “Or extremely detrimental.”
I nod, acknowledging that I probably already have one of the answers to the questions I should have asked her. “She’s hunting someone.”
“The question is who,” Slade questions. “Vanguard himself?”
“She did threaten to hunt him down if he didn’t agree, but that doesn’t mean it’s him she’s after.”
Slade nods. “It could be someone he’s associated with or someone she thinks he can get to.”
