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Khol breaks the silence first, voice pitched just above a rumble. “You’re awfully quiet, Sassy.”
I could answer a dozen ways, but I opt for the truth. “I liked it here better than any of the other stops. It felt more honest.”
My rockstar laughs softly. “I knew you would. That’s part of why I pushed to come.”
Dezi doesn’t comment, but his eyes narrow and he makes this little hum, like he’s storing the data for later.
“I love you, my prickly prince, but this was mostly for you. However, I don’t doubt you knew Khol and I would enjoy it as well.” My smile is fond, but knowing. “And that’s okay. You’re allowed to find joy in sharing your passion with kids who need something like this. It matters, Rev.”
“You did enjoy the hell out of it, though. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Rev smirks, his gaze smug. “But now you’re withdrawn again, and I’d like to know what’s going through your pretty head besides the bat.”
He knows me too well. “I’m thinking this was the last good place we’ll see for a while, so I had to enjoy it before everything goes to hell again.”
He considers that and then nods. “Do you think it’s going to go bad when we get home?”
“I know it will,” I say. “But I’ve got what I need to handle it now.” I don’t mean the supplies in the trunk or even the secrets I’ve gained access to. I mean I’ve found myself and my forever family—something that will help me face whatever is coming without fear.
Khol catches my eye in the mirror, and for once, he doesn’t make a joke. “If it goes bad, we do it together, right?”
“Of course,” I say. “That’s the point—stronger together, right?”
It’s a line from the gym banner, but it’s true, and I want them to know I mean it.
Tiernan turns left, putting distance between us and Thornwright. The farther we get, the more the city goes back to looking like polished stone and polite threats.
Rev rests his head back, eyes closed, but his mouth is still curved up. “We should come back someday.”
“Yeah,” I say, letting the word settle in my chest. “We will and we’ll have a good time here… eventually.”
Tomorrow we go back through the Veil to finish what we started. But tonight, I let myself enjoy the ride to the bus. My hands stay loose in my lap, my eyes on the green-lit road, and my men close enough to touch if I feel the need.
The fox, the wolf, the owl, and the fawn—I know what to look for now and who to trust when it matters, even when we get home.
Between that and my internal detection powers, I should be well-equipped to take down the evil there.
Fifty-Two
FIADH
Iknow it’s the end of the road because the city doesn’t even try to disguise its disinterest in our existence anymore.
The center of Ravenhold is bare as a toothless jaw—no banners, no ‘Welcome Prince Revelin’ scaffolds, no dregs of press hoping for a scandal. They even scrubbed the confetti off the square, though I bet it’s still caught in the cracks if you look closely enough. The only evidence of the circus that greeted us is the collection of hand-painted protest signs left to wilt against the bus tires, blocky letters warping in the cold. The slogans are mildly inventive, though the grammar is a horror show.
Unsurprising that people who would follow women like Amethyst and Khorinea without pause aren’t the brightest bulbs in the box.
The SUV’s engine dies with a click, and Tiernan parks it nose-to-nose with our bus. My four men pile out one by one, each moving with a unique brand of exhaustion. Khol flings the back hatch open so hard the entire car rocks, and then drags out the duffel bags with the weapons cache to sling over his shoulder. My leopard carries the components satchel and with a glance at the rooftops, pops the latch on the bus’s side cargo hatch to load it all. Still a bit damp with post-Thornwright sweat, my prince grabs the bundle of sealed documents and books. Dezi stands at the bus doors, his eyes roaming the empty square and the buildings beyond.
I linger in the back seat an extra beat as I watch them. The plaza’s air is so dead I hear Khol’s boots thump on the stone even through the glass. Nothing moves around us, not even the green flame in the nearest streetlamp. When I frown, it sputters once and dies as if it, too, has decided not to witness our exit.
Whatever, assholes. We’re out of here… for now.
Fidget lets out a tiny pip and pokes his nose from my hair, sniffing. I scratch him behind his ridiculous ears, and his claws tighten their hold on my scalp. I know he’s not scared; he’s just reading the scene for drama like I am. Even when it appears completely devoid of life, this square makes me suspicious, and I’d prefer not to have one last attack by random fuckers before we go.
The total lack of people gets to me the most. When we arrived, it was a melee of courtiers and press, street sellers, and gawkers. Now, the entire place is like a freaking ghost town. Even the shutters on the shop windows have been closed tight and their neon signs unplugged. The place looks like a cemetery after the funeral-goers leave. I let the cold air bite my cheeks as I step out, slamming the car door loud enough to make a pigeon explode out of a chimney three blocks down.
Irritated, I walk a circuit of the plaza, keeping to the edge where the lamps are dead and the shadows are thickest. Every time I pass the bus, I clock another protest sign. The first says ‘reject the outsider’, which I hadn’t seen before. A crude picture of an ugly woman with fangs and a ridiculous witch hat adorns another. It’s weird that’s how they’d see me, but I don’t care. The last one says something in High Fae that I think is a threat, but with a marker drawing of a dick under it, so the effect is diluted.
Like I said, she doesn’t inspire brilliance or class, only the dregs.
