I would raze this mine to ash.
We burst through the mansion’s back door and Reagan quickly secured the lock, then asked me to bust through. Gladly. More things to destroy. Rage still simmered in my blood, making me jittery, making me want to do something rash, like storm up to Mordecai’s room and take the devil on myself. But she was staring up at me with those big blue and gold eyes, expectant, and I rammed a fist into the metal, snapping the lock clean off the door.
Her brows arched and I paused, realizing in that moment I couldn’t go home. Mordecai would know I’d been a part of this, what with a scalpel protruding from his butler’s eye. Besides, I was a fugitive employee now.
No. I wasn’t.
I quit.
I scratched my neck, watching Flynn and Micah lead the rest of the straggling Fae to safety. Knowing they would find a place for them to hide. But . . . I blew out a breath.
“What’s wrong?”
I looked at her again and blinked. Gaia, when had she become so beautiful? I debated what to tell her. How much did she know? She was running around with the very Fae who were supposed to keep her away from our kind. My plans had backfired terribly. Again.
Bad luck.
I chewed on my lip. Why was this so hard? “I guess this is goodbye. For real this time.” At her widening eyes, I plowed on. “I’m a fugitive now. Associating with me would be a death sentence. And I’m not gonna allow you to take more risks for me.”
Reagan snorted. “The first time I saved your ‘sorry Fae butt’ I signed that death sentence. Pretty sure we’re well past that line.” She paused, scanning the dark mansion nervously. “Stay with me. I have a guest room, and everything you could want. I can get your cat. You’d be safe, at least long enough to figure out something more permanent.”
A million thoughts scrambled for attention. What about Benji? And Haven? I couldn’t sit on my hands, watching TV on her flat screen while Mordecai did who-knew-what to the Fae community. A light flicked on in a window above us and Reagan gasped, her eyes pleading with me. Hurry. Hurry. We were out of time.
I was going to regret this. “Lead the way, stalker.”
—
Heaven.
I had finally died and gone to heaven.
In all my twenty-three years of deprived life, I’d never smelled anything so divine.
I inhaled again, filling my lungs to capacity. Mouth-wateringly rich, the strong scent had dragged me out of a deep sleep. And not simply a deep sleep, but a void filled with nothing. Absolutely nothing. No tossing and turning, no mumbling, no fitful jerks or cries of pain. Best of all, though, no thoughts of the night that had stolen everything from me.
Everything good, anyway.
I heard distant humming, the sound slightly off-key, and a grin spread across my face. Maybe there was still a bit of good after all.
Last night, Reagan had somehow smuggled me up to her apartment without anyone seeing. Then had left as she headed off for patrol again. Not that anyone would notice me, not when they could ogle her naked body instead. My smile slipped. Wasn’t there a way to shift and keep your clothes on? I would have to look into that. Maybe she had a Shapeshifter dictionary or something.
It was morning now. Or afternoon. I didn’t know. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I hadn’t woken with the dawn. Which reminded me of Benji. Was he worried? My chest tightened and I sat up. I had to get word to him. I didn’t want Reagan heading over there, not even to collect Callie. The place was no doubt being watched.
I would probably have to sneak out of here at some point while she was off on patrol. I looked down at the stolen clothing that I’d been too exhausted to remove, still blood-spattered from my encounter with Bushy. Who would have thought that such an unassuming man was hiding such a big secret?
From somewhere in the apartment, Reagan yelped, letting fly a string of curses.
I jumped out of bed and bolted down the hallway as if demons were on my tail. I found her in the kitchen, her back to me. Completely and utterly stark—
The carpet tripped me up and pulled me down. I was up in a flash, scanning the immediate surroundings for the threat.
Reagan glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows pulled together. “Everything okay?”
“No. Yeah,” I panted. Why am I panting? I pointed at her hand. “Why do you have a weapon?”
“These?” She waved the silver object around, clacking the ends. “Tongs. I’m making bacon. You want some?”
I raked a hand through my hair, looking everywhere but at her. Bacon. Bacon. Why did that sound familiar?
“I don’t know. I just—” I cut off when she turned back around and I caught a glimpse of that long, naked spine. That blazing red and orange Phoenix wrapped around her—
Crap.
I cleared my suddenly dry throat. “Are you sure you’re not in danger? I heard you yell.”
“Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, I should know better than to cook bacon after patrol. I’m far too hungry to fuss with clothing.” She snickered. “I’m covered in tiny grease burns, you’d think I’d learn. But yes, I’m perfectly fine.”
I sputtered as my gaze drew downward again. What was wrong with me? Then my mind latched onto a word she said. Burns. I sucked in sharply, stepping nearer. “Let me see.”
“Why? They’re teeny. You can’t even see them. Seriously, they’re my own fault. After patrol I’m lazy, hungry, and man, can you smell this bacon? Worth it.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling and I inwardly groaned. Stubborn woman. Always thinking she deserved the pain others inflicted on her. “I’ve heard of
