24. Chapter 24

24

“ I ’ve got something to say, and no one’s going anywhere until I’ve said my piece! So everyone shut up and listen!”

Amidst the laughter and excited conversation dying down in the common room, Rebecca turned toward Leonard just like everyone else did. But unlike everyone else, she couldn’t ignore the growing sense of doom settling in over Shade.

Honestly, she was fairly certain she was the only one who could feel it, and she still hadn’t figured out why.

She wanted to join in the celebration. She should have been just as proud of what her team had accomplished tonight as the rest of the task force clearly was. The feeling brewing in her gut since they’d returned only grew stronger.

The feeling that everything in her life, which had already been balancing precariously on a knife’s edge for way too long, was about to crash down around her at any second, and she was powerless to stop it.

To make matters worse, she wasn’t simply expected to be present at this celebration while her mind could wander off on its own, attempting to strategize for future problems that hadn’t risen yet. Because Leonard was determined to draw her even further into it.

Titus handed the mage a paper cup of whatever liquor he’d already opened for the toast, chuckling when Leonard dipped his head over the rim for an experimental sniff. His nose twitched, several more people laughed, then the mage dove right in. “This will be quick and painless. I promise. For me, anyway.”

More laughter followed as drinks were passed around or refilled or poured for the first time.

“Let’s hear it for Knox!” Leonard shouted, thrusting his drink in the air.

Shit.

The entire task force launched a volley of cheers and laughter before several operatives called out at the same time, “Thon-Da’al! You’re toasting the Thon-Da’al , you idiot!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay !” the mage shouted back. “If we’re getting all fancy and formal here, fine.”

He waved off the jokes, then lifted his cup toward Rebecca where she’d frozen in place the second he’d called her by her fake last name.

“To the Thon-Da’al ,” he said, grinning. “Or for anyone who still gets a little creeped out by using old-world titles, to our Commander! Couldn’t have done it without you.”

As the others broke into cheers and applause, Leonard lifted his cup in Rebecca’s direction again, pounded a fist against his chest, and nodded once more, this one meant specifically for her.

Rebecca jerked her head up at him, which was as much of an acknowledgement as she could manage, and wished she’d gone right to bed as soon as they’d climbed up from the parking garage. Just because she was Shade’s commander now didn’t mean her feelings about being in the spotlight had changed.

She still didn’t want it. Yet here she was.

When the cheering died down, Leonard laughed and called out, “Come on, Knox. It’s a celebration. You gotta stay and have a drink with us! Just one.”

He just couldn’t let it go, could he?

Dozens of smiling faces all turned toward her again, putting their commander squarely in the center of all the attention she absolutely did not want. The rising shouts for her to join them with a drink drowned out all her other thoughts before she realized they wouldn’t let this one go.

She pretended to think about it, folding her arms and leaning back against the wall beside the closest branching hallway, then rolled her eyes. “Fine. One drink.”

The others cheered. Leonard let out an exuberant whoop and ordered Titus to pour the commander a drink.

After standing in the discomfort long enough, Rebecca realized how different the general air in the common room tonight was at any other time. The celebration of her rise to commander had been one thing, then there had been the after-party following Rowan’s notable performance in successfully completing The Striving.

Tonight it was something different.

Tonight was a celebration for all of Shade, for everything they’d already achieved, and for everything they would achieve in the future.

At the docks tonight, a Shade team had successfully completed a mission with no deadly command interference and zero casualties. That was a massive step in the right direction and a big deal.

Leonard wanted to credit Rebecca for that success, but in reality, the greatest advantage the team had had tonight was a complete lack of Aldous Corriger among them, ruining everything they attempted and almost getting them killed.

Who was she to bring down the mood by correcting that misconception?

She couldn’t refuse the credit or the gratitude.

She couldn’t let herself soak up the celebratory vibe, either.

Her thoughts centered on preparing herself for when everything went wrong, because it would.

She could feel it in her bones now, just like she’d known from the moment she first saw him in the holding room that Rowan’s presence here meant nothing good, even when all signs so far still pointed to the contrary.

But she wasn’t just Rebecca Knox anymore, who could make herself invisible within Shade at the drop of a hat, whenever she wanted.

She was the Thon-Da’al now, their commander, and everything she did was under some kind of scrutiny. For a while, that would include comparing everything she did to how bad Aldous Corriger had been. Eventually, though, once that novelty wore off, she would still be noticed every day, at every moment, everywhere she went.

Rebecca was behind the wheel now, driving this task force toward their next destination, and the next, and the one after that.

Anonymity and privacy were luxuries that had now become completely inaccessible to her, and the rest of Shade wanted to thank her for it.

It made no sense.

The celebration continued before Rebecca even got that drink into her hands. Though when it finally came her way, she was surprised to find Maxwell was the one bringing it to her.

He stopped in front of her with her filled cup in his outstretched hand, holding it as if he thought it might attack him.

“What is it?” Rebecca asked, eyeing the cup.

“Something Bor cooked up on his own.” Maxwell gave the cup a tentative sniff. “Or so I’m told.

“And it’s supposed to be safe? I see you haven’t tested it yet.”

“You must have missed it, then.” Maxwell removed his other hand from behind his back to reveal a second disposable cup. Then he extended Rebecca’s drink closer toward her with an odd smile. “At the very least, I can confirm it won’t kill you.”

Rebecca let out a wry laugh. “Very reassuring.”

He nodded, then paused when Rebecca finally took her drink. “Congratulations, Thon-Da’al.”

If she’d already taken her first sip, she would have choked on it.

Did he just congratulate her?

Trying not to look too confused by it, Rebecca returned the odd smile and reached for her drink. Her fingers brushed against his when she wrapped them around the cup, as they probably would have with anyone else.

But with the shifter, that contact between their fingers ignited another fiery spark of the same intensifying energy Rebecca recognized only too well. The warm tingle. The unignorable pull. The rightness of something about Maxwell Hannigan she had yet to define.

With the familiar sensation came an unfamiliar and entirely new flare of different energy—a dark need rising inside her like nothing ever had before, its power compelling her toward Maxwell from the inside out with far more strength than anything else she’d felt around him.

So forceful, in fact, that as she froze and accepted the drink from him, daring to look down at their shared grasp on the plastic cup where their fingers touched, Rebecca saw something new and vastly different.

A shower of silver sparks burst into existence at the contact of Maxwell’s fingers and hers—dark silver and lighter streaks, like her Bloodshadow magic erupting on its own but not quite like it at the same time.

Like the silvery flare of Maxwell’s inherent magic but also not quite.

More than ever, it felt like she’d stuck her fingers in a wall socket.

The second those sparks faded, she looked up at Maxwell, wondering if he’d seen them too and hoping he hadn’t. Hoping he wouldn’t have one more thing to question her about after everything they’d already achieved.

Hope did nothing for her.

Maxwell had already noticed, and he froze just like she did at the magic flaring beneath their touch. His eyes widened, and he looked up at her almost in fear, as if she had any idea what this was.

No way in hell could he ever deny having noticed or felt the same thing Rebecca did just by being around him. He couldn’t deny this, either.

Even if he tried, there was definitely something here.

The look he gave her next, however, momentarily eliminated her ability to rationalize how to handle this. Part of his expression steeped in disapproval, like he blamed her for these physical reactions between them. Like he believed she could make them stop on her own.

But it wasn’t just disapproval. There was something else there. A dark, hidden hunger she’d never seen before now flaring behind his eyes.

Hunger for what?

She had no clue. It couldn’t possibly have been for her , could it?

Then again, Maxwell had given her no indication that it wasn’t her. He also hadn’t made it clearer that any feelings he might have had for her extended beyond her status as Shade’s commander and his duty as their Head of Security.

Whatever this was, though, the shifter absolutely knew it was there.

So, at the very least, she wasn’t losing her mind.

She opened her mouth and inhaled, standing at the edge of finally asking him about it so it wouldn’t later evolve into something else driving a wedge between them. She didn’t get the chance to even bring it up.

“Enjoy your drink, Commander,” Maxwell told her, holding her in the luminous clutches of his silver eyes. “Excuse me.”

He released the cup—and her fingers—and left her there by the wall, heading off to engage in other conversations with other Shade members who’d been waiting to catch his attention.

Rebecca stared after him, at a loss as to an appropriate reaction. He had done nothing wrong, technically. He’d simply refused to acknowledge what happened when their fingers touched around her cup, or to allow her the chance to broach the subject with him.

Maybe it was for the best. They were in the common room, surrounded by Shade members getting their drink on to celebrate the task force’s most recent victory. The first one in a long time. It was better to leave a discussion like that for another private moment, whenever that would be.

Private moments for anything or anyone were growing a lot harder to come by.

She tried to let it go and think of something else, though after he’d left her so abruptly, she couldn’t help but search for him again and again as the minutes passed.

Maxwell mingled with the other operatives, occasionally sharing his own version of a story or remarking on someone else’s. For the most part, though, he made his rounds with his usual silent watchfulness.

Rebecca did notice that he stayed relatively close to her within the common room. Even when he looked engaged in someone else’s conversation, he never strayed far enough that she couldn’t turn and instantly find him close by.

That only made the sudden change in his demeanor that much more striking. Normally, if Rebecca searched for him in a crowd, he was already staring at her by the time she found him. Tonight, she didn’t catch him looking at her once.

She’d expected that to come as a relief, but instead, Rebecca only found herself disappointed and unable to change the way she felt about it. After everything they’d been through, he was ignoring her on purpose now, was he?

It was impossible to tell what Maxwell Hannigan wanted. That was more frustrating even than when he’d been spying on her and trying to keep her from leaving the compound. Back then, Rebecca had known what his intentions were, even while attempting to thwart them.

But now?

Now, she had no idea what her Head of Security was thinking, and she didn’t like the feeling of it one bit.

So she tried to focus instead on the party, but this unknown thing growing and changing between her and Maxwell made that impossible.

So did the knowledge that Rowan was still here, as a member of Shade and as a part of everything in which Rebecca now involved herself. His presence disturbed her, most of all, because Rebecca couldn’t predict when the elf was going to make his move and reveal all the secrets she’d worked so hard to bury while she lived out this new life of hers right here.

Throughout the night, she searched for Rowan too, covertly watching his interactions. He laughed and joked with the others, speaking animatedly as he shared stories and making himself the first to laugh at someone else’s. On the surface, he looked like the charming, personable elf everyone thought him to be. Because why would he have been anything else?

Rebecca knew how charming Rowan could be, as long as no one expected him to take anything too seriously. That was the problem.

No matter how long she watched him or how hard she tried to let it go, she still couldn’t make up her mind about the Blackmoon Elf. On one hand, she was indescribably grateful to see him again, to have a familiar face from her old life right beside her, within arm’s reach, accessible whenever she might need to rely on such a friendly face.

It was so good to see him again. Rebecca hadn’t let herself think about how much she’d missed their friendship over so many decades.

Tonight, though, his presence reminded her why she’d chosen not to think about him at all.

It just hurt too much. That hurt—the pain of seeing Rowan Blackmoon again after all these years, after Rebecca had spent so much time forcing herself to get over the losses inherent in leaving Xahar′áhsh for Earth, to make any number of new lives for herself—reminded her of just how dangerous it was to keep him around at all.

She’d left him behind with everything else. For a very good reason. Now, that reason was staring her in the face once again. He’d weaseled his way back into her life, into her existence with Shade, and she couldn’t stand the fact that he’d found her. Not after all the precautions she'd taken against such a thing.

Because if Rowan had been able to find her, who else might be on her trail even now, so close to discovering Rebecca Bloodshadow’s whereabouts? How many of her old enemies were sneaking up behind her, sniffing her out in Chicago while Shade partied the night away for finally not having failed?

Beyond thinking of potential enemies, though, Rebecca hated how much Rowan’s presence made her unwillingly think of her own family and the Bloodshadow Court. Did they know where she was? Did they know he’d found her? How much information had Rowan already fed back to them? Would more members of the Bloodshadow Court come for her next?

Would they unknowingly lead her enemies even closer?

The more she tried to ignore this line of thinking to enjoy the party, the more questions popped up in her mind, refusing to let her think of anything else. Very quickly, the whole thing became far too overwhelming, her attempts to smile and act natural far too exhausting and pointless.

She had to get out of here before she snapped for reasons she couldn’t explain. Before the entire task force started asking the kinds of questions she couldn’t answer as a necessity of self-preservation.

The more she watched Rowan, the more she needed to know exactly how he’d found her. And how he could play so nice with everyone else in this room when he hadn’t shown up at Shade headquarters with the intention of officially signing on.

Why did he put so much effort into acting like he belonged here? That wasn’t like him.

No, it wasn’t like Rowan in his natural state, as himself. But when he wanted something, he could play any part required of him until he got what he wanted.

That was what Rowan did. He played along, he ingratiated himself, he made everyone else feel safe, and when the time was right to call in a favor or make his move, he pounced and caught everyone around him completely unaware.

Rebecca’s curiosity nearly drove her mad. She wanted to ask him what his endgame was. But calling a private meeting with Shade’s new elf would, first and foremost, alert her Head of Security about it. Then Maxwell would come to question her even more about it, and she didn’t think she could lie to him.

No matter what it was, anything she might try besides ignoring her own instincts would make the shifter just as suspicious of her, and they were just starting to make progress with learning to trust and rely on each other when necessary. She didn’t want to bring all that crashing down.

Correction, she couldn’t afford to let it all come crashing down around her.

Rowan might have once been her closest friend, but that was a long time ago. If she abandoned her responsibilities with Shade in order to treat him the same way she always had back home, she was more likely to lose Shade because of it and gain nothing from Rowan.

Nothing that could help her. He wasn’t here for her, anyway. He was here for himself.

Rebecca knew she’d stayed at this late-night party too long when Rowan extricated himself from a knot of operatives clustered around to hear another one of his stories. She fought off the urge to run just as he turned and locked gazes with her across the common room.

No, she hadn’t been trying to catch his attention. She didn’t want to talk to him. Now was not the time.

But suddenly, with all the thoughts jumbled up in her mind and all the unanswered questions holding a precarious balance for who knew how much longer, she wasn’t fast enough to come up with a good excuse for leaving.

For removing the temptation of letting Rowan walk toward her through the clustered groups of talking, laughing, drinking Shade members.