40. Chapter 40

40

T he whole world felt like it had frozen in time. Like it was closing in around her, sucking all the air out of her lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter until Rebecca either gave in to the pressure or ceased to exist.

Harkennr was here. In Chicago. And he’d sent this gift to her .

The last time she’d had any dealings with this piece of shit, he’d been on his own, independent of associations with or allegiances to any larger organization or old-world conglomerate, despite the reputation he’d built for himself through his particular brand of cruelty and perseverance.

This was the asshole who’d sent her a congratulatory taunt that now felt more like a warning and a challenge.

Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, erasing all other sound from her awareness until it was just Rebecca, her galloping pulse, Harkennr’s name mocking her from a piece of paper, as if that name itself could also laugh in her face.

No…

This couldn’t be happening.

It couldn’t be real.

First, she’d found evidence of the Azyyt Ra’al in Chicago, and now Harkennr. The only thing that could have made this unexpected nightmare any worse were if Harkennr had made himself a scion of the Azyyt Ra’al and now worked with them.

Against her .

The odds of that were astronomically small. Then again, she would have said the same thing about finding signs of either of her old enemies right here in the very same city where she’d tried so hard not to make a name for herself.

She’d failed miserably in that regard. Obviously.

Would she fail to see the rest of the complex threads weaving through the bigger picture too ?

Would she bury herself beneath a mountain of enemies before she even realized she’d spent all this time unknowingly digging her own grave?

Not a grave for her lifeless body, no. Just a tomb for her freedom. A sepulcher in which her autonomy and power of choice, where everything that made her who she was, would be laid to rest.

If any of her enemies found her now—the Azyyt Ra’al, or Harkennr, or even the Bloodshadow Court itself…

“Roth-Da’al!” Maxwell practically shouted, ripping Rebecca back into the present.

She looked quickly up at him, trying to steal her expression, but the look on his face told her he must have already called her a few times before opting for one good shout to get her attention.

The frown she forced onto her face didn’t feel anywhere near convincing. “I’m right here, Hannigan. No need to shout.”

“Then feel free to answer me the first time,” he grumbled. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Wrong?” She crumpled up Harkennr’s note in her fist before opening the top drawer of her desk and cramming it inside, as if it were her newly designated trashcan. “Honestly, Max, if you wanna show a girl you care, the words ‘what’s wrong with you?’ should never come into it.”

His scowl only deepened, which she should have expected.

But she was stalling for time so she could get her own reactions under control before he asked even more dangerous questions and she let something important slip just because this surprise package had now officially rattled her senses.

“You got a welcome gift and an invitation,” Maxwell added, nodding at her closed desk drawer. “So why do you look like you just got a death threat instead?”

His dark eyebrows quirked in just the right way, lifting ever so slightly with an unexpected gentleness in his voice that suddenly made her want to tear down all her defenses and take what comfort she could from finally being wholly open, honest, and authentic with someone.

Anyone.

It had been so long, and Maxwell Hannigan was the lucky winner, because he was the one standing in front of her right now.

She would have loved to believe the concern in his voice was genuine and meant solely for her.

An impossible expectation, really, but an elf could dream.

Rebecca wrinkled her nose and sat back down in the office chair. “I just thought I’d have more time… ”

The sudden calm in her own voice surprised her, and it certainly didn’t match her growing fear of the unknown and her swelling desperation to figure it all out anyway.

Maxwell’s frown nearly turned in on itself. “For what?”

When she looked up at him again, the same concern bordering on tenderness still seeped from the shifter’s expression, but she forced herself to ignore it. Giving in was too dangerous for both of them, let alone every other member of Shade for whom Rebecca was now explicitly responsible.

She couldn’t afford to let anyone else get dragged down into this with her any more than she could afford unnecessary distractions.

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered through a sigh. “You read the note. Any idea what this Harkennr person wants?”

His silver eyes settled on the figurine at the corner of her desk before he shook his head. “Never heard the name.”

“Really? Interesting. I thought you were Aldous’s confidant and personal errand boy and… I don’t know, butler or something.”

The shifter let out a noncommittal hum, which was probably supposed to make him sound indifferent but only piqued Rebecca’s curiosity so much more before he replied, “I never assumed Aldous told me everything . Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, was part of the problem.”

When he met her gaze again, Rebecca had to look away. No matter what the cause of it, that unanticipated tingling across her skin beneath his gaze was really turning up the intensity dial right now.

Not that she didn’t enjoy the sensation. Quite the opposite, actually.

That was a problem in and of itself, and not currently a problem to which she could prioritize rooting out a solution. Not now.

Plus, if her Head of Security was trying to hint not-so-subtly that the majority of Aldous’s bigger problems came from the fact that he hadn’t told the shifter everything , the message certainly wasn’t lost on Rebecca.

That didn’t mean she would take the bait and bite just for fun. Just because he’d brought it up.

No thanks.

“Well,” she said, leaning back in the office chair and trying to breathe calmly so her heart rate might settle down. “ I’ve heard the name Harkennr. Used to run one of his own old-world crime rings, I guess you call it. The issue right now, though, is what to do with this invitation. How possible do you think it is that Aldous already had dealings with this Kordus Harkennr?”

Maxwell took longer than she would have liked to answer her question, seemingly more intrigued by the sight of a cardboard box filled with nothing but packing peanuts than by answering his commander’s question .

She almost repeated herself, just in case he hadn’t been listening, before he finally figured out what he wanted to say.

Maxwell folded his arms. “You want my honest opinion?”

She huffed out a wry laugh. “That would be preferable to the alternative, Max. Yes.”

“I think it’s highly possible. Probable, even. Aldous did a lot of shit without telling anyone about it until he needed something from someone at the last second. Including from me.”

“Oh.” She plunked an elbow down onto the desk and propped her chin up on her fist before pouting up at him. “That must’ve made you feel real left out…”

“Even then,” he continued with an almost concealed roll of his eyes, “Aldous never provided anyone with all the necessary information. Just bits and pieces here and there. So whatever I know, it’s only a small piece of the whole. That’s how he preferred it, apparently. Even in the face of my strong advisement against it.”

Well now…Was this her Head of Security starting to open up? Or was Maxwell Hannigan trying to deliver his own threat as thinly veiled as the one written between the liens of that note from Harkennr?

“That doesn’t really help me now, does it?” she asked with another pout, her chin still on her fist. “Any suggestions?”

Maxwell shrugged. “If we were looking at a possible covert attack, I’d say ignore it. But the package was clearly addressed to you, even without a name. The invitation was an invitation. Didn’t seem like there was much more to it. And yeah, you’ve got a responsibility now to protect this task force and every magical in the greater Chicago area. That’s what we do.”

He looked up at her again as he delivered that last part and dipped his head toward her, as if wanting to make sure she understood what was at stake here.

Like he didn’t think Rebecca Knox knew shit about leading anyone from any form of command position.

If he’d known Rebecca Knox didn’t actually exist and that she was Rebecca Bloodshadow instead, would he still have wondered this about her?

Who was she kidding? A lone-wolf shifter had worked his way up through an organization like Shade didn’t know shit about Elven clans or their politics. Even if she told him her real name now, he’d probably still assume she was completely clueless.

“So what you’re telling me,” she said slowly, trying to make it sound like she was only just now putting the pieces together, “is that if I have to have a little sit-down with a Xaharí crime lord straight from Xahar’áhsh who’s now setting up his own little empire in Chicago, so be it?”

Maxwell tugged on the cuffs of his long-sleeve button-down shirt, then rolled his shoulders back before clasping his hands behind his back again.

She’d just made him uncomfortable with that question, hadn’t she?

One more of the shifter’s emergency buttons she’d have to remember to press again later.

“Well…” He cleared his throat. “Sure. I wouldn’t have used those words exactly …but if it were me, I’d go meet this Harkennr face to face and at the very least take the opportunity to shake his hand and look him in the eye.”

“Right.” The corner of Rebecca’s mouth twitched. “And then you’d probably start sniffing him too.”

He snorted but didn’t say a word.

“All right. Well, unless you’re about to reach into all those packing peanuts and pull out an RSVP slip, I’m gonna take his word for it and go with setting this up at my earliest convenience.”

For the first time in all six months she’d spent with Shade—including during every stupid, arbitrary, downright impossible mission she’d executed with a Shade team under Aldous’s direct orders but while answering directly to Maxwell instead—she actually saw the shifter light up.

His silver eyes glinted with a bright sheen she didn’t recognize. His frown had all but disappeared. Was that something like a smile just barely starting to show itself at the corners of his mouth?

No. It couldn’t be.

But when he spoke, he didn’t even sound like himself anymore, either.

“Planning to pay the Old Joliet Prison a visit tomorrow night would give us more than enough time to prepare,” he said.

If Rebecca hadn’t known better, she would have said he sounded downright giddy at the prospect.

Us , huh? Wasn’t this cute?

“Prepare for what, exactly?” Rebecca asked, holding back more than ever to keep from making a joke at the expense of the shifter’s sudden excitement and eagerness despite how clear she’d made it that Harkennr wasn’t exactly a good guy.

“Several different contingencies come to mind, actually,” Maxwell replied without a hint of jest in his voice.

No, Maxwell was absolutely serious about diligently helping her plan for this little sit down with one insanely bad magical she really didn’t want to see again. Apparently, though, she didn’t have much of a choice.

“Great.” Rebecca nodded at him. “I’ll take your advice, Max. Tomorrow night will be my earliest convenience, so I want you to put together a team small enough to not make a fuss. As long as it includes whoever you think is the best fit for a diplomatic exchange.”

When he realized she was serious and that this was basically in order, Maxwell responded with a curt nod. “I’m on it.”

“Diplomacy and an ability to keep a level head while simultaneously making a show of force,” she added. “That’s important. I don’t want anyone jumping the gun on this before we know exactly who we’re dealing with.”

“Understood.”

“Excellent.” Rebecca flashed him a tight smile as she laced her fingers together and tucked both hands behind her head. “Tell you what, Hannigan. Aldous left one hell of a mess. We’ve got our work cut out for us in cleaning it up. Kinda feels like this is how we start.”

He grunted, which could have been in agreement purely because he felt it was the most appropriate response before moving on. “And then?”

When she flashed him a wide grin this time, she meant it. All of it. “And then we do things right from here on out.”

There it was again—that bright, brilliant flash in his eyes, like an Aegen-bound pup jumping through the Eventide currents. Or, as the saying went here on Earth, like a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’ll let you know when I’ve assembled the team,” he said.

“You do that.” Rebecca nodded and kicked both legs out in front of her to cross one ankle over the other. “And make sure everyone’s ready to move tomorrow night.”

“Yeah.” The shifter was already hurrying on his way out of the office before he paused, looked at her over his shoulder, and nodded toward the closed door. “I mean, if you…”

“I’m not gonna officially dismiss you,” she told him, letting her smile twitch at the thought. “Just go get it done.”

He pressed his lips together, as if trying to keep from returning her half-smile, then offered one final nod before slipping through the door and closing it again behind him.

Well, damn.

If Rebecca had known he’d be that eager to head out and get something started and prepared for a small upcoming mission that could potentially provide Shade with some high-level connections—maybe even an ally or two in the process—she would’ve given him a pet-project assignment a long time ago.

The way he’d looked at her when she’d declared her intentions to do things right from here on out …

Rebecca really had meant it when she’d said it. She cared enough about Shade to want to steer it back in the right direction, and though this place wasn’t her true home, she’d gotten used to it. To being a part of the team. To actually doing some good in this world, provided it allowed her to keep her secrets in the process.

Maxwell had looked so surprised to hear her say anything he actually agreed with, which made the idea far too enticing to pass up.

Had he honestly thought she would be that much of a problem for his precious task force?

Probably. Shifters weren’t the best at dishing out trust unless it was well and truly earned first.

But if Rebecca had any chance of earning it from a shifter like Maxwell Hannigan, that chance had just presented itself. Maybe after this little sit down with Harkennr, her Head of Security would finally take her seriously and quite his twenty-four-hour Roth-Da’al-surveillance.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

Then her attention centered on the stone figurine sitting on her desk—an invitation and a challenge all at once.

With a snort, Rebecca snatched up the figurine with one hand and jerked open the center desk drawer with the other. Inside, the new vials from Zida clinked around against each other.

The sound made her pause.

Because only now had a brand-new opportunity presented itself, and this one didn’t need to be shared with her Head of Security.

She didn’t have to prove herself to anyone, least of all Maxwell Hannigan. Not to mention the fact that if she really was going in for this meeting with Harkennr, that self-important swindler calling himself a businessman would absolutely recognize her.

How could he not, even after all this time?

After what she’d done to him and his forces before she’d left him all alone in the dark to clean up the trail of death and destruction she’d left in her wake just to get away from him?

She couldn’t take Maxwell with her. Not in a million years. She couldn’t take anyone from Shade with her.

But now, Maxwell had gotten so excited about a real mission, he was finally fully occupied with something else.

And Rebecca was finally alone again. Unwatched. Unguarded.

Free to do whatever she wanted.

Yes, this was it. This was her chance.

She might never have another chance like this again .

Or if she did, Rebecca was already certain that by the time that chance presented itself, the poison in her veins would have already killed her.

Screw it. She was already half-dead at this point. To avoid becoming all-dead, she had to move right now.

As long as she didn’t get caught, she might even make it to tomorrow.