Chapter 2

TWO

It was about a mile and a half back to the hostel, and I made it in just under thirty minutes at a brisk walk. I knew better than to run through urban areas… It only drew the kind of attention none of us could afford.

When I arrived, the downstairs common area and dining room were mostly empty, except for a couple of shapeshifter teens playing cards and what looked like an entire gang of gargoyles sitting around the table, eating ramen and muttering while shooting suspicious looks at the shapeshifters.

To be fair, gargoyles always looked a bit suspicious, so maybe they were actually super chill and relaxed. They might be besties, or they might be about to start an inter-species incident right in the middle of the dining room. Hard for an ex-human to tell.

I took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door of our tiny little private room. “It’s me.”

The door swung open with an ominous creak to reveal… no one. Then I heard a giggle from behind me and had to swallow the horrified curse that sprang to my lips.

Ari was only six years old, and no matter how hard I tried, she simply didn’t understand why she shouldn’t use her magic where anyone could see. The only way to keep her in check was to make it a game, and someday I was going to run out of ideas. Today though…

“First one in gets to sleep on the top bunk,” I declared, and darted through the door.

It slammed behind me, and I winced, just as a tiny girl with dark eyes and dark hair in pigtails appeared atop the bunk bed on my left.

“I win, Rainy! I win!”

I breathed out a sigh of relief as I smiled and reached up to tweak her pigtail. “You did, Ari-bug. I guess I get the bottom bunk again .”

My smile turned to an exaggerated pout, which made her squeal with delight and begin bouncing enthusiastically, narrowly avoiding a collision with the ceiling. While she celebrated, I turned to the bunk bed on the opposite side of the tiny room.

Logan was curled up in the back corner of the lower bunk, his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around his knees.

“You doing okay there, bud?”

He nodded, his shaggy brown hair falling to cover his face so I couldn’t really read his expression. We thought he was about thirteen, but it was hard to tell after the life he’d lived. He’d hit a growth spurt about the time we fled Colorado, which meant he was now all arms and legs and could never get enough food to keep that hungry look at bay. Not that food was really all he needed. The power they’d forced into that fragile body seemed constantly on the verge of tearing him apart. Thankfully, he hadn’t lost control in weeks, but it was a constant struggle that some days I wasn’t sure he was going to win.

They needed stability. Hope. A place to call home. We all did. And this job was just the first step on that road.

“Guess what?”

Kes unfolded from her perch on the windowsill, tucking her dark hair behind her slightly pointed ear as she came to her feet. “Did you get it? Did you really get the job?”

I nodded, finally allowing my lips to curve into a real, heartfelt smile. “I did. And I start tomorrow.”

Her gray eyes closed for a moment, and her shoulders sagged as the tension left her face. “That’s good. Very good.”

Kes was actually half fae, marked by those ears and her silvery gray skin. She was twenty-two, but had never been outside fae lands before and had an entire laundry list of reasons why she did not dare attempt to work a normal job.

Which meant this was all on me, but I didn’t mind. I’d had to be the strong one ever since I was tiny, when Dad got sick and Mom was strung out on who knew what. Even when Dad died and the state took me away, I’d been the one to look out for the smaller kids in our crowded foster home.

There were days I wished I wasn’t quite so alone with this responsibility, but that was just self-pity talking. Kes was the biggest reason we’d escaped with our lives, and all she’d asked was that I take her with me. The kids certainly didn’t deserve any of the terrible things they’d already suffered, so how could I let them down now?

“I don’t know when I’ll get paid, but the owner said I can eat there, so that’ll save some money. We can make it on the fruit and ramen downstairs until then.”

Run down as it was, we’d been lucky to get a room at the Hotel Idria. It was actually a hostel that catered exclusively to a diverse magical clientele. Since most Idrians preferred to mingle with their own kind, it was mostly popular with those on the outs with their own courts, which often meant those who were desperate or possibly just a bit on the wrong side of the law. Which was fine with us, as it meant fewer questions about where we were from and why we were traveling with two kids who appeared to be fully human.

“We’ll be fine here,” Kes assured me, even though I knew it had to be killing her to stay cooped up in the room all day. Trying to entertain the kids, keep their magic hidden, and not go crazy worrying about who or what might be after us.

“I’m going to look for places we can go with the kids,” I promised her. “They’ll need more than just this room.” There was a tiny green space with picnic tables out back, but we could only use it if no one else was out there.

But first… “Who wants ramen for dinner?”

Ari cheered, disappeared from the top bunk and blinked back into existence right in front of me before throwing her arms around my waist.

“My favorite!”

Somehow, after everything she’d been through, she was still a ball of unrelenting sunshine, and I was going to make sure she had every reason to stay that way.

Unfortunately, our moment of optimism was interrupted by a heavy knock at the door.

Kes turned white. Logan shrank further into himself, and Ari wrapped her arms around my leg and refused to let go.

We were all pretty jumpy after the past six months, but it was probably just the front desk staff letting us know that the water was going to be shut off for an hour, or someone from the room below us complaining about Ari jumping on the bed. Something completely normal. And when I looked through the peephole, the man in the hall did look pretty normal. Human shaped.

“Glamour,” Kes whispered from behind me. She could feel it when she got close enough, and I’d relied on her senses more than once to tell me when the seemingly harmless person at the rest stop might turn out to be a bounty hunter on our trail.

But we couldn’t afford to get kicked out of this tentative haven, so I opened the door with a bright smile and hoped I didn’t look deranged.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”

Ari clung to my leg, looked up at the newcomer, and sneezed. “He tickles my nose,” she informed me. More proof that our visitor was using glamour—Ari seemed to have developed an allergy.

“Raine Kendrick?”

Adrenaline shot through my veins, accelerating my heart rate and narrowing my focus on the man in front of me. I didn’t want to hurt anyone else. I didn’t want to run. But to protect everyone in this little room, I would do whatever I had to.

“Yes?” My voice remained steady, my smile unchanged, but I was ready for whatever our visitor might unleash.

“I’m Nico.” The man was around six feet tall with brown skin and close cut dark hair. Everything about him was wide and solid, like a wall had somehow assumed human form, and yet he managed not to come off as looming or threatening. “I work at The Portal. Faris sent me down here to ask if you could come in to work tonight. Had an unexpected development, and we could use the extra help.”

For a brief moment, I wondered whether this “unexpected development” had auburn hair and amber eyes and looked like he could break people in half with his bare hands.

But I didn’t ask, because I had more important questions. Namely…

“How did you know where I live? I never gave Faris an address.”

Nico just shrugged. “You’re in Oklahoma City. It’s his town.”

As if that ought to explain everything. A tiny shiver of apprehension shot down my spine, but I reminded myself that this was why I was here. Because this place was somehow outside the jurisdiction of the courts. Because none of them dared interfere too openly.

“Okay,” I agreed. “What time?”

“How soon can you get there?”

“I can walk it in thirty minutes.”

He nodded in approval. “Make it an hour.” He took a backpack off his shoulder and held it out. “Here’s your uniform and a few other things you might need. When you get there, come in through the back and ask for Irene.”

For a moment, his gaze dropped to Ari, and I tensed for his reaction, my breath tangling in my chest. But he only smiled, offered her a tiny wave, and took off down the hall towards the stairs with a heavy, deliberate stride.

I released that breath and looked back at Kes, who remained frozen by the window. “I guess I have work,” I told her apologetically. “Will you be okay on your own again?”

She managed a tremulous nod. It had taken every bit of courage she had to help us escape, and I could see each new challenge taking a toll on her. She needed a break. A place where she could breathe in safety. I only hoped I would be able to provide that eventually.

“You could take the kids out back once the sun goes down,” I suggested. Logan would need the connection with the earth for at least a short time, and Ari could use a moment to get the zoomies out. “But dinner first.”

Ari cheered. Kes nodded. Logan unfolded from the bed and stood, weaving back and forth on his long, skinny legs.

Somehow, I promised myself. Somehow, I was going to make this better. For all of them.

The backpack proved to contain a pair of black jeans, a black button-down shirt, and a pair of solid black sneakers, all of which at least fit better than the clothes I’d worn to my interview. After I slipped into the bathroom to change and pulled my hair into a low ponytail, we trouped down to the dining room and selected our dinner from the large basket filled with cup ramen, cup soup, and cup oatmeal. Not exactly top shelf nutrition, but it was free and no one would go hungry.

There was also a bowl of fruit and massive urns filled with coffee and hot water. Unusual amenities for a hostel that had clearly seen better days, and I wasn’t about to complain.

While the kids ate and Kes pretended to pick at a cup of oatmeal, I poured myself a cup of coffee and listened curiously to the news blaring from a tv in the corner of the room.

It was human news, of course, but every once in a while, the humans picked up on a story that might impact local Idrians and added it to their rotation, sort of like an afterthought.

“… our correspondent reports that Oklahoma City will soon be playing host to an unusual gathering, and one that has local authorities on edge. Bianca Bellwether has the story.”

The view switched to a perfectly styled blonde woman standing somewhere that looked oddly familiar. She’d been talking for about ten seconds before I realized it was the building just across the street from The Portal—a six-story brick cube with numerous windows, old-fashioned lamps on the facade, and a general air of emptiness.

“Here in what was once home to a popular Italian restaurant, renovations are underway in preparation for what our sources say is called simply ‘The Symposium.’ But no one we’ve been able to interview seems to know who is in charge, or even why this gathering is taking place. All we’ve been able to determine is that Idrian leaders from all over the country will be arriving here at some point during the next few weeks, and while there is no reason to believe that this Symposium will not be peaceful, many are wondering whether it heralds a change in the status quo for human/Idrian relations. While the city has thus far maintained a position of neutrality towards local Idrian residents, there is now an air of caution on the part of government officials as we wait to learn what, exactly, this means and whether there is any reason for concern. Back to you, Andrew.”

My eyes narrowed as I stared at the screen, not really paying attention when Andrew turned the spotlight over to the sports anchor, who immediately began droning on about the local college football teams.

Was this why Faris had hired me?

And what did that reporter mean by “Idrian leaders from all over the country”? Did she have any idea what she was talking about, or was this just humans catching wind of a rumor and running with it?

I needed to find out. Because the very last thing I could afford was to run into someone who might recognize me or the kids. Someone who might have reason to know what I’d done.

At least I had a bit of time to figure out the truth. And if this “Symposium” actually posed a danger to our safety, maybe I could fake being sick for a few days.

This might not be bad news, I reminded myself fiercely. It had nothing to do with us. We were safe now. Out of reach of the courts.

We were embarking on a new life, and no matter what I had to do to make it reality, we would not be fugitives forever.

The sun was setting as I headed out, walking back down Sheridan Avenue towards The Portal in my new uniform. Sadly, black made my hair even more eye-catching, so for the walk I covered it with a dark ball cap and wore one of my flannel shirts as a jacket.

The Bricktown area was considerably busier than it had been during the afternoon. Pedestrians, streetcars, pedicabs, and even a horse-drawn carriage clogged the streets. Which was perfect for me—even though I clearly wasn’t dressed for a night on the town, it was far easier to blend in with the crowd. No one spoke to me, or even seemed to notice me until I slipped in through the back door of The Portal and looked around, hoping either Nico or the Irene he’d mentioned would greet me.

I was out of luck.

Instead, I was greeted by a slender, slightly stooped, gray-skinned man—a gargoyle in his human form—who gazed at me with a fixed expression of disdain. He wore a velvet smoking jacket over loose linen pants, while his feet were clad in a pair of fuzzy slippers. And on his shoulder…

I was still staring in confusion when he folded his arms and glared at me sternly.

“Who are you?” the gargoyle demanded, as the hairless pink blob on his shoulder shifted and yawned, revealing sharp white teeth and a pink tongue. Apparently it was a cat—a very hairless cat.

“I’m Raine,” I told him, wondering whether I’d accidentally gone in the wrong door. “I was just hired today. I’m supposed to ask for Irene.”

“Hmph,” was his clearly irritated response. “I will take you. Touch nothing.”

Apparently, the Waffles test was only one of the intensely weird things happening at The Portal.

I followed the gargoyle—and the cat’s twitching tail—down a narrow hallway, past several doors and a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. From ahead, I could hear voices and the upbeat melodic buzz of music—either a DJ or a live band.

We went through a swinging door to the left, into a tiny kitchen area, where a tall, slender woman with green hair seemed to be bending the laws of physics. A dryad. Pretty sure she only had two arms, but she was working so fast, she appeared to have four. Maybe six.

“What is it, Hugh?” She didn’t even turn around, so I wasn’t sure how she knew who it was. Did dryads have telepathy? Seemed like something I should know.

“I believe you have acquired an assistant,” Hugh answered, in a voice of distaste that suggested he would rather acquire a nasty head cold.

The dryad still didn’t turn around. “Nachos for bar eight, hummus platter for table seventeen.”

I gaped at her back for a moment. “I’m sorry?”

“I’ll have the cheese tray for twenty-three in half a minute. The salmon dip for thirty-seven will be late, but that’s because I tripped over that infernal creature and dropped the first batch.”

Here she finally shot a look over her shoulder at Hugh, who drew himself up and glared in evident offense.

“Chicken is not a creature ,” he spat. “He is a highly intelligent representative of his species who happens to enjoy the taste and smell of fish. He cannot be blamed for responding to such stimuli when he is hungry.”

“Then I’ll blame you for letting him anywhere near the kitchen in the first place,” Irene bit out, her large, dark eyes narrowing in dislike. “Now both of you get out, and take these plates with you!”

With that, she shoved an enormous plate full of chips topped with cheese, beef, jalape?os, tomatoes, sour cream, and guacamole into my hands, followed by a platter of cut veggies and crackers with a bowl of creamy hummus in the middle.

The smell almost made me stop to wipe the drool off my face—I hadn’t eaten anything but pre-packaged food in weeks—and that wasn’t even my biggest problem.

I was still wearing my hat and my flannel shirt and I had zero idea where I was expected to go.

But I also wasn’t about to fail on my first day. Maybe this was a test to see how I responded under pressure. Maybe Faris was watching to see whether I planned to stab anyone.

For the record, the gargoyle was currently the leading candidate.

But thankfully, I had plenty of experience making things up as I went.

Setting the plates down on the stainless steel table that dominated the center of the kitchen space, I whipped off my hat and flannel shirt and hung them on a hook beside the door. At the nearest sink, I washed my hands quickly but thoroughly, then I picked up the plates again and moved resolutely towards the other door. Not the one I’d come in through, but the one that probably led out into the main area of the nightclub.

My hands, of course, were full, so I pushed through it with my hip and stopped dead as I took it all in.

There was the bar to my right. The stage further down the room. The tables and booths just as I remembered them.

But instead of a quiet space defined by polished wood and brass, the smell of spirits, and the spill of daylight through the top of the front windows, it was now a seething ocean of noise and chaos.

Idrians of every size and shape filled the room, some of them shoulder to shoulder at the bar, others twisting and bouncing on the dance floor in time with the pulsing rhythm of a pixie band. Lights flashed in odd patterns, laughter rose and fell, and after I sucked in a single breath, every muscle in my body froze in alarm.

Oh crap. Not now. But it was too late for regrets. The sound seemed to take the form of a giant hand that squeezed my chest until my breath came in short gulps. My hands trembled. The plates wobbled…

“Whoa there. Are you okay?” The shaggy-haired shapeshifter behind the bar paused in his mixing to look at me with evident concern.

“I’m fine,” I gritted out, shooting him a fake smile as I fought for control. I was not going to let this win. Not today. “Just tell me what Irene meant by bar eight and table seventeen.”

Seamus’ right eyebrow shot up. “She just shoved you out here and told you to wait tables?”

“That seems to be accurate, yes.” I grimaced. “To be fair, she never turned around, so I’m not even sure she knew who she was barking orders at.”

The bartender began muttering what I was fairly certain were curses under his breath. “Tables are numbered starting at the kitchen door, bar seats the same way. Booths are tens, tables are twenties. The high tops at the front are thirties, left to right. Most of what we serve are appetizers for the table, so we’ll worry about seat numbers later.”

I could remember that. “Thanks, Seamus.” I managed to relax enough muscles to offer him a friendly, confident smile, though the confidence part was ninety percent bluffing.

He looked a little startled—probably because I’d remembered his name—but shot me an approving nod. “Don’t worry if you make a mistake. Most folks are pretty easygoing.”

And truthfully, they were, for the most part. I delivered both food and drinks, rubbed shoulders with shapeshifters, pixies, goblins, a naiad, and a few that I was pretty sure were elementals. And generally, they ignored me. I was glared at a few times for mixing up orders, nearly had my head taken off by a troll dancing a little too enthusiastically, but I managed. I was even pleasantly surprised when several of them handed me generous tips.

All told, I was feeling pretty pleased with myself when Irene shoved a giant platter of sandwiches into my hands. “This one’s for the card room,” she said, with a significant glance that seemed to convey some sort of need for caution. “Get drink orders while you’re in there.”

Taking orders was something I hadn’t tried yet, but why the heck not? I’d faked my way through so far, so I pretended to be completely unintimidated by the request. “Sure thing. Uh… which one is the card room?”

“Left end of the bar,” Irene called over her shoulder.

The room where I’d done my “interview.”

Maybe that’s where Faris was hiding. I hadn’t seen him all evening, but I figured he had to be around here somewhere. Keeping an eye on his new employee to make sure she didn’t stab anyone. Actually, every time I thought about it, I felt a little stabby, so maybe he’d been onto something.

I was carrying the platter in both hands, but the door to the card room was closed and I couldn’t just bump it open with my hip. So I balanced the sandwiches on my left hand, opened the door with my right, and took a step into the dimly lit room.

Looked up.

Four pairs of eyes locked on mine—three men and a woman. I heard a growl, and then two of the men shot to their feet, turning and heading towards me as if to confront a threat.

Adrenaline surged. The platter went flying. Shards of glass mingled with bits and pieces of fallen sandwiches as I crouched slightly and angled my body to the side, making myself a smaller target while balancing my weight over the balls of my feet. Both of the men facing me were absurdly tall and fit, so I wouldn’t have much hope of winning in a fight. Not without losing control of my magic, which I had sworn never to do again.

My only chance was the door.

Heart pounding, my breath a harsh rasp in my ears, I took a slow step back, bending towards the floor to scoop up a piece of the broken platter. Better than no weapon at all.

“Raine, are you all right?”

A third figure came to her feet and took a cautious step towards me.

“Kira, wait.” The last of the room’s occupants caught her arm. “I don’t think she sees you. Give her a moment.”

No one moved.

“Raine, it’s Kira. We met earlier today.”

My eyes finally focused on the petite, red-haired woman in the center of the group. On her kind but concerned expression.

“Don’t worry,” she said soothingly. “These guys are just overprotective and sometimes growl before they think, but you’re safe here.”

Kira. Who was somehow related to Faris. She belonged here. And I’d panicked and almost attacked her guests with a makeshift knife.

Well, crap.

I looked down. The shard of broken platter was cutting into my hand, so I opened my fingers and watched with dismay as the blood spread across my palm.

“I… I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, ducking my head to stare at the floor. “I…” There was no easy way to explain this. Not without revealing a lot more than I was comfortable with. I was going to have to lie again, and no matter how often my life had forced me into it, I hated to lie. Especially to those few people I actually liked, and Kira seemed almost ridiculously likable.

“I guess… I just panicked.”

In truth, it was a lot worse than panic. It was sheer, ironclad instinct, in response to what my body had assumed was an immediate threat. I’d hoped that being free would enable me to control those reactions better, but clearly, they were still in the driver’s seat. It was honestly a miracle I hadn’t lashed out with magic instead.

“Drop the weapon!” A rumbling voice cut through the haze of my frustration. I heard footsteps approaching, so I let the bloody makeshift dagger fall to the floor amidst the mingled remains of sandwiches and platter alike.

Then I looked up. And up some more. One of the men was standing right in front of me. I saw a defined chest and broad shoulders in a crisp, dark button-down shirt. Above them was a chiseled jaw, recently shaven but wearing the slightest shadow of a beard. A little higher, and then I was drowning in oddly familiar pools of amber fire.

It was the gorgeous shapeshifter I’d seen on the curb outside.

And he was looking downright murderous.