Chapter 9

Midas was aware that, as the future Potentate of Atlanta, Hadley had signed on the dotted line to throw herself headlong into danger. But oh how he wished she didn't have such excellent aim.

Midas loved Atlanta. It was home. His family was here. His friends were here. His roots were here.

But he would be lying if he claimed it hadn't occurred to him that he could strike out like his sister, Lethe, and expand the Kinase pack network by establishing his own in a quiet city far from here.

Maybe on an island. In the Pacific. Guarded by sharks. With laser beams attached to their heads.

As far as dreams go, it had potential, but reality burst his bubble if he thought too hard about logistics.

He could never rob his mother of her heir, not after she lost Lethe, and he would rip out his own heart before he made Hadley sacrifice hers by choosing between him and her duty.

"Okay." Hadley tossed her phone onto the seat between them, slumping as it left her hand. "We've got pack and pride backup en route."

No one else could have made those asks and had them answered with a yes. "Any other calls to make?"

"The OPA is on standby, Linus is watching the show via his direct feeds, Tisdale is moving her people into position. The Clairmont, Loup Garou, and Kingsman alphas know to coordinate with Bishop." She raked her fingers through her hair, and curls fell into her eyes. "What am I forgetting?"

Midas tapped her cell with his fingertip. "Are you telling Addie and Boaz?"

Their names shut down her expression, and her eyes darkened with determination. "No."

As much as he hated picking at old wounds, he had to keep this one from festering.

"You don't think," he began, "they deserve to know what you're risking by going into the archive?"

"The less they know, the safer they are." She flinched when he struck the nerve, but she set her jaw. "I'm not involving them again."

"You didn't involve them last time." He took her clammy hand in his. "The coven did."

"Let's think of it as an exercise in confidence." She scooched closer and rested her head against his shoulder, the scent of her engulfing him. "I'm so sure we're going to win the day, I don't need to inform my next of kin." Her arm threaded through his, linking them, and his inner beast relished the contact. "Oh, that reminds me. I have a playdate with Macon next week."

The announcement sideswiped him, as she had known it would, and he began to understand why she had wrapped herself around him. She didn't want to give him an avenue of escape, not that he had anywhere to go while they were in the back of Remy's car.

"This is not a trap." She laughed at what she saw in his expression. "Boaz called me crowing like a rooster the second the guardianship paperwork for our little brother hit his palms."

Erring on the side of caution, Midas kept his mouth shut while he waited for the other shoe to drop.

"He explained to me about Mother's change of heart and her sudden desire to relocate. He was fuzzy on the details of how this transformation occurred, what sparked this burst of personal growth, and he thought I could enlighten him. Funny thing was, I had no idea what he was talking about, but I could guess where my mother got the idea our lives would all be improved without her in them."

Anyone who had ever met Matron Pritchard would agree her daughter's life was better without her in it. The same could be said, to a lesser extent, of her sons. Midas only cared that Hadley was rid of her. For good.

"Your mom." A soft smile, bordering on hopeful, warmed her face. "She handled it, didn't she?"

Finally, a question he felt comfortable answering. "Yes."

"You're not asking any questions," she said, amusement in her tone, "so you knew."

There was nothing for it but to tell her the truth. He refused to lie to his mate, even to save his own hide. "I did."

"You didn't tell me." A line bisected her forehead. "Why not?"

"I wasn't involved in the arrangements. I found out after the fact. That's no excuse, but it put me in a tight spot." He should have told her the second he learned of it, the night she agreed to marry him, but he had wanted to keep her all to himself. "I didn't want to give you hope if it fell through. I know how much you miss Macon, and I wasn't sure the threats Mom made would stick after Matron Pritchard got clear of Atlanta."

The wrinkle smoothed itself out, and her hold on him relaxed by degrees. "I figured."

Daring to hope, Midas watched her face when he asked, "You're not mad?"

"Right now, I'm too happy at the prospect of seeing my little brother again to care how it happened or what the repercussions might be down the line." She made a contented sound. "This falls under the umbrella of things we should always make time to discuss going forward, but I'm willing to give you a one-time pass."

"Next time," he said, relief heavy in his voice, "I promise I'll tell you."

"I know you will." She grinned up at him. "Or you'll spend the next month sleeping on the couch."

"It is a comfortable couch."

"Maybe," she agreed, "but I won't be on it."

The southernly drift of her hand down his stomach clued him in to what else he would be missing out on if he made the same mistake twice.

"The warehouse." He caught her wrist, unable to think with her touching him that way, and moved her hand to safer territory. "How are you getting in?"

"Ambrose and I smashed the wards before." Pouting, she let him set her palm on his chest. "We could again."

"It would cost you time and put you out in the open," he countered. "It would make you an easy target."

"So, it's not ideal."

"To put it mildly."

She leaned forward and snagged a backpack from the pile in the front seat.

"Hey." Remy popped her hand. "That one's mine."

"They're all identical."

"This one and I have bonded during our brief time together."

"Okay then."

Hadley chose another and transferred the necromantic supplies from her cross-body bag into its front pocket.

Once she finished, Midas nudged her, determined to make her stop and think. "Any other ideas?"

"Wards degrade as powerful magic users cross their threshold, and that's been happening for several hours minimum at the warehouse. Even if the practitioners were mid-level, lump enough of them together, and the power signature is the same." She turned thoughtful. "The coven could raise and lower the wards each time, they have the numbers, but it would be exhausting on their schedule."

The light in her eyes tempted him to hope. "What are you thinking?"

"The coven dropped the wards to let their people move freely between the archive, the warehouse, and their transportation to downtown. I'm willing to bet they kept them down. It's the smart thing to do. It's not like they need them. They have the manpower to protect the archive." A smile spread across her face. "Heavy-duty wards like those aren't exactly welcome mats. They're meant for security when no one is home."

"Okay." He waited a beat, but she fell silent. "When do you get to the good news?"

"Um." She squinched her eyes. "That was the good news. No wards. One less thing, right?"

"Optimism." From the driver seat, Remy chortled with glee. "I love it."

Availing himself to the expert sneak in their midst, he posed Remy a question. "How would you do it?"

"Very carefully." Remy sobered. "No wards aren't the same as a free pass."

The somber twist of her mood made him curious if she was worried too. "Can you get in?"

"I can get in." She rolled her eyes at him. "I don't know if I can get Hadley in, if that's what you mean."

There was room for interpretation there, and he was curious. "Your infiltration skills are magic-based?"

"Experience-based." She flashed her needle teeth at him in the rearview mirror. "I earned them."

As was the case with most fae or those with fae blood, himself included, he didn't share his age often. Immortals and near immortals held different views on time, perspectives on life, on its immediacy.

There was a weight to the air when Remy dropped her youthful guise and allowed her true self to surface that told him she far outstripped him. Humans could master a skill if they dedicated their lives to its pursuit, and fae were no different. Except the span of their existence encompassed infinite human lives' spent perfecting what they did best.

He heard no lies in her claim to have earned her skills, and he believed in her dedication to her craft.

"I can be sneaky," Hadley said, affronted. "I can be quiet."

Midas bit the side of his cheek and kept his mouth shut, amused when Remy did the same.

"Okay, so I'm not fae-sneaky or fae-quiet." She harrumphed. "I still got this."

"We don't have much choice except for you to try," Remy teased. "Guess we'll see."

Guess we'll seewasn't exactly comforting to an alpha personality with a predator lurking under his skin, least of all where a covert mission and the safety of his mate was concerned.

"Last chance to use the little girls' or boys' room." Remy turned into a gas station. "We walk from here."

The OPA had briefed her on the warehouse's location and given her a copy of its schematics to study. Based on her review, she had chosen a spot five miles away from the warehouse to park. The gas station didn't offer much in the way of cover, but it ought to protect her ride until they were done.

They climbed out, Remy and Hadley slid into their packs, and he carried the rest looped over a forearm.

Ambrose kept a wary eye on the procession, more alert than Midas had ever seen him, and less interested in sniping easy meals too. The truce he had called with Hadley might be genuine, or it might be a long con, but either way, he appeared determined to play out the charade.

He wasn't too worried about Ambrose killing her, since the bindings would destroy him too, but that didn't mean he couldn't hurt her. Especially when access to large reservoirs of power, like the archive, gave him the ability to manifest independent of her.

The shadow turned his head toward Midas, as if he could guess the direction of his thoughts.

Midas inclined his head, not bothering to smooth away his glare, and Ambrose lost interest in him.

The first mile passed in uneventful silence. The second was much the same, except for the worsening smell. The third made his skin prickle with the steady wash of dark magic across him. The fourth shoved him, as if he had braced his shoulder against a wall and was attempting to push a building out of his way.

"Looks like this is as far as you go." Hadley caught his arm and pulled him back from the barrier. "You don't need to tire yourself out getting closer. Save your strength for when you need it. I doubt Ford or Hank could manage even this far. It's better if you stay where they can easily reach you."

"I don't like this." He hadn't meant to say it, but it was no less true. "I don't want to let you go."

For myriad reasons, but the biggest one was how her entering Faerie while he stayed behind smacked of cowardice on his part. As if she was the one facing his past while he was too afraid to revisit it.

"Me neither." She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. "I don't want to go in there, the building or the archive. I don't want to worry about you alone out here. I don't want innocent people to die because the coven views anyone non-coven as acceptable losses. What I want is to go home, kick back, watch a movie, and stuff myself with popcorn."

"I'm game." Remy brightened on the spot. "I get to pick the movie, though."

Midas tightened his hold on Hadley, lowered his head, and breathed in her scent. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"That's why I'm going to let you go," he said, more to himself than her. "You need to do this."

"Yeah." She exhaled, withdrawing. "I do."

"Ugh." Remy walked off a few steps. "Here come the feels." She gagged loudly. "Good thing I don't have any popcorn. I'd hork it up listening to you two."

Ignoring Remy, Hadley rose on her tiptoes and brushed her soft lips across his. "Be safe."

"You be safe." He made it an order. "Come back to me."

"Don't worry." She grinned impishly. "I'm not leaving this world until after I've seen you in Spock ears."

"Actually," Remy interrupted her. "You kind of are. We're going to Faerie, remember?"

"You know what I mean." She rolled her eyes at Remy then refocused on him. "I doubt it will do any good, but I'll keep my phone on me."

"I'll text you when Ford and Hank get here, but your phone won't work in Faerie. I doubt it'll work in the archive. You should power it off once you're in. That ought to insulate it enough to function when you get back if you need to call for a pickup."

"No timer then either. Gotcha. That's okay. We'll wing it." She took a step back. "Wish me luck?"

The overpowering urge to grab her, tuck her under his arm, and run twitched in his fingers. He made a fist to crush the impulse then forced a smile. She would see through it, but she wouldn't call him on it.

"You don't need it." He locked his knees to keep from following her. "You'll do fine."

Nodding, she turned her back on him and walked away.

* * *

Nothing on Earthor in any other realm could have pried Midas from the spot where Hadley left him until she was out of sight. After her scent faded to memory, he retreated a safe distance to wait on Ford and Hank.

The derelict warehouse was hemmed in by trees eager to reclaim the land and choked with overgrowth. He selected one of the taller oaks, climbed as high as his weight allowed, and didn't fool himself when he stared across the expanse between him and the warehouse with his heart in his throat.

His mate was out there. Rushing toward danger. Eager to do battle. Prepared to make sacrifices.

God, he loved her spirit. She would make a fine alpha one day. Midas prayed he lived to see it.

Nights like these, he was certain Hadley would give him a coronary long before then.

Once he settled in at a cross section of limbs, he kept his ears perked and a wary eye on the forest.

No birds sang, no insects chirped. No breeze stirred the leaves, and no moonlight pierced the dark clouds over his head. The sickly-sweet stench of black magic clogged his nose, and bristled fur brushed the underside of his skin in response.

This deep into enemy territory, he couldn't risk a text or call giving away his location. The screen was a danger too, but he trusted the leaves to hide its glare. He settled for checking his silent phone every so often, which, honestly, he would have done anyway.

Fifteen minutes after Hadley and Remy left, Bishop texted him.

>>The hearts are missing.

Heart booming in his ears, he couldn't stop his gaze from swinging toward where Hadley had gone.

>What?

>>The. Hearts. Are. Missing.

>Hadley said you hid them. How were they discovered?

>>I moved them to HQ.

>Why would you do that?

>> It's our most secure location. Less than a dozen people can find it, let alone enter it.

>You, Hadley, me, and Remy passed through tonight. No one else had access?

>>Anca and Reece have been at their computers for the last twelve hours straight. No one could have gotten in or out without being seen. Besides, no one comes to HQ aside from Hadley and me.

>You're saying one of us is to blame.

>>What the hell else could it mean?

>>Hadley is going to Faerie.

>>Maybe she hoped to handle negotiations with Natisha on your behalf while she was there.

Spiderweb cracks spread across the surface of his phone's screen, but his fist refused to unclench.

Take the hearts, seal the deal, and keep Natisha on the right side of Faerie. Away from him. He could see her making that call. With the chaos in Atlanta, the last thing that powder keg needed was a match, and Natisha was a flamethrower.

There was no shortage of coven members out tonight. A seventh heart was hers for the taking.

But after their promise to make time for the hard talks, he believed she would have told him her plan.

Though she might have waited until after she stood safe inside a ward ring he wasn't strong enough to bull through first.

One more obvious choice loomed, but Midas hated to point the finger, even with their fraught past.

>Or Remy is a traitor.

>>Or that.

>We can't send Hadley off alone with her.

>>Who else do we have to send? Know anyone else with a handy dybbuk bond who's available?

The jab shook loose what should have been obvious, and Midas cursed himself for not seeing it sooner.

>>Midas.

>>Answer me, damn it.

>Tell Ford supplies are waiting for him in an oak tree two miles southeast of Gas 'n Go. He can track my phone to get exact coordinates. I'll leave it here. I have no use for it where I'm going.

After he tucked the phone in a pocket as promised, he hung the packs on sturdy limbs.

Crimson magic bathed his limbs as he leaped down. He landed on all fours, shaking out his coat. The black magic stench burned his nose and pinched his lungs, but he had made his choice.

Hadley was in danger, and he wasn't twiddling his thumbs while his mate risked her life a world away.

There were no guarantees Remy wished her ill. There was every chance she had done the exact thing Bishop feared Hadley might have considered, taking the hearts—and their obligation to Natisha—in hand.

But Bishop had reminded him he shared a connection with Hadley that just might save his soul, and he was willing to risk it. For her.