Chapter 37

”The majority of individuals exhibit a persistent and invariant shade. However, recent research showcases a capacity for alteration and adaptability…”

-Excerpt from the personal journal of Dr. Claude Foster, Director of Faeology at Mesmeric Labs

EPILOGUE

FANTASIA

Two months go by, and Arlo doesn’t make an appearance. Pixel stays glued to her screens, running all sorts of programs to search for his face and track the web for chatter about him. Other than rumors about his unusual disappearance during his bid for High Chancellor, nothing interesting comes up.

We successfully distributed small samplings of my antidotal blood through the public water system, which minimized the amount of dreamdust deaths, while the Nightcrawlers worked to clear the streets of the remaining dust. Other than the increased presence of Silver Scouts, and the same lingering injustices, things are going pretty okay.

“Maybe you should try to get the Ministries’ backings,” I say, rubbing Archer’s shoulders after a long day of helping people move. He finally convinced a dozen or so cityfolk to move off the street and into his mother’s old building. Glamour-free, I might add.

I’m glad the space isn’t going to waste.

Now, we sit in the newly furnished lobby while the new tenants—for lack of a better term, since Archer is charging them nothing—get situated in their rooms upstairs. Cleaning, remodeling, and moving has been a massive undertaking, and we’re all beat.

Archer moans, leaning his head back in pleasure as my fingers continue to knead his flesh.

“Get a room, you assholes,” Godric mutters from a nearby ladder, where he screws in a new lightbulb. “We’re in public.”

Pixel giggles from a table across the lobby, where she curls over her laptop and types furiously.

“Shut up, jerk!” I call to Godric. “You’re just jealous no one wants to touch your grumpy body.”

Godric snorts. Archer shakes his head, reaching back to grab my hand. He turns his head and places a tender kiss on my palm. “What’d you say about the Ministries?” he mutters, continuing to pepper me with kisses.

“Edict twenty-four,” I say. “If you get at least eighty percent of the Ministries to back you, you can run for High Chancellor.”

He laughs, shifting on the couch and pulling me toward him until I sit between his legs with my back to him. His fingers begin working the knots in my shoulders, and immediately I see why he moaned the way he did.

Gods, his hands feel so good.

“Why are you wearing this?” he asks, giving the sleeve of my hoodie—or rather, his hoodie—a gentle tug. “It’s hot out.”

I shake my head. “I’m comfy. Plus, I like that it smells like you. So, Chancellor?” I tease.

He chuckles. “Who says I want to run for Chancellor?”

“Uh, you’d be the best man for the job, Arch. Are you kidding me?”

“She’s got a point.” Godric descends from the ladder, moves it over a few feet, and climbs back up to repair another light fixture. His eyes flick to Pixel in the corner, and I don’t miss the way his gaze softens as he watches her work. A small smile forms on my lips. As if he can tell I’m staring at him, he turns his attention to me and narrows his eyes. “What’re you looking at?”

“Oh, nothing.” I smirk. “Hey, Pixel?”

Godric’s gaze turns murderous.

“What’s up?” she says, looking up from the computer screen and adjusting her glasses.

I let Godric sweat in the silence that stretches, let him worry that I’ll make a joke about his little crush and embarrass him.

But I figure it’s not my place to intervene with a blossoming love. Especially when it’s one-sided.

“Wouldn’t Archer be the best man for High Chancellor?” I ask instead.

Godric rolls his eyes and chuckles. I love giving him a hard time, considering he gives Archer such a hard time.

“Oh yeah,” she agrees. “I tell him that all the time. He basically runs the city as it is. It would be the same job but in a more legitimate capacity. He’d wield power to make change from beyond the city shadows.”

“See?” I say, tilting my head to the side to give my boyfriend a gentle kiss. “We all agree.”

He hoists me off his lap and sets me gently down beside him. His hand comes to rest naturally on my thigh. “I don’t know that I’d get the backing I need.”

“Archer,” I mutter. “Glamour.”

Pixel chuckles.

“I’d want to win the fair way,” he says. “A legitimate challenge. With the backing of the Ministries and the cityfolk.”

“So you have thought about it,” I tease.

Before he can respond, the front door creaks open. I cringe at the loud noise that echoes through the lobby. That door could use some grease.

Remy slowly steps in, his face stern and unsure. He scans the room, his gaze landing on Godric before shifting to Archer, who stands.

“You again, asshole,” Remy says.

“Remy,” Archer says. “Language in front of the ladies.”

“Finally got a wife?”

Archer looks at me and smirks. “Something like that.”

Wanting to give them some space to talk, I cross the room to where the resident hacker sits. The red hair she had when I met her has faded into a strawberry blonde, and jagged bangs skim across the top of her glasses.

“Hey, Pixel,” I say softly, not wanting to disturb her.

She turns, curiosity burning brightly in her eyes. “What’s up, T?”

I lower my voice even further so the men can’t hear. “Can you…hack bank accounts?”

She squints. “Depends.”

“Not to withdraw anything,” I quickly add. “But to…deposit?”

“Yeah, but why go through all the trouble of hacking for that? It might be quicker and easier to do it the old-fashioned way.”

I bite my bottom lip, thinking of Mellie. The woman I considered a friend for so many years. A woman who deserves a better life than the one she’s living. A woman whose son deserves to grow up strong and healthy.

But sadly, a woman who will never be my friend again. That door closed when she chose to turn me in.

“I, uh, want it to be anonymous,” I say through the knot in my throat.

Pixel mhmms her understanding. “I’ll need their name and the amount of money you’d like to transfer.”

I rattle off Mellie’s information, then say, “All of it. Everything Archer’s paid me.” I tell her the number and give her my bank account information.

Pixel freezes. She glances up at me. “You sure?”

Archer has been paying me the amount he promised, every week since the day we met, despite us being a couple. I told him I didn’t want his money, but he swore he was only paying me for the services I provide the Nightcrawlers. Since I’m one of them now.

I nod. “She needs it more than I do.”

“No wonder he likes you.” Pixel smiles as she works. “You two are perfect for each other.”

A booming laugh catches my attention, and I cross the room in time to hear Remy say, “Well, it’s a good day for you, asshole, cause I’m finally coming home with ya, boy.”

“Glad to hear it,” Archer says, trying to conceal his pleasure. “Godric can show you to an apartment.”

Godric mutters something under his breath, descending the ladder. He hesitantly strides toward Remy, and the two stare at each other with their arms crossed.

“Never mind,” Remy mutters, turning toward the door. “Forget I came. I prefer the streets.”

“Fucking wait,” Godric hisses. Remy pauses with his hand hovering above the handle. “We have shit to talk about. Come on, old man.”

I hold my breath as Remy lowers his hand. Finally he turns to follow his estranged son. The two head toward the elevator and out of sight.

“That’s huge,” I say on an exhale.

A fleeting look of worry crosses Archer’s face. Then it morphs into a small smile. “It’s something.”

We’re coming, Scathe says. Be there in three…two…

The front door groans open again with a loud creak. Scathe bounds in, with Zeke right behind him.

“What is it?” Archer asks in alarm. Understandably so, considering these two are supposed to be working—Zeke in the lab and Scathe downtown, keeping an eye on things.

“Gotta show ya something, boss,” Zeke says with a grin. His mohawk is growing out, flopping over into his face. I don’t know how it doesn’t drive him nuts to constantly have green strands in his line of vision.

“Hey, Zeke!” Pixel calls.

“Little genius,” Zeke responds.

“Tell me why you’re here. What is it?” Archer says, using his stern voice. The one that means business. The one that sends a tickle zipping between my legs.

I bite my lip, tamping down the lust so we can show Archer what we got.

“So…don’t freak out,” I say.

He spins to face me, stress wrinkles on his forehead. When he reaches up to run a hand through his hair, I know we’re really making him nervous.

Zeke and I share a look. I nod, and we both remove our hoodies at the same time. Zeke has a medical bandage about the size of a fist taped to his pec. It matches the one on my left inner forearm.

“What is this?” Archer asks, his gaze flitting between us. Pixel shuts her computer, joining us for the reveal. She, Godric, and Scathe knew what we planned, but no one told Archer.

I wanted to surprise him on his birthday.

Zeke goes first, peeling back the bandage to reveal fresh ink and angry, red skin. It’s an exact replica of the Nightcrawler tattoo. The same one Godric, Pixel, Archer, and the others have on their hands.

“It’s a symbol of solidarity. Of loyalty, bro,” Zeke says, smiling at Archer. “I mean, boss. Bro-boss.”

“You idiot,” Archer mutters, but he’s smiling too.

“Couldn’t do it on the hand. Public job and all.”

“Tattoo or not, you’ve always been one of us.” Archer places a hand on Zeke’s shoulder, pulling him in for a side hug. Finally, Archer turns to me, his eyes blazing. “You, too?”

“Not exactly.” I bite down on my lip to keep from smiling as I pull back the bandage on my arm. Unlike Zeke, who got his tattoo done only moments ago, I got mine done yesterday. The skin isn’t as irritated as it was, but the ink is just as vibrant.

“Holy shit,” Archer whispers when I reveal the whole thing.

At his cursing, my laughter breaks free. “You like it?”

“I love it, baby.” He steps forward, cupping my cheeks in his hands. “Come here,” he mutters, planting kisses all over my face.

I told you he’d like it, Scathe says.

No, you tried to talk me out of it, mutt, I reply.

When Archer pulls back, he grips my hand gently, pulling my arm up to inspect the tattoo. “That’s why you were being weird about my hoodie. You were hiding this from me, huh?”

“Yep.” I grin, glancing at my arm, still pleased with how it came out.

Instead of a skull with a worm crawling out of the eye socket, my skull has colorful caterpillars crawling out of the eye sockets and a gorgeous butterfly—already transformed—flitting away. It complements Archer’s Nightcrawler tattoo as well as the larger one on my thigh connecting them, morphing them both into something hopeful.

“So, I gotta show you something, too.” Archer’s cheeks turn pink as he scratches the back of his head. He reaches for the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and revealing a tiny butterfly on his hip, right above the waistband of his jeans.

I gasp, tracing the ink with my fingers. His tattoo is fully healed, as if it’s been there for a while. But there’s no way. I would’ve seen it yesterday morning when I had him naked in bed.

“When the hell did you get this done?”

“This morning.” He grins adorably at me, looking pleased with himself. “Superfast healing, remember?”

“You asshole.” I laugh, gently shoving his shoulder.

“You’re even sassier than Scathe, you know, and that’s saying something.” Before I can respond, he says, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Scathe growls, and Archer chuckles. He gently kisses the back of my hand and murmurs, “You’re perfect the way you are.”

“You’re not really the asshole I once thought you were, are you?”

“Oh, I absolutely am.” He smirks. “I’m only an asshole for you, never to you.”

My smile grows as I shake my head.

He clears his throat, and his features harden into something more serious. “It’s you and me, baby,” he says. “I love you.”

That’s my cue, Scathe says.

In my peripheral, I catch the hound leaving the room with Zeke and Pixel. But I keep my attention fully locked on Archer, on the life-changing words he chose to utter for the first time. Right here, right now, on his birthday, in the newly renovated lobby of the apartment he grew up in. With all of our friends around, after a streak of recent accomplishments in the city.

It’s too perfect.

Too right.

I’m scared I misheard him.

“What’d you say?” I whisper, staring into Archer’s kind, gold eyes. My heart flits faster than a hummingbird’s wings, and suddenly all the joking and teasing melts out of my body.

I’m desperate to hear those words again.

I need them more than I need the air in my lungs.

He places his palm on my cheek, gently tilting my head back and leaning forward until his mouth hovers above mine. “I said, I love you, Fantasia Foster,” he whispers across my lips.

“I love you, too, Archer Acciai.” I smile into his lips, not quite kissing him yet, blinking back joyous tears.

“I hope you know that I’d do anything for you.” He lowers his voice. “And I mean anything.”

Our bodies are so close that his golden soul-shade practically wraps around me. I’m so used to it that I don’t pay extra attention…until the aura wavers in color. It flickers, deepening in color until it’s almost brown.

I blink, and it’s gold again.

Sighing in relief, I press my lips to Archer’s. I’m seeing things. It was only a trick of the lighting.

Because Archer has the kindest heart I know.

The purest soul I know.

Nothingcould corrupt him.