Page 39 of Kiss of Smoke

He was trying really hard to romance her, I had to give him that. He’d even brought her a tiny bouquet of violets that were already wilting.

I wasn’t going to be the one to break his heart and tell him Sisse was all about Jack, though.

"Robin!” she burst out, her wings fluttering with relief and spraying sparkling dust everywhere. “He has a message for you!”

Robin raised an eyebrow at the pixie, who looked about as wilted as his violets at that point. “Which is?”

The poor, besotted pixie abandoned his bouquet and failed romance. “Special Agent Grayfog requires your presence in the Garda complex, sir. They would also like Jack Frost to accompany you.”

I glanced expectantly at Robin, who was already rubbing the bridge of his nose like he had an oncoming headache.

They were going to invite me, right?

But no. My hopes were dashed before I even spoke them aloud.

“Briallen, you and Gwyn stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll give everyone the briefing from Grayfog as soon as we’re back.”

Jack let out a tiny sigh of ice, puffing cold air out in a cloud, and touched my shoulder before he grabbed Robin and whisked him away.

Which left me with Gwyn, who had already shed his funereal jacket, and Sisse, who had taken up a toothpick as a sword and was fending off her fellow pixie with it.

“Okay. That’s enough of that.” I stalked to the kitchen window and slid it upwards, the panes creaking in protest. “Out.”

“But—” the pixie protested, and I pointed to the window.

“You can leave the easy way, or you can leave the hard way.”

Sisse rested the toothpick on her shoulder, smirking triumphantly. “The hard way is through the garbage disposal.”

The pixie went dead white and raced for the window, not dropping so much as a speck of dust behind him.

I slammed the window shut, locked in, and turned to look at Sisse. “Ew, Sisse. That’s absolutely disgusting.”

She shrugged, popping her toothpick back in its jar. “But it got him out of the house, right?”

“Okay. Well, if we ever have to send one out through the disposal,you’recleaning up the mess, not me.” I poured water in a kettle and popped it over Cinders, giving him a chocolate chip to bribe him into flaring up. “Was there any other news while we were out?”

I grabbed a mug out of the cabinet as I spoke, raising one in a silent question to Gwyn. He shook his head, and Sisse flew over to rest on his hand, using his thumb as a backrest.

“Not really. Grayfog is the one Robin put in charge of researching the Unstained Souls’ means of moving throughout the city undetected—he must’ve gotten a hit on something. Possibly something like your ring,” she said contemplatively, watching me rustle through a jar of tea bags. “That would certainly work, although I can’t say I’ve heard of another ring that can spin shadows. Maybe a necklace? But the odds of possessing enough artifacts to move a group as large as the Souls around seems…unlikely.”

I poured the hot water in, gave Cinders another chocolate chip, and sat at the table with my brewing tea. “So what do we do with ourselves now?”

Ididn’tsay aloud that I felt I was being shunted to the back, even though I was Robin’s agent, his own protégée, and by all rights I should’ve been in the complex with him to speak to Grayfog. That was a little too close to whining for my taste.

But Sisse could see clearly through mud, so she reached out and patted my hand. “You know he only wants to keep you safe, Briallen. The incident on Main made it very clear that the Unstained Souls, and possibly the Ghosthand himself, are specifically looking for you.”

“I wasn’t whining about it,” I muttered, stirring sugar in my cup. “But we can’t just sit here and drink tea. It’s a complete waste of time, and we’re good resources. Robin could use us in a way that doesn’t put me directly in the middle of a bunch of Souls. Even reconnaissance would work, Gwyn’s bike can fly. I’d be perfectly safe up there.”

“Well,” Sisse said reasonably, “We don’t know that for a fact. For all we know, some of the Unstained Souls are capable of flight now.”

I groaned. “Lovely. Soon Robin will be keeping me locked in the basement. Why do they wantme, anyway? It’s not like killing me serves a real purpose outside of pissing off Robin…andJack…andGwyn. Oh, and my father, too.”

Gwyn nodded amiably, adjusting his hand so Sisse was more comfortable.

Blessed Branches, I loved a guy who was so delicate with pixies, although I could definitely sense a second crush forming on Sisse’s part.

“Indeed,” she asked, rubbing her tiny chin. “But would that not serve a purpose in itself? We are not unlike humans in some ways—if you were to die at their hands, Robin would not think straight in his thirst for vengeance. He would make stupid decisions and likely die as well.”

---