Page 30 of Faithless

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“My parents were called on by gods too,” Gwen said.

I rocked forward, bracing my palms on the table. “Are you serious?”

She nodded. “Lupa first came to me a few years ago. My mission has been ongoing.” Her dark brown eyes traveled over us curiously. “And now it seems to have intersected with yours.”

“We don’t even know what it is,” Torr said. “We just followed Astarte here and were told to wait for you.”

“Ah, yes.” Gwen tilted her head, her smile growing. “It’s fun when you’re only given information in bits and pieces, isn’t it?”

“A fucking blast,” I deadpanned.

“I wish I could tell you more about your own path.” My heart sank when she said that. “But all I know is what I’ve been tasked to give you.” Her eyes darted between us again. “Pardon me for asking, but are you two a couple?”

“No,” Torr and I answered in unison. “No, we’re just friends,” I added to clarify.

Gwen narrowed her eyes, her lips pursing into a frown. “Are you two…close?”

“I mean…” Torr and I shared another look, and my hands folded nervously on the table. “We’ve known each other for thirteen years. He’s basically a member of my family so, yes, you could say we’re close. Platonically.”

“I see.” Gwen’s eyes slid to Lupa, who licked her muzzle and opened her jaws in another doggy smile. “Well, I’m meant to help you get somewhere, and the place you’re going has very strict rules for entry. Depending how uh, trulyplatonicyour friendship is, you may have some difficulty gaining access. Or you may not, I don’t know you well enough to speculate.”

Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at her. “What exactly are you saying?”

Gwen’s shoulders stiffened again, her ramrod posture returning. “You will have to convince the staff at this establishment that you are a married couple.”

11

RORI

“Excuse me?” Torr sputtered. “Married?”

“Notjustmarried, but happily so,” Gwen went on. “This place is a resort that appears to cater to honeymooning newlyweds.”

“What the hell are we looking for in a place like that?” I demanded.

“I don’t know,” Gwen said. “I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you. What I can tell you is that this place is very mysterious and exclusive. They don’t publicly say what any of their amenities or attractions are. You have to apply to be a guest, and they’ve never outright said what the requirements are. But the pattern we’ve noticed is that only married couples and single women have had their applications accepted.”

Torr and I fell quiet. “Thatisstrange,” he mused.

“Let me rephrase.” Gwen placed the edges of her hands on the table so that her palms faced each other. “Married couples and single women who can afford it. The other catch is that the cost is very high. Even the application fee is exorbitant and nonrefundable.”

“I have a good nest egg of TCs saved up,” I said.

“Whatever you have won’t be enough,” Gwen said while I tried not to feel insulted. “That’s where I come in. I’m going to sponsor your application and attendance fees. But you two also need to look the part, and I don’t just mean acting like you’re married.” She leaned back, pulling her hands into her lap. “You two need to act and look like you come from wealth. And I meanseriouswealth.”

Torr leaned forward, placing one elbow on the table as he rubbed his jaw. “And who areyou, again? How exactly do you know all this, let alone have the funds to get us in?”

Gwen’s dark eyes hardened. Her perfect posture didn’t crumble under his stare, and my respect for her only increased. It took serious balls to stand up to Torr when he was trying to be intimidating.

“I’m the publicist for a Blakeworth family,” she said. “One of the Elite Eight.”

Ah, so now the perfectly groomed brows and eyelash extensions made sense. The Blakeworth territory was known for having an obscenely wealthy elite class whose favorite past times included flaunting that wealth and crushing anyone beneath them into the dirt. Many of the citizens in Four Corners had been Blakeworth refugees, fleeing the outrageous laws and human rights violations that applied to everyonebutthe elite class.

I knew they were briefly involved in the war my parents had been in. One of my favorite stories was about how Shadow, his brother—my uncle Grudge and his club—and my mom, were wanted fugitives in Blakeworth. The Blakeworth governor had kidnapped my aunt Kyrie, the woman who would become the wife of Grudge, T-Bone, and Dyno, who ran the Sons of Odin MC. They all rescued her on that mission but knew they would be shot on sight if they ever returned.

“So you’re a Blakeworth bootlicker, huh?” Torr’s mouth twisted disdainfully.

“No. That’s just my day job.” To her credit, Gwen kept calm and not at all defensive. “What I’m actually doing, with Lupa,” her gaze slid to the now-sleeping wolf next to her, “is providing resources and escape routes to those carrying all of the elite’s bloat. Therealcitizens.” Her eyes blazed with a passion I hadn’t seen up until that point. “And from the inside, I’m dismantling the elite class, brick by brick.”