Page 85 of The Enemy to the Living
“We’re not after the twins,” I say. “We just need to find Quinn’s wolf.”
“Asher—”
“We’re going, Vlad. We’re doing this. I’ll see you tonight.”
I hang up and, for good measure, turn my phone off. Paxton sighs and turns his off as well. “We’re gonna be in so much trouble when we get back,” he mutters, still staring ahead at the building.
Next to him, Sparrow snorts. “That is what you are worried about?” they ask.
“Not really,” I reply. “Come on. Let’s get in there.”
Paxton weaves a net of magic that should have us able to slip through the shadows undetected. Sparrow adds some of their own, and my eyes widen at the way the magic sparks and swells as theirs wraps around it.
“You too,” Paxton murmurs.
My blessing doesn’t fight me. It joins the rest, magic weaving together until the net is so tight I’m not sure it can be broken at all.
We slip down the alley, our combined magic pushing back the artificial darkness, and when we find the door, Paxton crouches to pick the lock. It takes him no longer than a minute. Clearly, the twins are relying on their magic above anything else.
It’s not a bad move, but it’s not all that smart, either. If you can beat the wielder, you can beat their magic.
Case in point: the door swings open, and Paxton slips inside first. I gesture for Sparrow to go in ahead of me, so I’m bringing up the rear. Eager as I am, I can’t take point. I’ve got tunnelvision where Quinn’s concerned. Paxton will ensure there’s no threat.
There are no lights on in the bar, so I use my blessing to see through the darkness. No one’s in here. We creep into the room with the cage. No one’s here, either.
Paxton indicates a door at the back of that room. When he waves at it, glancing at me, I swallow and nod. I pull a knife from my boot. Who knows what’s on the other side of that door. It could be the back of this pub they’ve made for themselves, or it could be a portal straight through to the Otherworld.
Well, I don’tthinkit’s the latter. Even I’d be able to feel the magic coming off that.
Paxton pulls open the door and then steps back, ensuring he’s out of reach of any surprise attacks. None come. Sparrow stays low, fangs bared. Paxton signals, then walks down the corridor the door has revealed.
“Careful,” Sparrow mutters before they follow.
The corridor is just as dark as the rest of the pub. It’s long—feels longer than it should, even for a building that’s been magically altered—and for a brief second, I wonder if we might be trapped in here forever.
My blessing doesn’t let out a peep, though. It’s still feeding magic into this net that surrounds us, keeping us hidden.
Another door appears at the end of the corridor. Even with magic helping my vision, I can’t make out much beyond the fact that it’s heavy and wooden and dark. Paxton tries it gently, then kneels to unlock it like he did the front door. I spin my knife in my hand. I don’t use it often, preferring to fight hand-to-hand where I can, but we need to be quick here, and we need to be quiet.
There’s a muted click and Paxton stands again, stowing his lockpick away. He ushers Sparrow back a little way and then swings the door open.
Light floods my vision. I stumble back, squinting, and by the time I feel a surge of magic, Paxton is already on the ground. Sparrow growls, recovering faster than either of us, and bursts into the room ahead of me.
I reach Paxton. His blessing brushes mine. He’s alive, at least, and I’ll check him after, but his eyes are closed, and he’s unmoving.
When I step into the room, Sparrow is grappling with one of the twins. The red-haired one. They’re both hissing, baring their fangs, and Sparrow is quick and brutal with each blow, but the fae pulls on his magic and Sparrow goes down, too.
A blow hits me in the side. I stagger, but there’s no escaping it. Magic wraps around my limbs, and though my blessing flares, trying to fight back, these are high fae and I’m the last of us to be a true threat.
Sparrow lets out a pained groan and goes quiet. The green-haired fae who has me immobile twists his hand, forcing me to my knees. After a moment, the red-haired one joins him.
This is some kind of study, almost, this room. A fire crackles in the fireplace, and I take in the plush armchairs that sit before it.
“You’rethe one who caught the eye of our little wolf,” the green-haired fae says. “Celyn, look at him. Can you imagine?”
Celyn shakes his head. “No need to play, Sorrel. They’ll wake up soon.” He indicates Paxton and Sparrow with a jerk of his chin. Then he looks at me. “This one, then?”
Sorrel smirks. His expression sends a shiver down my spine. I struggle with my invisible bonds but to no avail, and it’s clear from the way both of them are standing that this magic is no strain on them at all.
