Page 105 of Shades of Silver City

“I’m sure you enjoy tying up your victims and pounding them into their next life, but no thanks,” she says without missing a beat.

Red sparks flare to life in my vision as I turn my narrowed gaze to Godric. He gives me a sly wink, clearly enjoying the emotions he’s riling up.

“Not your girlfriend, I thought,” he teases.

“What?” Tasia asks, peering over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” I say through gritted teeth. “Godric was just apologizing for his uncultivated manners.”

Godric turns back to Tasia. “Sorry for being forward.” He covers another laugh with a cough. “I’m sure Archer might make an exception…for you.”

I sigh, giving Tasia an apologetic look. It’s been a long while since I’ve seen this playful—infuriating—side of Godric. It’s bittersweet. I’m glad it’s returning, but now is also not the time.

Tasia smiles sweetly, and a bolt of desire goes through me once again.

“I assure you, I enjoy pleasure in all forms,” I say, letting her interpret my words however she chooses. Then I clear my throat, veering the conversation back to what we were discussing earlier. “Godric, follow up with Zeke. See how much it’ll cost to expedite the results. I’m sick of waiting.”

We’ve had no updates from the medical examiner on whether the substance in the last victim’s body matches the dreamdust. It’s been a few days, and that’s beyond long enough.

“Yes, boss,” Godric says, pulling out his phone immediately.

Tasia watches me carefully—excitement, intrigue, and joy playing out on her face. After a moment, she averts her eyes, rubbing her arm nervously.

“Let’s do the damn thing,” she says.

I offer her an arm. “Shall we?”

I’ve always wondered if politicians have souls. Now I’ll get to find out.

"Color is associated with electromagnetic radiation of a certain range of wavelengths visible to the human eye. The spectrum visible to humans is much more limited than what is available to the fae.”

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

CHAPTER 24

FANTASIA

Splendor Hall is twenty minutes north of Archer’s house in Sweetcreek. Godric is driving us in his SUV, which has freshly repaired—and reinforced—windows.

When we got into the vehicle, Archer slid into the back seat beside me instead of sitting up front with Godric, and the resulting flutters in my stomach caught me off guard. His presence has me on high alert. I’ve never been so attuned to someone before. Every time he shifts, my breath hitches. It’s as if my body is secretly hoping for contact with his.

After what we’ve been through the past few days, there’s no going back to being just friends. At least not for me. Pretending to be his date—when I want nothing more than to truly be his date—is excruciating, and the event hasn’t even begun yet.

Neither man has said a single word for the entire ride. I stare out the window, watching the colorful houses and landscapes whiz by. It’s so…empty and quiet in this part of the city. Unlike the PD, which is filled with constant ruckus and chaos, the streets are mostly deserted, the yards empty.

This is eerie.

Turning to Archer, who’s staring straight ahead through the windshield, I study his profile for a moment. As if he can sense the heat of my gaze burning into him, his eyes snap to mine. The wrinkles lining his forehead slowly soften, and his lips curve up slightly on one side.

I twist my hand in my skirts and wiggle around, adjusting myself in the seat.

Archer’s soft expression morphs into a frown. Leaning in so his breath tickles the shell of my ear, he says, “Nervous?”

I shake my head.

“You’ll be great.” The heat of his breath causes all the little hairs on the back of my neck to prickle, and I try to repress an involuntary shudder.

As if I wasn’t already nervous, now I’m a wreck.

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