Page 119 of Shades of Silver City

I left her inside.

Without another word, Godric takes off running toward the building. I let him go. We both know that being around that much death is triggering for me. It could hijack my magic, awakening the power I’ve stifled for so long.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Tasia says, gulping in another big breath and standing up straight. She stares past me, her eyes roaming the stairs as if she’s searching for something. “That guy—the lab owner?”

Arlo Osiander.

The insufferable cad who’s been snatching up an absurd amount of properties around the PD.

Most notably the man who tried to kiss my girl.

“What about him?” I growl.

“He has no soul-shade.” Tasia squeezes my arm tighter. “I think—” She lowers her voice. “I think he’s fae.”

"The city’s heart beats to the rhythm of forgotten songs, but the symphony lies within. Remember, all that glitters is not silver. I shall lay bear the truth in the end.”

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

CHAPTER 28

FANTASIA

Sirens go off in the distance. Alarmed, I glance at Archer. That sound signifies the impending arrival of the Silver Scouts’ armored vehicles.

“Archer…” I say, scanning the streets down below for any sign of them. Panic rises into my throat.

“I know.” He grips my hand tightly.

“Archer!” a feminine voice yells. I turn to see Godric and a short redhead with a soft pink soul-shade—Pixel—exiting the building.

She runs to Archer’s side. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” he says. “Where’s your date?”

“He left me!”

“Fucking Ministry scum,” Godric growls. “I told you, if he hurts you, Pixie, he’s a dead man.”

The siren gets louder, drawing closer, and we all bolt down the rest of the stairs toward Godric’s SUV.

We pile inside, with Pixel up front by Godric, and Archer, Scathe, and me in the back. I rip off my mask, and Archer does the same.

“Go!” Archer yells at Godric. “Get us out of here.”

Seconds later, we’re flying down the street, Godric flooring it.

In the chaos, I can’t help but think of my dad—his final moments, which will always haunt me, but also the words he left behind in his journal.

“Arlo,” I say to Archer, “he’s fae.”

“He owns the lab,” Archer mutters. “Of course.” He facepalms. “Why didn’t we see it earlier?” Then, he leans toward the front seat, saying loudly, “That’s why we couldn’t find a record of Mesmeric’s sale or new ownership. He must’ve glamoured his way in. Of course it’s him!”

“It’s probably how he got into your ma’s apartment,” Godric adds. “He has his own magic. Immunity to glamour himself, likely. He’s powerful, Archer.”

“That’s why the Scouts were impervious to our—” Archer glances at Pixel and cuts himself off.

Interesting. Does she not know about their abilities? Right now, she seems to be in shock, staring disinterestedly out the window.

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