Page 130 of Shades of Silver City

Is Archer’s soul-shade still gold after that?

How would it be gold in the first place if he’s a reaper—fae?

Shuddering, I enter the bar. The bell over the door chimes, and Mellie’s head whips up. The smile melts from her face at the sight of me. Unlike the last time I burst in here a hot mess, she doesn’t run over to greet me.

“Tay,” she says cautiously.

“Hey, did you get my text?” My voice comes out too high and squeaky, but I’m trying my best to stay cool. The image of Archer consuming Reed’s soul sits at the forefront of my mind.

Reed is dead.

Archer is a reaper.

It doesn’t make sense.

“You hear me?” Mellie asks, tossing a bar towel onto her shoulder.

My head grows light, and I try to focus on Mellie’s familiar face and push away my panic. “I’m sorry—what?”

My legs move, taking me toward her. It’s like I’m not in control of my body. It’s moving on its own.

“I said I replied.” She places both palms on the bar and leans forward. Some of the patrons lingering at the bar until last call turn toward me in their stools, and several people chatter in a booth to my left, but I pay them no attention. Fumbling with my phone, I unlock it to see her text staring back at me.

Mellie: I don’t hear from u in days and this is what u say

Mellie: Yeah. I have ur bear…

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I try to force a smile. “Oh, no I didn’t see it. I was already on my way here.”

She squints. “You okay?”

Luckily, someone at the bar asks for a refill, so she moves to grab his glass before I can respond.

“It’s upstairs,” she calls to me. “You can head up and grab it.”

Relief softens my tense muscles. “Thanks, Mellie.”

“Make yourself at home. Axel’s with his dad.”

Instead of lingering, I head straight for the stairway leading to Mellie’s apartment. I close the door at the bottom, and make my way up the stairs.

The overpowering stench of spoiled milk slaps me in the face. High ceilings make the studio appear bigger than it actually is, but it holds onto warm air even more than downstairs does. Three windows overlook the bar’s roof and Pub Path down below. They’re open, letting in the sticky late-night air. There’s a daybed with a coffee table beside it. A glass of what looks like curdled milk sits there.

Gagging, I pick up the glass and walk it to the kitchenette, where I dump the disgusting mess out in the sink. I rinse the glass and leave it there.

With a sigh, I turn to survey the space. Clothing is strewn about, along with toys and various empty food containers.

I hadn’t realized that Mellie’s place had fallen into such a state of disarray. My heart pangs with sorrow and guilt as I realize I likely had something to do with this. Without me to help at the bar, she’s probably having to work more, so she has less time to care for herself and Axel.

Spotting my bear on the floor beside the daybed, I stoop to pick it up.

“Finally.” I clutch it to my chest. “I miss you, Dad.”

Just a couple of weeks ago, everything seemed so much clearer. My life was lackluster, yeah, but it was my life. Oh, how everything has changed. A tear slides down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away.

Squeezing the bear tighter, I realize Mellie was right. The old thing sure could use a good stuffing. He’s lumpy as heck.

“Wait,” I murmur.

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