Page 155 of Shades of Silver City

Archer leads me to his bike, then starts pulling out the helmets. “We might never know, Tasia. If I had to guess? Obsession. Vengeance, even? Maybe he was as obsessed with your father as your father was with the fae. Arlo did buy Mesmeric, after all. He found a way to remake dreamdust, albeit years later. He wanted your father’s research—his daughter, his lab, and who knows what else.”

He puts Scathe’s helmet on, and the hound jumps into the sidecar.

“Why, though?” I ask, unsatisfied with the few vague answers we’ve received. And with Arlo dead, I’ll likely never understand.

“Obsession is a scary thing. It causes us to act irrationally. It’s like a current pulling us along, and all we can do is swim with it, hoping it doesn’t drown us.”

“Spoken like someone familiar with it,” I whisper as I take the helmet from him and slip it on.

“I’m very familiar,” he mutters, swinging a leg over his bike. “Come on, let’s get some rest. We need to meet up with Pixel and Godric downtown as soon as we can.”

I climb onto the bike and wrap my arms around Archer, nestling against him. Exhaustion weighs on my bones.

As we weave through the backroads toward the city, my mind wanders.

Before I know it, we’re parking the bike and heading into his mom’s old apartment. The place is tidier than it was before, the books arranged in neat stacks again, and the kitchen floor glistens.

I shudder, remembering the blood that stained it—and my hands—the last time I was here.

Before I can hyperfixate, Archer leads me to the bathroom. We clean ourselves up, then proceed to his bed, where we fervently and gratefully explore every bit of each other’s skin. Afterwards, we cuddle, whispering our appreciation for one another as we succumb to a much-needed sleep.

The next day we head to the Underground to meet with the crew.

I hear Godric before I see him. “I swear to the Gods, Pixie, if you don’t give me that bastard’s name, I’ll find it myself.”

“Just give it to him, Pix,” another man says.

We enter a room with actual flooring and walls, equipped with tons of nondescript electronics and a wall of computer screens. It’s less like a cave or derelict house and more like a legitimate office. Godric has a chair pulled up beside Pixel in the corner, and he’s staring at her intensely while she clacks away on a keyboard.

The prominent scent of weed draws my attention to a guy who’s leaning against a wall nearby. It’s the same guy from Godric’s apartment, with that unforgettable green mohawk.

“Zeke.” Archer nods at him. “There’s not enough ventilation down here for that.”

“Sorry, boss, was just takin the edge off,” he says, taking another long drag from his joint before using his fingers to snuff it out. His bracelets jingle as he wipes his hands on his skintight jeans. His eyes swing to me. “Oh shit, where are my manners? You want a hit? I can relight it real quick. If the Phantom don’t mind.”

Archer sighs, rubbing his forehead.

I shake my head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Godric stands, meeting us in the middle of the room. “I wasn’t about to tell him to put it out. Not after the shit we saw the other night.” He grunts. “Figured there’s more important shit to fight about.”

“Appreciate that, Ricky,” Zeke says, joining us.

“Shut the fuck up with that nickname,” Godric mutters.

So much for not fighting.

Zeke chuckles, reaching for a hit of his joint before seeming to remember he put it out.

My mind wanders back to the night of the masquerade. The tragedy at Splendor Hall. I vaguely remember Godric saying he and Zeke would go back and investigate. I shudder, thinking of what the scene looked like when we left. I can’t even imagine how horrible it must’ve been at the end.

Archer frowns, running a hand over his jaw. He strides over to Pixel, and I follow him. “Anything?” he asks.

“Hey, Arch,” she smiles up at him, and then her eyes shift to me. “Hey! We haven’t officially met, by the way. It was kinda chaotic the other day. I’m Pixel. I’d shake your hand, but uh…kinda busy.” She keeps typing even as she talks to us, and this time I can’t help but laugh.

“Tasia.” I nod. Her eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles, and the warmth there eases my nerves. When her focus returns to the screen, I notice the tattoo on the back of her hand—the skull with a worm. I’m pleased to meet another important person in Archer’s life. “You’re the one who keeps these guys in check, huh?”

She snorts a laugh. “Not by choice.”

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