Page 97 of Shades of Silver City

Godric turns to me, a smug look on his face. “Minds are pliable again.”

“Hmmm.” I consider this for a moment.

Stepping forward, I level my gaze with Roman. “Who gave you orders to arrest Fantasia Foster?”

The man opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes widen as he tries to say something again. He can’t. It’s as if the glamour hasn’t fully worn off… Or perhaps it’s not glamour at all but something more powerful keeping the men from speaking.

“Fae?” I ask Godric. “Or artificial magic?”

“Whatever it is, it’s strong as fuck.”

I can’t imagine the fae would enter the city to glamour a couple of Scouts into hunting a random bartender. There’s something missing here… Artificial magic seems more likely, especially considering how corrupt the city’s elites are. I wouldn’t put it past the High Chancellor in particular to find a way to use magic in his favor.

And there’s only one place that manufactures magic: Mesmeric Labs.

It all leads back to the lab. The dreamdust, Tasia’s magic…

When I went back to the alleyway yesterday, the Scouts were still knocked out, but Godric’s SUV had been broken into. Tasia’s dad’s journal was gone, stolen along with the one she dropped in the scuffle.

Perhaps they assume she knows something about her father, or maybe they think she’s a risk. That she might expose them. It could explain why they want her out of the equation.

Even if these men were glamoured to stay quiet, Godric should be able to use his ability to sense the truth. We might be able to work around it.

I turn my focus to Roman. “Where were you before arresting Fantasia Foster?”

“Mesmeric Labs,” Roman responds.

My jaw tightens, and I lean against the wall, watching with rapt attention as Godric takes over the line of questioning.

“With Paul?”

“Yes.”

“Were you injected with something?”

“No.”

Godric and I exchange a look.

“Who was the last person you talked to at the lab?”

Silence.

“What was the last thing you remember?”

The Scout blinks a few times, as if he’s puzzled. “I—I don’t know.”

“Who are you working with?”

More silence.

Godric takes the gag out of Paul’s mouth, glamouring him into obeying his commands, then repeats the same line of questioning.

We get the same answers.

“Come on, Godric,” I mutter. “We’re going to Mesmeric.”

Leaving the men behind in the makeshift dungeon, we head back to Nightcrawler headquarters to get set up for a nighttime escapade.

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