Page 136 of Shades of Silver City

How much time has passed? It was almost two in the morning when I made my way to the bar. Before Mellie turned me in. After Archer took Reed’s soul. A sharp pang shoots through my chest.

“See, I was hoping to find my answers in the lab,” he says, “but when I didn’t, I figured you might have the information I seek.” He hmphs to himself. “The journals were useful, but not exactly what I was searching for either.”

My blood runs cold. So it was him behind the UIS blast and the robbery at Archer’s apartment. “What the hell were you hoping to find?”

“His other studies, of course.”

“What other studies?” My confusion must show because Arlo laughs.

“Useless,” he mutters, shaking his head. I frown, racking my brain and trying to connect the dots. Before I can say anything, he continues, “Fitting you would find solace in my brother. You don’t quite fit in with the humans, nor do you fit in with the fae.”

I stare, letting his words sink in.

Brother.

“Archer?” It hits me all at once like a bag of bricks. After seeing the extent of Archer’s power last night… “You’re the Reaper.”

“A reaper fae, yes, but the nickname is rather unoriginal.” He sighs, pulling his hands out of his pockets and adjusting his sleeves. “I’m not the only one of our kind, clearly.”

It clicks into place, why he would want dreamdust on the streets—so he can consume souls. For power. For control. For ego.

“You killed my parents,” I growl, fire coursing through my veins.

“No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I do not kill anyone. I ferry souls—”

“You sick bastard!” I yell, my voice echoing through the warehouse.

The Reaper’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “Listen to me…” My stomach turns into a ball of nausea, but I don’t say anything. “If your father is dead, it was at the hands of the city. For breaking the third edict.”

Pausing, I go through the edicts in my mind. The third edict is the Prohibition of Fae and Magic. “He was a faeologist!” I say in disbelief. “Of course he dealt with magic!”

He tsks, his expression grim. “I’m not talking about his job.”

I stare at him, trying to understand what he’s implying. “Are you saying my dad was in cahoots with fae?”

“Ah,” he says, tilting his head and smiling softly. “Was? No. I wouldn’t say he was.”

I place my palms on the glass and sneer at him. “You and Archer are despicable. You soul-sucking monsters.”

He leans forward, studying me. Only a wall of glass separates our faces. “Archer, a monster?”

My brow furrows. “No shit. Taking souls clearly runs in the family.”

Something similar to alarm flickers through Arlo’s dark eyes, but then it’s gone. “Where is he?”

“I don’t fucking know. And I don’t care.” I slam the glass once more before turning around, striding to the other side of the cage. “Dumping my ex-boyfriend’s soul—if he’s not keeping it for his own power.”

After an extended pause, I turn around. Arlo is nowhere in sight.

“Let me out, you fucker!” I scream.

I kick the water carton, and it hits the glass with a soft thwack.

He has to come back soon. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. He certainly wouldn’t bring me water and food.

Inspecting the food on the tray, I notice it’s cold. It must’ve been here for a while. Regardless, I do need to preserve my energy and stay sharp, so I slide to the floor, grab the chicken breast, and bite into it.

It’s thick, chalky, and awful in my mouth. I taste nothing and force myself to swallow it for the sake of keeping up my strength.

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