Page 21 of Hidden

As they’d been talking, she’d pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. After typing a moment, she held it up so that Rafe could see a news article. Another headline, another dead kid. Rafe skimmed the first few lines. This time, the victim had been a newly-made vampire. His gaze flicked back to the top of the screen. The by-line read Errata Jones. He vaguely recognized the reporter’s name from other articles, or maybe it had been a blog.

“So you believe me?” he asked.

“The deceased lived in my apartment block,” she said. “I know these deaths are real. I get why you want to stop the carnage, but I don’t know how to help. Your Magician isn’t here.”

Rafe was confused. “Did you say the last victim was your neighbor?”

“Yes.”

“Light fae don’t live side-by-side with vamps.”

Her mouth twisted in a half-smile. “Except for me. I’m the only light fae in town with an address in a mixed-species building.”

She began to put the phone away, but had to pull a key fob from her pocket before the phone would fit. Rafe tried not to watch as she tucked it in her breast pocket.

“Why live there?”

She hesitated so long he thought she wouldn’t answer. Then she spoke quickly and quietly, as if she were afraid of being overheard. “I wanted something different.”

For a fleeting instant, he understood her. “You wanted to know who you might be outside your pack.”

The look she shot him said he’d got it in one. “Maybe.”

“Good for you.”

“What do you know about it?”

“A shifter community can be pretty smothering, too.”

That was how he’d ended up half a world away, tracking bad guys for fun and profit. The hard part was coming home and finding out he still didn’t fit in, even if he was the Alpha’s son.

She straightened, as if remembering this wasn’t a casual conversation. Her eyes lost their momentary warmth as she grasped the bars, leaning close. “Let’s get back to the Magician. Tell me again why you came here to find him?”

Rafe gave up being friendly. It hadn’t exactly been a pretense, but he’d known it was doomed. “Like I said, we tracked him to this valley by his scent.”

“Right to this door?” She bit off each syllable. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I believe your bogeyman is real, but you’re sniffing in the wrong place.” She began to pull away, but he caught her wrist. Her skin was cool, the bones fragile beneath his grip.

“Our young are dying,” he said in a voice like ice. “I can’t ignore evidence.”

Her scent tickled his nostrils, driving straight into the most primal centers of his brain. She was like a drug, though he could not tell if that signaled poison or pleasure. His fingers grazed the crisp fabric of her shirt, as her breath warmed his face. If he leaned in another inch, he could have pressed his lips to hers.

“No.” She snatched her hand away, jumping back and rubbing her wrist as if he’d left a bruise. “We’re not criminals. We don’t lure party-goers to their deaths. And we didn’t kidnap your missing pack mates.”

Rafe deftly palmed the fob he’d plucked from her shirt pocket and slipped it out of sight. “You can’t blame us for searching.”

“You had no right to attack us.”

They were right back to where they had ended last time, snarling and snapping. She had spirit, even if she stuck to her opinions like a barnacle. He’d be wild with frustration except now the fob felt warm in his hand, heavy with promise.

“You can’t keep me locked up forever.” It was all Rafe could do to keep mockery from his tone. He would find a way out. “Or my pack mates.”

“Do you have fur in your ears? We don’t kidnap people.”

“Then explain where they went.”

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