Page 51 of A Sin So Pure

13

NORA

Achill seeps through my coat, numbing my back. The cold metal of the passenger side door vibrates, and the smell of gas fills the air as the engine rumbles to life.

“See them yet?” Josie asks, popping her head out the window.

I told Silas to meet us at sundown, but he has yet to arrive. The sun is past the horizon now, the sky a mottled bruise of black and blue. The streetlamps have been lit, peppering the pavement with amber specks.

“Yeah, how much longer, Boss?” Hattie chimes from the bench in the truck bed. “I’m friggin’ freezing back here.”

“I told you to wear a thicker coat,” Josie says.

“I thought you meant for the walk human-side! I didn’t realize we were taking the friggin’ truck.”

“What’s with you and the wordfriggin’all of a sudden? Are you too broke to pay into your ma’s swear jar?” Josie teases.

I snicker as they dive into a heated argument, but my attention is drawn to where the shadows slither together, creating a void from which two men step from. I bang on the truck to stop Hattie and Josie’s bickering.

“We’ve got company, ladies.”

Silas is bundled in a three-piece black suit, topped with a black wool coat that hangs open, revealing a lining of blood-red silk. His nose and cheeks are already rosy from the cold, giving life to his pale skin.

“You’re late,” I say.

Silas shrugs as he saunters over. “Can a kingbelate?”

I ignore his question and point to Wrath. “Why is he here?”

“Wrath is my security.”

“I have security.”

“Not crown-appointed security,” Wrath clarifies, mouth downturned in a perpetual scowl.

His eyes narrow as he scans over me and the truck, taking stock of our surroundings. Wrath’s posture is stiff, uncomfortable even, but I know beneath it all, he’s a snake poised to strike. House Wrath trains the Unseelie militia, and I know he graduated top of his class—how else would he have overthrown his father?

“Fine. Just don’t get in our way.”

I pop open the car door and get in.

“Where are we supposed to sit?” Wrath asks.

“In the back with Hattie. Hattie, say hi.” She waves through her shivers. “We’re picking up everyone else on the other side of the Veil.” When they don’t move, my eye twitches. “Get in. We don’t have all night.”

Wrath sputters, but Silas laughs, draping a familiar arm around the grump and shaking him.

“C’mon, Wrath, play along. I’m the one who wanted to come, after all.”

“Alright, listen up.”

I glance at each person gathered around the back of our truck. My core team—Josie, Hattie, Claude, and Wes—plus a few other lower-tiered soldiers from House Pride stand, waiting for my instructions.

Silas and Wrath, on the other hand, are like two children in a candy shop, eyes wide, and their attention half on me and half on the human city.

Most fae never cross through the Veil, including Royals and Sins alike. House Pride is the only House with daily dealings human-side.

It almost makes you forget that the air is different here. It’s thicker, slower to fill your lungs. The sounds of this realm are subdued, the colors muted, like an old oil painting or a piano-plucked tune played with the dampener pressed.

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