Page 25 of Lux

“Holy fuck, who let this one out? I thought you were here for the blonde bitch again. You can bond her out, but not this one! A whole fucking squadron out of commission because of this twisted motherfucker. That shitstorm at the museum took a whole day to clear and disrupted an active murder investigation?—”

“My Daisy darling,” Altaris says, his voice alarmingly flat. “Who, courtesy of Poppy is no longer blond. Has she been arrested again?”

Jack laughs. “Don’t tell me you didn’t fucking know. Your kind know everything. She got spotted trying to go after a crowd of bloody Girl Scouts this time. The day she kills someone, vamp, is the day I have your balls in a vice.”

“And what a marvelous day that will be,” Altaris snaps. “You will call your men and have them reroute Daisy to her home. Since shealmostkilled someone, she should get what? Probation? A fine? Poppy will arrange to pay the fee from my accounts. As for this one, the bond was set and paid. Take it up with your wonderful mayor if you’d like. She’s still on the premises, I believe, dealing with another mess.”

He stalks forward. Beckons me with a nod of his head.

I follow.

There is a strange stench in this place. An overcrowding of beings, along with their blood and sweat and tears. I’d been wrong before. They aren’t all mortal. They just keep the others segregated in some dank, dark space below. A prison. The term comes to me as I follow Altaris into the night and look back to see a sign perched above the bright green door.Boney Headquarters.

They keep the rules here. Accept bribes to let the naughty voyeurs from the other realm come to play with mortals and watch them suffer. Those who disobey their orders wind up in cages deep below. A prison.

While under Cassius’s protection, I’ve never been here, but I wanted to. Once…

Once, I desperately tried to come here, to find this place. But why? For whom? Who?

I’ll cause a ruckus. They’ll take me to prison,a woman told me once.Find me there. You have to find me there. Caspian!

“Caspian?” Altaris is watching me, his expression bathed in shadow. “Come along, dear, we have a contract to discuss, you and I. Quickly, before there are any more delays. We can thank our lucky stars that Mayor Greeves intervened, but she is a shrewd one. She won’t keep the hounds at bay for long. We must find your fae beforetheydo. Come!”

I shouldn’t follow him. I should find Niamh. Crawl into that peace hidden in her mind. Shut out these bothersome memories and nagging thoughts.

I forgot something.

Someone.

Someone important.

Long before Niamh, I left her behind…

No. I shake my head to clear it and fixate on the smiling vamryre before me. He holds the answers to finding my fae, and she is all who matters to me now.

Without her, I can’t give a damn about anyone else.

Not even myself.

There simply isn’t enough space in my mind to care.

CHAPTER 12

Niamh

She is beautiful in name only. To call her that is a crime. An insult.

There is so much more to her than meets the eye. So much mystery contained in her thin, frail frame. I have never been jealous of anyone for their beauty before. Not even Day.

Minchae is everything I want to be. She is poise and grace, but most of all… She is powerful. It drips from her, hidden but no less undeniable than Caspian’s bared fangs. She cloaks herself in delicate movements and a quiet voice, but I can see through the act to what lurks beneath.

She is not fae. They are taught to hide themselves. Shield their specialness.

She merely toys with those who think her weak. One day—a day that only she decides—she will punish them for insolence.

Yet she looks at me and smiles sweetly. “You’re an odd one. You can talk to me here. Those bastards won’t barge in. I’ve trained them well.”

Trained them not to enter this room of fabric—a tent, she called it. Her realm, made of purple fabric and lamps that glow a hellish green. She crouches before a tall, clear mirror while I stand. The grime and muck on me have been washed away, but her touch is nothing like Caspian’s. Colder. Indifferent. To her, I am a doll, but one she strives to dress well.

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