Page 52 of Lux

I nod. I hear him. He wants another signature. Another mark on his contract. What exactly is it I’m selling away, who knows?

Once she's in my arms again, I don't care about anything but keeping her safe. Waking her up. Getting her to speak to me. Blink at me. Anything!

“Boys, clear out,” Marin hisses, sounding distant. Her anger is a show. She is more afraid than Altaris is. Her voice quivers. Her pulse is racing. The result is a distracting hum that calls to my predatory instincts.

No, wait. Not mine.

“I need to get her out of here,” I say, still stroking her black hair. Those black eyes stay fixated straight ahead, watching nothing. But I can hear something within her rustle and stir to life. Its only musing is base and cruel:hungry, so hungry.

My voice rises. “Altaris!”

“Oh blast! Enough! Will everyone just let me think for a bloody minute!” He paces into view, stroking his chin, those green eyes darting to the bloody mess my fae made. The torso draws his particular interest—namely, the hole in the center of it.

A hole where a heart is meant to be.

“What the fuck is this, Altaris?” Marin hisses. “Those bloody vamps you swore to keep on a leash, but a bloody fucking fae! That is beyond all the codes and ordinances. You’ll have that council come down on our fucking heads?—”

“Oh poppycock!” Altaris waves her off, still frowning. Her mewling words mean little to him. He has the means to smooth this over. Even this—bloody murder and missing hearts—he has the means to smooth over. It is the details that startle him. This place. This body. This crime scene in particular.

It unnerves him.

Unsettles.

He’s seen it before.

“You know,” I say. What exactly am I implying? I don’t know. Can’t say. But he knows something that has him restless and pacing and muttering to himself aimlessly and bitterly.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Bloody damn. Blast.”

“What am I? Fucking invisible?” Marin marches toward him, flashing her silver stick. She stops short, frozen in place.

Because I growled at her. I whirled on her, teeth bared, vision turning red.

“Touch her and I will kill you?—”

“Now, now, Caspian, it is alright,” Altaris warns, using his commanding tone, keeping me from lunging at the mortal and ripping out her throat. “Take your little darling one home, hmm? The other house, not the one where my precious ones live.Take her home and only there.Understood? Scythe will accompany you.”

“Altaris! We’re in the middle of a bloody murder investigation and you want to traipse off with the prime suspect. No. I refuse. Not on my watch?—”

“What in the hell is going on here?” The voice is different from the rest. Deeper, more assured. This boney is not like others, playing pretend. He means business.

“Ah, finally,” Altaris says, turning to face him. The dark-skinned man. Jack. “Some real authority. We have a few minor details to work out, you and I.”

“Jack!” Marin’s voice is an agonized rush. “This bloody bastard wants to take a stray fae suspected of murder to God knows where! You can’t let it happen! Arrest them all?—”

“That would be a very bad idea,” Altaris says sweetly as I lift my fae into my arms. Her head lolls. She is so weak. She's so light, she could float away.

I move toward the door.

In an attempt to stop me, the woman blocks my path.

“Jack,” she insists, like a child pleading for the punishment of another.

“Yes, Jack,” Altaris interjects. “Let them go and you and I can make arrangements to salvage this mess. There will be no arresting of anyone. These two are under my protection.”

“Two stray other-realmers,” Jack begins, his voice deep. “I think that’s beyond even your meddling, Altaris. I heard about that visiting envoy. This is an immigration issue. That makes it boney business.”

“Ah yes, well it seems you need some convincing. Marin, I suggest you corral the witnesses or whatever it is you do.” He waves her off.

---