Page 33 of The Mask Falling

“Your advice, Underqueen?”

“Keep moving.”

A service ladder took us up to Rue des Plantes, where the wind scourged my cheeks and the tips of my ears. I had never wanted to be inside more. When we reached the end of the street, we stepped up the pace. So did our pursuers.

As soon as the illuminated arch came into view, we crossed the road and strode toward it. Two painted cabs loitered nearby.

“Go.” Arcturus pressed some money into my hand. “I will distract them.”

“Wait.” I kept hold of his wrist. “The cabbies might report to the grands ducs. I see a better option.”

On the other side of the arch, a man in a suit had just climbed out of an expensive-looking car. I watched him shove the key into his pocket. He was almost shouting into a phone, too absorbed in his argument to notice his surroundings.

This had to be the easiest mark in the citadel. With my lenses in place, I marched toward him and braced myself.

We collided hard enough to set off my bruises like a row of mines. “Pardonnez moi,” I wheezed. “C’était un accident.”

My hand was already out of his pocket. He batted me away, oblivious to the loss of his key. I waited until he had rounded a corner before I unlocked his car. Arcturus went to the passenger side.

“So,” he said, “we are choosing larceny.”

“Always so surprised when his criminal friend commits crimes.” I opened the door. “Relax. Scion has far more nefarious things to do than go after a couple of small-time car thieves.”

I climbed inside and fit the key into the ignition, lighting up the dashboard. Arcturus sat in the other seat.

“Bonsoir, Laurent,” a cool voice intoned. “Gloire à l’ancre. J’espère que vous avez passé une journée productive au travail.”

“Oh, perfect. Just what I’ve always wanted.” I reached for my seat belt. “Propaganda on wheels.”

I locked the doors, put my foot down, and swerved off the pavement. Arcturus gripped the armrest.

“Not a car fan?” I asked as I checked the rearview camera. The anormales were starting to run.

“I do not enjoy vehicles.” He fastened his seat belt. “In general.”

“Noted.”

My hands were clammy on the wheel. Nick had taught me to drive, but I had only attempted it a handful of times, and had never got my license. I preferred the rooftops. Still, I held my nerve as I drove away from our pursuers. They kept running after the car.

“We need to avoid main roads and cameras. Guide me.” I took a sharp corner a little too fast. “I’ll try not to kill us.”

Arcturus seemed to welcome the distraction. He directed me down a long street to put distance between us and the anormales, who soon gave up. After that, it was a winding course through the backstreets to avoid surveillance. We abandoned the car a good distance from the safe house and walked the rest of the way.

“Do you not have vehicles in the Netherworld?” I asked him as we strode through the snow.

“Not of that sort.”

I was grateful to see the safe house. Even with gloves, my hands were so cold that it took me a few tries to get the door open. Once inside, I sank onto the hallway stairs, threw my coat over the banister, and unbuttoned my boots.

“There you go,” I said, between shallow breaths. “Your first step up from cake theft.”

Arcturus secured the latch. “And what is the next step?”

“Well, if you can stretch yourself to robbing banks, that would solve a few problems.” As I pulled off my boots, the æther resonated, raising the fine hairs on my arms. “Someone else is here.”

We looked at one another through the gloom. “No sign of forced entry,” Arcturus said. “Domino.”

Of course they had turned up on the same day we decided to leave the safe house. Of course.

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