I swivel to face him more fully.
“My father,” he begins and I groan. “My father told the rebellion he’s taking back complete control. To ?give me a safe space to grieve.’”
Farrell snorts so hard he starts to cough.
A spark of anger ignites in my belly. “Then we fight him for control. Whatever way we can.”
Farrell holds his breath, trying desperately to stop the spasms racking him. His face turns a funny shade of red.
“Breathe, idiot.” I smack him on the back. “We fight, Farrell. It’s not betraying Naeve, she wouldn’t want this.” As I say the words I know they’re true. This morose shadow I’ve been these last few days? She’d hate it. She’d poke me with her damn knitting needle.
“You can’t fight him. You’ll be in jail,” Val says quietly, and Hewie lets out a defeated wail.
I hate this muted, watered-down version of Val. Everyone grieves differently, I get it. But all she can see right now is the negative. It’s so not like her it’s awful.
“We start with that. We get the charges dropped.” Farrell thumps the table, his eyes still watering. Thank the goddesses it’s not more tears. Between us we’ve cried enough to make a new lake and name it after her.
I return to Chano’s room lighter somehow. The sensation I’m moving through molasses has gone and the constant tightness in my chest has definitely let up. Farrell trails reluctantly along behind.Please let this uneasy peace between them hold up.
Chano’s not back from the gym yet so I start to pack both our stuff for the day. Catching sight of myself in the floor-length mirror, I groan.When did I last shower?This isn’t good enough. We had a few days off, but we’re back to lectures now.
I don’t want to go back to classes where there’s an empty seat. Without Naeve. But I sure as hell can’t go in looking like a sweaty cactus. I lean my head on the cool glass of Chano’s mirror.
Someone thunders down the corridor. Chano. Always doing everything full tilt.
Chano careers to a halt in his doorway. He looks from Farrell’s bolt-upright, uncomfortable-looking perch on the edge of the desk to me. I hold my breath.Is today the day the shit hits the fan?
Chano grunts. He dumps his stuff in the middle of the bedroom floor and vanishes into the bathroom with a wink, commandeering the shower despite the fact I’ve obviously got a towel in my hand.
Ping.
A message appears on Chano’s phone and without really meaning to, I read it.
Maximilian: We need more for this case. I’m worried. There’s so much mounting—Alice, Lorelei cheating at her exams, Naeve’s murder, Frank’s shady death. They’re going to assassinate her character. We’re going up against the Virrey. The guy with most influence and money in Venez. You need to talk to her, to get more—Max
We’re screwed. We’re the little guy here. I’ve seen the movies. I know how this ends. Farrell stalks over and reads it.
“I don’t know what else to tell him. I want to fight the Virrey. I just don’t know how.”
“We have to play dirty,” Farrell says.
I chew my lip, for once allowing my mind to go back to the day Naeve died.
“You think the stuff from the dark net isn’t enough? I had more, I had what we need—in my damn hand.”
Farrell merely grunts, then lowers himself to the ground and starts to pump out sit-ups.
“No, listen to me. I had a report. It showed catastrophic effects to the environment and supernaturals around his worksite. I even had a record of his bribe to get the damn thing changed.”
“That will be long gone, Lorelei. And he won’t make the same mistake twice. Won’t keep evidence around, not even for twenty-four hours.”
I sigh. “I know. I know. I thought I’d sent a photo of it to Naeve. But when I logged into my sent items it wasn’t there.”
Farrell pauses, mid sit-up. Hell, his abs must be screaming.
“It wasn’t there at all? Not even the start of a message in drafts?” he demands.
Shrugging, I slip off the bed. “Don’t suppose it matters now.”