Fixing Fae Problems Page 9

  “Not to mention Lord Velei,” Aidan repeated wryly.

  “What happens now?”

  “As far as they know, I’m still at my apartment, waiting patiently for them to finish the investigation.”

  It was my time to snort. “They should know better.”

  “They probably do, but as I said, it’s not like they can chain me to a chair. The tracking spell is the best they can do.”

  “Do you think they’ll return the Institute?”

  He mulled that for a few moments. “Hard to tell at this point. While I have allies in the Council, there are other powers at play. It wouldn’t surprise me if a few of the Council chairs are being pressured to put a more friendly person in the director’s chair.”

  His words filled me with a sense of gloom. I didn’t think I wanted to work for the Institute if Aidan wasn’t the director. What a change from the first day I’d met him!

  “In any case,” he continued, “whoever has orchestrated this will have more than enough time to search the Institute and get whatever they’re after whether I return as director or not.”

  “Marta said the interim director was already doing an inventory of the vault,” I told him morosely, my spirits still enjoying a pity party in

  the bottom of my gut.

  “You went to the Institute?”

  “Just to check how things were. I didn’t take the artifacts with me,” I assured him. “Plus, I left my phone in my office, and it’d have looked suspicious if I didn’t go back for it.”

  He appeared appeased.

  “Which artifact do you think they’re after? Must be one you got be-fore the curse on the Institute began, if that’s what triggered this whole thing.”

  “There aren’t that many. And a few have been nullified since.”

  “Nullified?”

  “Their magic removed.”

  “You can do that?” I asked, surprised.

  “Yes. But it’s a delicate operation—the magic within can react in strange ways.”

  “The more powerful the artifact, the harder to nullify?”

  “Yes.”

  I glanced at my backpack. “So that’s why you keep those in the extra vault.”

  Aidan scratched his chin, golden gaze fixed on me. “Some artifacts are too dangerous to risk messing with.”

  “Any you got before this whole thing started?”

  “Some. Let me see.”

  I passed him the backpack, and he retrieved the artifacts within, placing them carefully on the rug.

  The ring hung forward, glinting under the Faerie crystal light.

  “Aidan, wait. What if it’s your ring that they want?”

  He touched the piece of silver absentmindedly, his focus on the artifacts. “Things like these aren’t rare. They only work on spells.”

  “You sure?”

  “Artifacts don’t work on other artifacts, remember? The ring is not worth going through all this trouble.”

  “How come Eyes work on artifacts?”

  He did look at me then, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Eyes are different. They’re made with organic tissue that has living magic. You’re thinking of the dagger?”

  I nodded, because I sure as hell wasn’t going to confess I] had used its Eye on the Keeper. Speaking of which… ] added the seeker and Eye-dagger to the collection on the rug.

  “It might be that the dagger doesn’t count as an artifact,” Aidan said. “Or it might be that, again, the way they are made makes them compatible with normal artifacts.”

  “You think they might be after an Eye? Do you have any more?”

  He gave me a dirty look. “Your hound’s was the first one I’ve come across.”

  And Greenie’s Eye had never made it to the Institute. I grinned back.

  He rolled his eyes and concentrated on the artifacts.

  “Which one do you think they’re after?” I asked. “Oh, give me your

  phone.” He tossed it over without looking up. He was lucky I had amazing coordination. Also that he had aimed for my lap.

  I turned it on and tut-tutted at his lack of password. He didn’t

  react—for all intents and purposes he was deep into which of these artifacts is about to cost me my job pondering land.

  The phone’s camera was good, the photos of Miller’s spreadsheets crisp and easily readable. I concentrated on the ones we thought might be Sullivan. “You sure you guys haven’t gotten another Eye? He seems to have a thing about them.”

  “Nope.”

  “Are any of these a seeker or a finder of any kind?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will you tell me what they do?”

  “Nope.”

  “Scared I’ll use them?”

  “Yep.”

  I grew tired of looking at his phone and stretched on my back.

  “We should get some rest,” Aidan murmured. Soft clinks filled the air as he returned the artifact collection to the backpack and set it aside. Then he loomed over me, offering a hand.

  I took it, and he pulled me to my feet. He let go and sat on the bed, starting to take his boots off.

  That’s when it dawned on me that I was living in a trope.

  There was only one bed.

  11 I made use of the facilities, which were behind the second door and not in an outhouse, and which also made me realize the cabin had no exits aside from the portal.

  Back in the main room, I approached the bed cautiously. Aidan had dimmed the lights somehow, and everything was drenched in deep shadows. I could just about make out his silhouette as he lay over the covers on the side nearest to the windows.

  I slipped around to the other side, toed off my sneakers, and climbed onto the bed.

  The mattress was firm but comfortable. I rolled onto my back and adjusted my pillow. As I got used to the lack of light, 1 began to distin-guish the beams crossing the ceiling. I hoped the goo-pet didn’t choose this moment to begin playing toss the tooth.

  But part of me hoped it did, if only to break the strange tension

  keeping my body taut and my nerves on edge.

  The silence deepened, heavy and dense and suffocating.

  “You think you’ll learn anything from your sources tomorrow?” | asked, unable to take it any longer.

  “Mmbhmm.”

  He sounded half asleep already. How unfair.

  “We could set a trap, take your ring off,” I said.

  “How would that help?” His voice was sharper now.

  I rolled to my side and studied his profile. The strong nose that had claimed my attention so thoroughly the first time we’d met, the way his throat dipped into his collarbone, the solid mass of his chest, and the small mountain crests of his fingers linked over his abdomen.

  “We could see who came looking.”

  He turned his head to study me. His eyes should’ve been hidden in the shadows, but a hint of gold showed through. Aidan the owl. I smiled at the image.

  “What?” he said.

  “What, what?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “You can see?” | asked, taken aback.

  “Enough.”

  I shifted closer, unable to tear my gaze away from the hint of golden threads in his irises. “Well, what do you think about setting a trap?”

  He remained silent for a few heartbeats then faced the ceiling. “I think I’ll get enforcers after me instead of whoever is behind all this. Besides, it could be two people working together. Someone who wants me gone from the Institute, and someone who wants one of the artifacts.”

  That would explain why it had been a slow campaign until yesterday. “Do you think Lockhart is involved? He had no trouble getting into the Wishing Well’s private room.”

  Aidan let one of his arms drop by his side. It felt strange, lying like

  this—so close and yet so far. ] extended a hand, touching the warm

  fabric of his sleeve, making sure he was as close as he seemed to be.


  He didn’t pull back but didn’t look my way, either. “Lockhart probably bought the seeker from the Wishing Well. The one he used for the spell.”

  I worked that out in my mind. “An attempt to find the Skull?” And since it hadn’t worked, he could afford to give it away. “The payment must’ve been impressive.”

  “He must’ve figured the chance of catching a big fish with the spell was worth not reselling the artifact.” He made a sound of derision. “And he was right.”

  “Caught us hook, line, and sinker, huh?” I said in amusement.

  A beast howled in the distance. I resisted the urge to get under the sheets—I would be brave like he was, sleeping dressed on top of the bed and not going for cover.

  Silence descended again. A little less oppressive, a little cozier, but

  just as unendurable. The solidity of his form tugged at my chest. Would

  he mind if I closed the gap between us and burrowed into his side? Of course he would, | admonished myself. Just because he had kissed me while under the effects of a potion didn’t mean he would welcome any further closeness.

  “My mom wants me to get my own place.”

  “Oh?”

  “Keeps sending me these ads for cheap apartments.”

  “Will you?”

  “Seems like a waste to pay for my own place when I can help pay rent for the current one. How much do you pay for yours?”

  “Town it.”

  “Dang, a director’s salary is that good?” I poked his side. He barely flinched. “Or does Uncle Velei help on the side?”

  He shook his head. “I did some jobs before joining the Council and the Institute. I got lucky with a couple of good finds.”

  “Aidan Greaves,” | teased, “part of the black market before turning

  traitor.”

  He huffed. “It was all strictly legal. No dangerous artifacts involved.”

  Yeah, right. The silence stretched again. My hand settled next to his arm, my pinky barely touching him.

  “Why did you ignore me this past month?” I asked in a soft whisper— wasn’t sure if I wanted him to hear me or not.

  He looked at me again, the planes of his face smooth in the shadows, those golden threads pulling me into their snare.

  “You know why,” he said simply.

  “T have no clue,” I told him truthfully.

  “You’re a smart woman, you can figure it out.”

  He didn’t look away, so I gathered my courage. “Something to do with the kiss?”

  He tensed immediately. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

  “Why not? I liked it.” I moved closer. “But…”

  A sharp inhale. “But?”

  “T would like to make sure while you’re not under a potion’s effect.”

  He faced the ceiling but didn’t pull away. “I can’t.”

  His voice had a hard finality to it, so I let the matter rest. Can’t was very different from won’t, and I could definitely work with that, I teld myself.

  But then, why did I feel so chaffed?

  There were no more words spoken, and that was how I fell asleep— studying his profile, one hand under my pillow, the other hooked on his arm.

  It was not how I woke up.

  Something hit my butt. 1 woke with a start and felt around, blinking at the bright room. My fingers closed around a familiar shape. “Did you just throw my sneaker at me?” I croaked.

  “Time to get up, sleeping pain in my ass,” Aidan answered with

  some relish. He stood by the foot of the bed, arms on his hips, a twinkle of daring in his eyes.

  I thought about— Nah, I totally threw the sneaker at him. He slapped it aside and went to cut some more bread while I rubbed my eyes and made my way into the restroom. It had a tap-less basin already full of clear water. I splashed some on my face and dried myself with the bottom of my T-shirt. There was no mirror or comb, so I used my fingers and hoped my hair didn’t look too bad.

  Aidan, of course, looked magnificent, not a speck of dirt on his per-son, no horrible creases on his Henley, no bed head. His breath probably smelled of paradise. The only hint of having spent a night away from home was the darker shadows on his jaw.

  “What’s the plan?” I] yawned and stretched my arms.

  He blinked for a couple of seconds then refocused on the bread, offering me a chunk. He had spread some thick reddish-brown jam on

  top. Figs? I loved figs!

  I took the slice and sat on the bed.

  “T’ll go back to the surface in a bit, see if anyone has any news for me,” he answered while I ate.

  Hmm, delicious. “Canmf I thee your phown?”

  He passed me the phone and sat by my side, eating his own piece of bread.

  I swallowed the last bit and went back to Miller’s spreadsheets. This time, instead of focusing on Sullivan’s alleged account, | browsed through the rest of the list, paying special attention to the items on the wish-list column. New morning, fresh eyes—a new link might pop up. Unfortunately, Aidan had taken photos of the sheet ordered by client number, so the items’ side was a bit of a mess.

  One caught my eye.

  “Aidan, what’s a Heart’s Will2”

  “Ah,” Aidan said with great feeling. “Everyone probably has that

  one on their list.”

  He was correct. The thing repeated over and over through the spreadsheet.

  “But what is it?”

  “It’s an artifact of myth. Nobody knows if it’s real or not, although there are several trusted accounts of its existence and a few descriptions. It supposedly can turn a part-human into a full Fae.”

  I whistled. “I wonder that the tradeoff of that is.”

  “According to legend, your soul.”

  “And people still look for it?”

  “There are always those who seek the impossible.”

  “Who would make an artifact like that? What’s the point if nobody can use it?”

  “It was made by—again, according to lore—a powerful Fae hundreds of years ago. We’re not sure of her name, but she appears in several accounts as The Powerful One, Our Lady, Most Revered One, She Of The Gifted Hands, and so on.”

  Sometimes the Fae took the name thing to a whole new level.

  “She was an artist where artifacts were concerned,” Aidan continued. “Not many of her creations remain—officially, at least,” he added dryly, “but she was renowned for making powerful items and having the top of Fae society at her beck and call. Story goes that she fell in love with a part-Fae, decided her lover would make a wonderful full Fae, and you can guess the rest. A lot of historians think it’s over-dramatized. The amount of power and skill that would take to make such an artifact…even if the mentions about her skill are right, it would be beyond anything ever known.”

  What a badass. Talk about goals. “How romantic. Except for the whole soulless part, I suppose. Gain a Fae body, lose your soul?”

  “Something like that.”

  I grabbed his arm, suddenly alert. “Aidan, what about Sullivan’s soulless Fae? The one in the basement?” Having grown tired of Aidan’s

  existence, and when cornered in the Bowels of Hell by us, Sullivan had

  unleashed a soulless Fae—an ancient Fae who had sacrificed so much of their person into magic that they had lost their soul and everything that made them their own self, becoming a mindless monster who tore up everything in their path.

  Greenie had eaten it and left us a halfchewed arm as a souvenir.

  Good times.

  Aidan’s trademark noncommittal sound brought me back to the present. “Hmm.”

  “You kept part of the Fae.” There had been a crystal in the remains of the soulless Fae—part of the item Sullivan had used to call on it “What if it’s related to this Fae-maker thingy, and after Sullivan lost it, he told his partner? Maybe that’s what they’re after, why they went all-in against you, and it’s not about the Institute’s artifacts at all
. Like you said, two different motives—two people working together. And now that the partner must know Sullivan has disappeared, they don’t care

  about a slow campaign, they want their soulless Fae piece back.”

  “Damn,” Aidan said in an awed voice.

  “Where’s the soulless Fae bit?” I urged. “That crystal it left behind?”

  “I kept it in the box.”

  I lunged for the backpack and rummaged its insides until I found the plain wooden box. “This box?”

  Aidan shook his head. “That one, but it’s no longer there. I took it out for research. That box has a dampening spell—I use it for items that reek of dangerous magic.”

  I left the backpack on the floor and went back to his phone. “Look,” I said, “the Fae-maker thing is on Sullivan’s list, too. We can take this to the Ethics woman and explain things.”

  “It’s on everyone’s list, and I no longer have access to the stone. It proves nothing. We still aren’t sure if that’s what they want or if it’s the only thing they want. They could still be aiming for one of the artifacts.”

  I stomped my foot in frustration. So many maybes and possibilities.

  I had a gut feeling about the soulless Fae, though—too much

  coincidence, with Sullivan owning one, then losing it, and the framing of Aidan coming so close behind.

  “We’ll figure it out,” Aidan said matter-offactly. “Stay here while I go check on my contacts.”

  Where was I going to go? The cabin had no doors, and we were smack in the middle of a Faerie forest full of bloodthirsty creatures.

  He smirked at my sour face and retrieved his phone from my hands. “I won’t be long.”

  Yeah, he better not.

  The portal came to life under his touch, and then he was gone, leaving me all alone. ] ambled to the backpack and retrieved my Eye-dagger and the seeker.

  “Good try,” 1 murmured, wondering what on Earth I was going to do for the next hour or however long it took for Aidan to return.

  Flopping on the bed, my mind went through all the information I

  had just learned, trying to find links and connections.

  Until a smooth voice filled the room.

  “Faelette.”