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My jaw dropped. "What?"
"Iron doesn't work," he repeated, then leaned back as the waitress delivered our food. Gravy steamed off my plate, and the scent was downright enticing, but my appetite had taken a big hit.
Ren grabbed the remaining packets of sugar and dumped them in his pile of lumpy looking grits. "There's no sending them back to the Otherworld. The only thing you can do is kill them, and there's one thing that will do that. A stake fashioned from a thorn tree that grows in the Otherworld is virtually a bullet to the brain."
"From a tree that grows . . . in the Otherworld?"
He nodded as he scooped up a mouthful of grits. "Yeah, so you can imagine getting that shit isn't easy. The weapons one can use against the ancients are limited, but the thorn stake works just like iron does. But as you know, ancients are far more dangerous and skilled."
I picked up a piece of bacon. "They can conjure things."
"Yes. As long as they have touched something, they can pretty much recreate it. They can also invade people's dreams, and they can move things around just like normal fae can. They're powerful, Ivy, and you're damn lucky that you got away from one of them with just a flesh wound."
I didn't need him to tell me I was lucky. Facing down an ancient, a fae, or even a human with a gun usually didn't end well, no matter how awesome you thought you were. "And you have one of these weapons?"
"Of course." He ate politely and cleanly, despite the fact I'd only eaten two slices of bacon and almost all of his grits were gone. "And before you ask, yes I've killed ancients before. Four of them, and no, it was not easy. I have the scars to prove that, and yes, if you ask nicely, I might be convinced to show them to you later." He glanced up through thick lashes. "You going to eat? Your food is getting cold."
I looked down at my biscuits and gravy and absently picked up a fork. "Why do you think the ancient is here?"
"It's always been here. That's the thing. There aren't many, but there are enough ancients that were in this realm when the doors were sealed. The right question is why was it engaging with you? Like I said, ancients are like . . . mob bosses. Fucking dangerous, but they don't get involved unless they have to. The fact this one was out on the street and hunted you down means something."
The savory gravy turned to sawdust in my mouth. "Hunted me down?"
"That's the only plausible explanation. No one in the Elite—no one, Ivy—has heard of an ancient seeking out a member of the Order. Hell, can you think of a time when a fae has hunted down an Order member?"
Yes, I could think of a time when a fae had hunted down members. It rarely happened, but it had. Three years ago.
"This is a big deal." Pushing his empty bowl aside, he attacked his plate of bacon. "The question is why?"
Only half of my biscuit was gone, but I was done. My thoughts spun with what Ren had told me. He could be lying—could be completely delusional, but I know what I saw. That wasn't a normal fae, and David had even confirmed that ancients had those abilities. Deep down, my instinct told me Ren wasn't lying. Just like it had told me that Tink was harmless.
And my instincts had told me not to meet Shaun that night, but I hadn't listened to them then.
Something occurred to me. "Maybe it wasn't just hunting me. Maybe it was hunting Order members in general. We've lost three of them since May. That's not entirely abnormal—the deaths, but these were good and skilled members."
"If they're hunting members, we need to know why."
"And this is why you were sent here? Because of an ancient being in New Orleans?" I asked after the waitress refilled our drinks.
Ren eyed me for a moment. "We've been tracking movement of the fae. At least a hundred have left the west and ended up here or in surrounding cities, but I bet you haven't seen an increase."
Thinking on it, I shook my head. "There's always a lot here, so it might be hard to recognize that there's an increase."
"These fae are laying low. They're up to something." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "And we know there's a gateway to the Otherworld in New Orleans."
I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table. "How do you know that? Only a few know where the gates are and who guards them."
A blasé look crossed Ren's handsome face. "I'm a part of the Elite. We know what city the gates are in, but we don't know the exact location or who guards them."
Only the guards knew where the gates were, and maybe the sect leaders. It was a safety precaution once the Order discovered that the fae only knew the location of the gate they came through but not any of the others. Many decades ago, a member of the Order had been caught without protection and was tortured into giving away the location. The doors were sealed, but they could be reopened, and shit would get real bad real fast if that happened.
"You don't happen to guard the gate, do you?" he asked. "Because that would make my job so much easier, because I have a feeling the ancients are also looking for the gates."
I snorted. Yep. I snorted like a little piglet. "Uh, no. And I have no idea where it is either."
A burst of laughter came from the table the two girls sat at, drawing my attention. Their faces were flushed, and one looked like she was laughing so hard she was about to pee herself. Two guys had joined them. One of them had an arm draped along the red cushioned booth, his arm behind the girl who was laughing the loudest.
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be one of them?" Ren asked.
My attention snapped back to him. The question ricocheted through me. I slipped my hands off the table and I leaned against the seat, as if I could somehow put distance between the question and me. "No."
Glancing over at the happyland table, Ren propped his forearms up and leaned toward me like he was about to share the biggest secret. "Sometimes I do. Can't help it. Those four people over there? They can't even comprehend some of the shit we've seen and have had to do. They're lucky. We never had a chance to be them. We were born into this."
"But . . . but our job is so important. We're making a difference . . ." I stopped myself because I sounded like a recruitment video.
"I'm not saying that we aren't. Just pointing out the fact that those four over there will probably live long, happy lives," he replied, meeting my gaze. "Doubtful that any of us will."
That was a damn sad truth I didn't want to dwell on. "So you're here to find the gate?"
"And to figure out what the fae are up to." Ren tapped his hands off the table. "You know what's coming up, right?"
Of course I did. "The fall equinox."
"The gates are always weaker during the equinox and the solstice," he said, saying what I already knew. "They could be gearing up for something to do with them."
"This can't be the first time that they're planning something," I pointed out.
"It's not. We've just always been able to stop them."
I stared at him blankly as his words floated around in my head. Here I thought I was in the know, being that I was in a secret organization, but apparently, I didn't know everything.
"Do you believe me now?" he asked, reaching for the plate my bacon was on.
Snapping forward, I caught his hand around the wrist before he got a hold of my bacon. "I might believe you, but that doesn't mean you can steal
my bacon."
Those full lips split in a grin. Our gazes locked, and the tumbling sensation in my belly resurfaced. I could see how easy it would be to fall into the green depths of those gorgeous eyes or be wooed by the charm he seemed to wear like a second skin. His grin spread into a smile, revealing his dimples. And that dipping feeling in my stomach turned into something richer, fiercer.
I dropped his hand, grabbed a slice of bacon, and shoved it in my mouth. I didn't have any use for swoon-inducing guys.
Ren sat back, his eyes seeming to glimmer as he watched me. "When you get done eating, I want to show you something I think you need to see."
