He leaned across the centre console and took her face into his hands. “You arebeautiful,Loren Calla,” he told her. “And you are special.” Tears pooled in her eyes, and her mouth wobbled. “Don’t you ever doubt it—not for one second.” He pressed his lips to hers, tasting the salt of the tears dripping off her nose. When he pulled away, his breathing was as ragged as hers. “You hear me?Not for one second.”
She gave a shaky nod, and he pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her hair. He held for a long time as she trembled against him, sobbing silently into his chest until his shirt was damp. The night was still and silent, and even though their world had just been flipped upside down, this right here—the two of them together—felt so right.
“What’s it like?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Not being afraid of anything?”
Darien stroked her hair. “What makes you think I’m not afraid of anything?”
Without pulling away from him, she waved a delicate hand at him, as if his appearance alone was enough of an explanation.
When she peeked up at him, a cheek still pressed against his shirt, he smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m afraid of plenty. But my greatest fear is losing you. I’ve always been afraid of losing you.”
Loren only hugged him tighter, like he was anchor in her storm. He wished he felt like he was that important, instead of so…weak. So useless.
The distant buzzing of the cicadas was the only sound again as Loren’s sniffling quieted at last, her tears running dry.
“What do we do?” she whispered in the heavy silence of the car. “We need to help her.”
“We will,” Darien promised. He kept holding her close. He couldn’t bear to have a hint of space between them, but more than that, he didn’t want her to see his face—to be able to read the utterly helpless look he could feel etched into his features.
For the first time in his life, Darien had no idea what to do.
—
“I need a favor.”
Darien was standing in the front yard—alone, now that Loren had gone to sleep. She hadn’t said anything more to him after he’d held her in his car, and it killed him not to be with her now, not to be holding her, comforting her. But he’d needed to make this phone call. And regardless, he’d sensed that she needed some space, some time to consider everything she’d just learned.
A beat of silence followed Darien’s words before Detective Finn Solace of the Magical Protections Unit recognized his voice. “I’m listening.”
“If I give you the information you need to get a search warrant on Cain’s house and put him behind bars, would you give me something in return?”
Finn didn’t hesitate to answer. “Name your price.”
Darien felt his shoulders relax, the breath he was holding leaving his lungs in a heavy rush. “I need you to get Taega Bright released of all charges. She was set up and wrongly taken into custody earlier tonight.”
The line was silent for so long that Darien wondered if Finn had hung up. But then, finally, he spoke. “That’ll take some time. Whoever set her up did a very thorough job of making sure she won’t get out again.” Darien supposed it was a good thing Finn seemed to be aware of this mess, and aware of the fact that Taega had nothing to do with the Arcanum Well, the missing girls, and the Blood Potions Syndicate.
“Explain,” Darien said curtly. And then he added, “Please.”
“The stave we found on the scene of Eobha Doyle’s murder belongs to her. It belongs to Taega Bright.”
Darien ran a hand through his hair. “Shit. You’re sure?”
“We pulled the latest spells out of its memory; itisher stave—”
“That doesn’t mean shit, and you know it. She was set up.”
“I know,” Finn said. “I know that. I’ll do everything I can, Cassel. I swear it. But you have to realize how bad this looks. And the stave isn’t the only evidence; without going into too much detail, we found more items of interest at her office at Fleet Headquarters.” The planting of evidence Dallas had nearly intercepted on accident—had nearlysabotagedon accident. Finn continued, “The MPU can’t just brush something like this aside—we have to get to the bottom of it before we can absolve her of all crimes. But something tells me as soon as Roark hears of his wife’s arrest, he’ll be all over this to clear her name.”
“Alright,” Darien sighed. He was starting to get a headache. “Alright.” He stared out at the wrought-iron gates at the end of the gravel driveway, his eyes burning from exhaustion. “There’s a mosaic in Cain’s house—an image of a phoenix being reborn. He told me if he could bottle the phoenix’s powers and use it to heal himself, he would do it. Take that to your boys and see if it’s enough to get a search warrant.” He knew the MPU was looking into anything that might have a connection to the phoenix wings the dead girls were marked with; the phoenix head tattoos on the necks of the wannabe Darkslayers. From the deep breath Finn drew on the other end, he knew he was correct in assuming so. “If you manage to get into his house, you’ll find everything you need to jail him. The place is a breeding ground for Blood Potions.”
“Alright,” Finn said, satisfaction coating the word. “Thank you.”
Darien ran a trembling hand through his hair. “Don’t thank me. Just…just call me when you have an update, would you?”
“Will do.” Finn hung up, and Darien stood there for a long time in the front yard at Hell’s Gate, staring into the dark sky. Begging the eight gods and goddesses of the Scarlet Star to give him some truth.
51
