Darien’s mouth became a thin line. His eyes opened, and Loren had to try not to flinch at the sight of the black shining there. Dark as the night sky at his back, it seemed to swallow the light in the room. “And what did you find?” he said flatly.
Loren fidgeted, shifting her weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other fuzzy slipper. “Well, nothing at first,” she admitted. “Nothing on the worldwide web that regular folk like me use, anyway. I had to get onto the restricted side of it—something called theSchades.But when the system finally let me in, there was more information on the society than I thought there’d be.” She paused, feeling quite proud of herself. But he didn’t say anything. “Do you want to know what I found?” she prodded.
He took a swig of beer, then smacked the can back onto the table so hard the aluminum crumpled at the bottom, liquid sloshing over the sides. “Now that you’ve interrupted me.” He waved a prompting hand. “Shoot.”
It was easier to speak to him when his eyes were closed—and when he wasn’t so pissed off at her. And now that he was watching her, she found that her tongue was leaden in her mouth. “It was mostly speculations of what the society was and what its members did,” she began. The longer her explanation went on, the more her voice began to fade, uncertainty creeping in. “A lot of it was kinda weird and spooky, but I think I could be onto something. I mean, as long as at least one of the message boards I found has somebody on it who knows what they’re talking about—”
“Caligo spare me, and spit it out, Loren.”
Loren stiffened, and then pulled out a chair and sat down across from him. The black faded out of his eyes as he lost concentration on the target he was tracking and crossed his arms.
“The Phoenix Head Society was a group of mortal outcasts who created a now-ancient artefact that could defeat Death. No one knows what it was or what material it was made from, but apparently this group that eventually called themselvesalchemistsfound a way to keep themselves from aging. Overtime, they recruited new members into the society. But only if they passed all necessary tests would they undergo an experiment called the Initiation. An experiment that would give them immortal life.”
There was a beat of silence, and Darien’s expression—the way his face sank almost imperceptibly, his eyes hardening into cold glass—told her everything.
“Star,” she breathed. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”
“Not all of it,” Darien said. “Cain mentioned the Initiation. He thought it was a sacrifice—”
“And you didn’t think totellme?” she bit out, nostrils flaring.
“It’s better if you don’t know everything, Loren,” he cut in, speaking over her.
“Saysyou.”
“Tell me something.” Darien’s voice was calm and deadly. “You believe this society is connected to your friend’s disappearance, and the people that are after you,howexactly? What’s your theory?”
She traced a finger over a burned line that formed the edge of the devil’s left wing in the pyrographic table, stamping down the urge to throw herself across the wood and throttle him. “I’m not sure,” she admitted. “But I think if we get into the Old Hall, we could find some answers. Maybe something that will draw a connection between the tattoo of those bounty hunters and this group of outcasts.” Darien studied her for such a long time that she squirmed in her seat.
“You didn’t need to go through all the trouble of creating usernames and passwords, Rookie,” he said with restrained impatience. “I have the best hacker in the city, and he’s right over there.” He inclined his head in the direction of the sitting room.
Loren stiffened. She looked over her shoulder, to where Tanner was lounging in an armchair, laptop propped open on his knees.
He lifted a hand in greeting, black-framed glasses sliding down his straight nose.
Cripes, she hadn’t even noticed he was there.
Her cheeks burned as she realized she might’ve wasted the past five hours of her life—and she wasn’t about to tell Darien that it was five whole hours. “You didn’t seem inclined to listen to me, so I thought I’d find something to convince you that the Old Hall is worth our time.”
“I never thought it wasn’t worth our time, Loren. I was the one who offered to help you with this whole shitshow, remember? I just have a lot on my plate right now and a target whose head needs to be deliveredtonight.”
Loren merely waited. The longer she sat there, the more frustrated Darien became.
Darien gave a heavy sigh. “In case you weren’t aware, my time is not always something I can do with as I please. I have a boss who has an even worse temper than I do, and if I don’t collect at a rate that is satisfying to him, he will havemyhead.”
Loren didn’t know what to say to that. She felt her expression soften, but his words weren’t enough to totally put her mind at rest.
Darien’s dark brows lowered, throwing his steel-blue eyes into deep shadow. “You don’t think I’m doing anything to help you,” he said. “Do you?”
She fidgeted. “Well, it would help if you actually told me what you were doing instead of always making me wonder.”
“Part of the deal we made was that I would keep you safe,” he said. “This is me making good on that promise.” Seeing the defeat on her face, he added softly, “You just have to trust me, Loren.”
Loren’s expression hardened. “I don’t do well with secrets. And for this to work,youhave to trust me as well.” She crossed her arms and lifted her chin. “I want all-in. I want to know everything you’re doing to help me, or I’m taking this thing off.” She fingered the talisman glimmering in the hollow of her throat.
Darien’s stare could cut through stone. “You wouldn’t be able to handle beingall-in,Rookie.”
“Try me.”
