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“I’m not sure anything can kill her,” I mutter. “You saw her back there.”
Nova inhales sharply as if she’s trying to dislodge the tears from the back of her throat. Then she smooths her hair down and winces, staring at the place on her arm where the needle was ripped free.
“We should get out of here.” Miranda gestures for us to start walking. “Although they don’t often come out in daylight, a couple of them can. If they survived, they’ll be coming for us.”
Nova opens her mouth as if she’s about to ask how that’s possible, but then she stops. It’s a question that can be saved for later.
I put my arm around her and we walk silently behind Miranda.
When we reach the train station, it is thrumming with people. Early morning commuters who turn a blind eye to the disheveled trio walking amongst them.
“You British sure are good at not noticing things,” I mutter to Miranda.
She smiles at me, rubbing the red mark on her neck that shows where the collar was fixed. “We are especially good at ignoring things that trouble us,” she says fondly. “Pretending they don’t exist.”
“Do people know you’re a witch?” Nova asks.
“What people?” Miranda frowns.
“Friends, colleagues…?”
She shrugs. “Colleagues, yes, of course. Lucien hired me precisely because of my talents. Friends?” She laughs a dry laugh. “I’m not sure I remember the last time I had those.”
* * *
We are approaching the museum when Miranda looks at Nova and says, “Reverie sent you?”
Nova smiles. “Yes. She was worried.”
“I thought she might be.”
“You are the one they call the Fire Bird. One of the Original Six.” Miranda crosses the road, jay-walking as if it’s nothing, and we follow her.
“Rev told you about us?”
“She did, but I’ve heard Zephyra talking, too.” Miranda looks over her shoulder and slows her pace to match ours as we dip down a side street with far fewer people, and more ornate buildings. “You share someone in common with her,” she says, glancing from me to Nova.
“Kole,” Nova mutters. “I know. He was here before. She and him—” Nova swallows hard, the words forcing her lips into a thin line.
“Not Kole.” Miranda sighs a little, still rubbing her neck. “Eve.”
My feet snag on an uneven bit of pavement as I stop and let the name, “Eve,” fall from my lips.
“We will discuss it inside,” Miranda says, trotting up the steps to the museum doors as if she’s no older than Nova or me. “There is much to discuss inside.”
32
NOVA
By the time we reach the museum, I’m exhausted. I’m not sure how many days we were gone, and I have no idea how much we slept or ate during that time.
Striding up the steps as if she has all the energy in the world, Miranda pushes open the doors. The security guard who fell in love with Snow grins at her. “Miranda,” he says warmly. “Fantastic to see you back. Did you have a good vacation?”
She smiles at him and waves her hand. He’s instantly silent, eyes glazed, and stands aside to let us past.
“Should we find a side entrance or something?” I ask, looking down at our blood and debris stained clothes, as Miranda heads for the steps that lead into the heart of the museum. “We’re not exactly fit for public.”
“It’s always quiet at this time,” she says. “Don't worry. No one will notice us.”
