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I stared into the mirror.
I hadn’t changed much since my stay at Calor Villa. Oh sure, I was stronger now, and I could use a sword and could be a threat in combat if the battle wasn’t too uneven. But I was still the same anxious, overly cautious person.
Except…in one very dangerous way.
Life in Calor Villa had taught me to hope. Between Noctus letting me off after discovering I’d been posing as his cat, learning that my powers were more useful than I’d ever thought, and making my first supernatural friends besides Ms. Booker and French Fry, my pessimism had softened just enough to let me hope for big things—things normally beyond me—without the instinct to crush it.
And now, as I stood in my bathroom—having survived the tracker and the aftermath with my siblings—a very dangerous hope started to take up residence in my chest.
I left Calor Villa because my need to protect my family and Noctus’s need to protect his people aren’t things that can cohabitate. But…Noctus still came for me. What does that mean?
Chapter Six
Chloe
Two days passed, during which my dangerous new hope frolicked in my brain while I made arrangements for my first official meeting at the Curia Cloisters.
I was a strange jumble of emotions by the time I arrived for the scheduled meeting, but I was determined to tuck everything away, as this meeting had the potential to be very, very dangerous.
Pausing outside the meeting room I’d been directed to for the occasion, I took a deep breath and forced my shoulders up.
I was mentally preparing for battle, because in some twisted, screwy chance of luck, the official I was meeting with to discuss shadows, wasthe Paragon.
I wasn’t entirely sure why the Curia Cloisters had decided he was the person I needed to see. I was a human, not a fae. Frankly, I’d assumed the Cloisters would unearth a vampire who remembered shadows to talk to me, but no. It was the Paragon,who I had met as Ama.
Be polite and chill, I coached myself.But not too chill, because he’s the Paragon. But I can’t let him realize I’mpretendingto be chill and that I’m really scared stiff trying to make sure I don’t mess up and say something I—as Chloe, having never met him—shouldn’t know.
My head was spinning with how weird and complex my life had become as I gloomily opened the door.
Inside, sitting at a table and taking selfies with his cellphone, was the Paragon, making the universal peace sign as he beamed at his phone.
I was struck dumb for a moment so I just stared, until my ever-so-helpful powers kicked in and tried to peel back the layers of the extremely intricate and powerful glamour the Paragon wore.
Hold it! Stop—no! This isn’t what I want!
I mentally clamped down on my magic as the sheer strength of the Paragon’s glamour made my eyes water. I sneezed three times in quick succession, and for a moment I didn’t see the Paragon’s white hair, but rather—no! Put the glamour back! I’m already keeping too many secrets. I will not pick up anymore!
I squeezed my eyes shut until I was certain my magic had sulkily given up.
Cautiously, I cracked one eye open, and was relieved to see that the Paragon—with his white hair and long, waterfall-like mustache—was in his old man guise.
He was wearing blue robes that had dove gray flowers and vines stitched on them, and eyeglasses that I was positive he didn’t need.
I heard the click of a camera, and the Paragon stopped posing and tapped away on his phone. “Hey, bestie,” he muttered to his phone as he typed, seemingly unaware of my presence—an example of my magic being useful. “Bought a new robe. Feeling cute. Might drop by later.” Only after he sent his message did he look up and notice me.
“Aha! You must be Chloe Anderson!” He stood up, pushing his chair back. “Lovely to meet you!”
“Hello, Paragon,” I said. “It’s an honor. Thank you for being willing to speak with me.”
“Yes, of course,” the Paragon said. “We must all help where we can. But let’s get out of here, shall we?” He adjusted his spectacles as he approached me, and I realized he was taller than I thought he was when I’d been Ama.
“Get out of here?” I echoed. “What do you mean?”
“This place is so dingy and boring. Plus, there’s no drinks!” He peered around the room with a scowl, then turned back to me and smiled brightly. “I thought we could go to my pocket realm!”
“Um.” I wanted to refuse, but how could I politely go about telling theParagon—the most powerful fae in the USA—that I was rejecting his personal invitation?
“Just a moment and we’ll be right there—try to stay standing.” The Paragon winked at me as he pulled a pink coin purse covered with white unicorns out of one of his voluminous sleeves and snapped it open.
