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“That’s a dry cappuccino with a maple flavor shot and a drizzle of raspberry sauce on the foam.”
“I’ll try that, please.”
“Got it, ready for your card when you are…”
My attention waned from my sister and Landon when I realized King Rigel was still in the store with Muffin-the-gloom, and he was studyingme.
“You should be cautious of the information you received from the Paragon’s contact,” King Rigel said, his voice a lot smoother than I’d been prepared for. “It’s likely to be biased, and unlikely that he shared the greatest of your powers with you.”
Thinking of all the training I’d been put through under Noctus’s insistence and Charon’s watchful eyes, I highly doubted that, but I could see why the Night King would assume that—elves and shadows were supposed to be enemies, after all.
“Thank you for the warning,” I said.
Rigel narrowed his eyes. “You’re not worried enough about it.”
I gaped at him in surprise.
I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my life anyone has indicated I should be moreanxious than I already am.
“In fact, you are oddly calm considering you have a halfblood chasing you,” Rigel continued.
Shoot—how is he so perceptive? Something must be giving me away, but he can’t have a vampire’s hearing of my heartbeat, can he?
I backed up a few steps, putting space between us, bouncing French Fry a little so he flapped his wings to explain the retreat. “Um,” I said. “I am quite anxious about the tracker, I assure you.”
Rigel glanced outside, checking on his wife. “No. You don’t get it, elven magic isdeadly, and while you may be immune to it, everyone around you is not.” He nodded in Joy’s direction, making my blood turn cold. “Theysearchedfor ways to subjugate other supernaturals. There has never been another race as power hungry and vile as them, and we will not let their spirit return.”
Rigel left, the gloom stalking along at his side, without giving me the chance to respond, though I don’t think I could have.
I buried my icy cold hands into French Fry’s fluff, unable to banish the cold that had settled in my bones.
I understood why Noctus wanted his people to stay hidden, but I never guessed how much they’d still be hated today. Though it seems like some of the vitriol is because of the organization the Paragon talked about. As a result of using elven magic for evil purposes, they’re reminding all Magiford supernaturals why the elves were wiped out.
Even if Noctus wanted to step forward, it would be a PR nightmare with some potentially violent consequences if Rigel’s feelings are any indication.
In the past few years, some very beloved, verypowerfulpeople—like Queen Leila—had been threatened by elven magic. Those who loved those people, were likely to react to the idea of elves like Rigel had.
“I’ve got your steamer, Chloe.” Joy stepped in between me and the door, returning warmth to my heart as she held up my to go drink. “Do you want to drink it here, or at home?”
I glanced down at French Fry—he’d hunkered down in my arms and appeared to be sleeping, his little paws occasionally twitching. “Here’s great. Thanks, Joy.”
“Of course, thanks for not minding this pit stop!” Joy set my drink down on an end table before she settled herself on the couch next to it. “Also, we should think about getting French Fry a leg band or something. I’d suggest a collar, but with the amount of puking he does, that’s probably not wise.”
The icy feeling in my bones warmed under the onslaught of my sister’s love. “Why do you think he needs a leg band?” I sat down, splaying the trash griffin out on my lap.
“Because if he starts following you into buildings like this, you’re going to need some kind of indicator that shows proof of ownership.” Joy winked before she took a sip of her drink. “Gosh, caffeine is better than any fae potion, I’m telling you.”
I laughed, mentally tucking away my painful thoughts.
Noctus going public was the longest shot plan I came up with. Realizing it’s not viable is okay. There must be a way. I can’t give up.
* * *
A week passed,and as October really settled into Magiford, Pat was still working longer hours.
The first time I finally saw him for more than a few minutes was the first night he’d decided to drive me to work since the attack downtown.
Pat was fiddling with his cellphone, trying to get it to start a music playlist, when I climbed into his car.
