“And the magical, uh, smell?”
“Fresh. Barely hours old.”
“That fits,” Jack agreed. “It’s been long enough for the attackers to get away, but not so long that the shutdown has been detected. Otherwise someone would have noticed HQ was offline. That still doesn’t explain why you think it’s a Dark Fey spell. They’re not the only magic users around.”
She angled her chin away, her expression stubborn. “I know the reek of the Dark.”
“How? The gates to their kingdom have been locked for nine hundred years,” Jack said, his voice gruff with dread she was right. “I was there when the gates were closed, but you weren’t even born.”
“Believe what you like, Jack.” Her voice grew sharp. “The Light Court elders kept artifacts of the Dark spells. An entire library. They made us learn the signs of their magic, and one of those signs is stink. And this is worse than anything I’ve ever encountered.”
With that, she got out of the car, slamming the door behind her. For an astonished second, Jack watched her stalk away. She was rubbing one wrist while the other was still circled by the dangling bracelets. Of course, any agent worth their salt knew how to get out of cuffs. Whatever else had happened to her, Lark hadn’t lost her touch with a well-concealed lock pick.
“By the devil.” Jack scrambled out of the car. He caught up to her in three strides, catching her arm. “What else do you know?”
The force of his grip made her slender body collide with his. She shot him a look, temper mixed with wariness. “I thought you didn’t believe me.”
Jack hesitated, measuring out how much he should say. “Dark Fey operatives made an attempt to open the gates less than a month ago, so I buy that they’re active. We barely stopped the ritual, and only because they couldn’t get all the ingredients to the spell.”
Lark’s mouth turned down. “I know. Word has it you dropped off the grid a year ago to find out who is working on behalf of the Dark Queen.”
“How do you know that?”
“The Light Court has its sources. They sent me to find you because they want to know what you’ve found out. Who is helping her?”
Jack was barely listening. Their argument had stirred his hunger—but then Lark aroused him like no one else he’d ever met in his long existence. She was so close he could feel the warmth of her flesh seeping through her coat. Saliva filled his mouth, reminding him it had been a long time since he’d fed. Vampires his age didn’t need a constant flow of blood, but the desire to drink never entirely faded—and fey were a particularly delicious vintage.
This wasn’t good—especially when the disaster he’d just seen had stirred his most primitive survival instincts. Summoning the last dregs of his will, he forced his fingers to uncurl from her arm.
“The Light have stood on the sidelines until now. Why get involved?” His voice had gone rough with more than one kind of hunger.
Lark studied his face, no doubt seeing the flare of appetite in his eyes. She backed out of his reach. “We’re on the same side. The Dark Queen has always been our enemy. You’ll need us now that the Company is...is in trouble.”
“The Company is not defeated. Not as long as I’m still standing.” Jack looked down the sloping road toward the city. The palace stood on the hill at the center of town, the huge gates outlined in shimmering lights. It was a vision from a child’s picture book, made of fireflies and dreams, and it was the Company’s mission to keep it safe.
And that mission came first. Not every agent could have been in the building, and those who were left had work to do. Jack would find those survivors—his friends—but as much as he wanted to start making calls, there was a protocol to follow. The first order of business was to maintain silence until he reported what had happened to the king of Marcari, the ultimate ruler of the Company and all its agents. King Renault had to be the first to know what had happened here.
“You’re coming with me to speak to the king,” he said evenly.
“Am I?” Lark asked with a hint of defiance. “Thank you for informing me.”
Without even looking her way, Jack gripped her arm again. There was no way he was letting her out of his sight. “We need to warn him. You need to explain why you’re in town.”
Lark squirmed in his grasp. “Aren’t you undercover? If there are spies in the palace, there’s no point in letting the enemy know you’re around.”
“King Renault knows I’m here. I get around without anyone else seeing my face.”
And there was his next problem. He knew plenty of secret passages in and around the palace, but he didn’t want to reveal them to Lark. If she was going with him, he needed another way in.
Jack licked dry lips, hating his next words. “If we leave the car here, we can walk in under a cloak of invisibility.”
A beat of silence followed. Then she gave a short, sharp laugh. “You, inveterate hater of fey magic, need me to cast a glamour for you?”
He clenched his teeth. “I’ll like your magic better if it’s working for my side.”
* * *
Lark dropped her chin to her chest, feeling the sting of his words. “I’m on your side.”
“I doubt that,” Jack said, pain and anger radiating from him like heat.
Lark tried to ignore the jab, but her vision blurred with tears. She was devoted to her people, but she’d also worked with the Company. The agents were her friends, and someone had struck deep at their heart. The image of the blast site burned like a coal of fury in her chest, fueling the hot prickling behind her eyes. If she wavered for one instant, let that grief inside her unfold, she would start howling like a banshee.
“I want revenge as much as you do,” she said. “If getting into the palace will help you, I’ll do it. But first, I need something from you.”
His mouth twitched with some unspoken protest, but his voice was even. “What?”
Lark sighed, regretting her words before she spoke them. “Kiss me.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Haven’t we done that already?”
“I know it’s not the time... It’s all wrong, but if I’m going to share magic...” She trailed off awkwardly, then cleared her throat.
She realized she was looking at Jack’s feet like some awkward teenager, and slowly dragged her gaze upward to look at him squarely. It was a fascinating visual journey. He stood tall and hard with muscle, forged at a time when men fought with broadsword and ax. Once she’d claimed every inch of that flesh. She knew for a fact that his skin was only slightly cool to the touch, and it would warm with encouragement. The truth was, Jack had conquered her the night they’d met. She hadn’t stood a chance. Talk about going for the bad boys.
Except now his pale blue eyes, haunted and a little terrifying, froze her where she stood. She tried an apologetic smile. “I need to feel your energy. This is the fastest way.”
She could see him resisting the idea, but there was nothing else she could do. They had kissed earlier, but that had been more a battle than a sharing. For the glamour to work, she had to merge their energies, and it had been too long since she’d let herself sink into the essence of him. That lapse could cost them, for even the subtlest error could cause the glamour to fail. “I know you’re angry with me, but I have to kiss you for your own good.”
A corner of his mouth twitched—a hint of humor. “Men have wept for less.”
Lark drew closer, resting her fingertips on his chest. Despite the low light, she could see the lines of tension