Faith and concern war there, and his eyes sparkle with life. Wonder fills his smile. “Elder Tovin told me so. We get a happy ending, Evangeline Stone.”
“Elder Tovin?” A tremor steals down from my scalp to my toes. Among the oldest and wisest of the non humans in the city, Tovin is rumored to be an elf prince banished Upside by his people for choosing a bride outside of his race. He’s also rumored to live in a mushroom, eat cats for breakfast, and fly during full moons. No human I’ve met prior to Wyatt has ever seen him, or any other elf. Neither Fey nor Dreg, elves have six-hundred-year life spans. Tovin has supposedly spent the last four centuries among humans.
“That’s where I was that night, Evy. He asked me to come see him. Said he had important information for me. When Tovin summons, you go.”
That night. The night I killed Jesse. The one night, out of all other nights, I truly needed Wyatt’s wisdom, and he’d spent it conferring with an elf. I had wondered, needed to know, and now I did. My fists ball, nails digging into palms.
“Happy ending?” I snarl. “He saw a happy ending, but he didn’t see how much I needed you by my side? Maybe everything wouldn’t be so fucked up right now if you’d been there.”
He flinches, but stays fast. “This is the path, Evy.”
“Don’t give me that destiny bullshit. You know I don’t buy it.”
“And you know I do, so one of us is going to look pretty stupid when this is over.”
“I think one of us already does, because if this is what destiny had in mind, you can tell her to eat me. People like us don’t get happy endings.”
Anger flickers across his face. “They do, if they work hard enough. We can fix this. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”
“The Department won’t hear me out, and you know it.”
Getting the hell out of Dodge seems like the only viable solution. There is nothing to be fixed, only endured. It won’t be long before the brass starts itching for results and reports me to the regular police. Once that happens, when both the public and private faces of law enforcement are after me, it’s over. I’ll have nowhere left to turn.
The one thing I still don’t understand is the timing. How in hell did the brass have a Neutralize order on me within minutes of my leaving the scene of my supposed crime? Not hours, minutes.
“Who reported it?” I ask.
“Reported what?”
“Who reported what happened at Corcoran? Who told the brass it was murder and set me up?”
“I don’t know, Evy. Communication with the brass is one-way, remember?”
Right. Three unknown and unnamed officers in the high ranks of the Metro Police Department, who sit on their fucking Mount Olympus with representatives from the Fey Council breathing down their necksas they pull our strings. With a snap of their collective fingers, and on someone else’s word, they ordered nine other Triads to turn on one of their own. Because the brass knew they would. Handlers are well trained to follow orders. To respond to imperatives from the brass like Pavlov’s dogs to that damned bell.
Thank God Wyatt is finally deaf to its tune.
“One-way, right,” I say. “So I guess that makes pleading my case an example of words falling on deaf ears?”
“They might listen if you bring them something they can use. Something valuable.”
“Like what? The head of a gorgon?”
“I was thinking something a little less mythical, and a bit more tangible. Information.”
He is ignoring every single sarcastic retort, stuck on some imaginary idea of forgiveness and a fairy tale ending. I’m doomed, and he knows it. Still, a small part of me wants to believe him. To believe that there is a chance I can come out of this with my skin intact.
“What sort of information?”
“Tovin told me something else, the reason he summoned me, but we shouldn’t talk about it here,” Wyatt says. “You never know who’s listening. I
“Elder Tovin?” A tremor steals down from my scalp to my toes. Among the oldest and wisest of the non humans in the city, Tovin is rumored to be an elf prince banished Upside by his people for choosing a bride outside of his race. He’s also rumored to live in a mushroom, eat cats for breakfast, and fly during full moons. No human I’ve met prior to Wyatt has ever seen him, or any other elf. Neither Fey nor Dreg, elves have six-hundred-year life spans. Tovin has supposedly spent the last four centuries among humans.
“That’s where I was that night, Evy. He asked me to come see him. Said he had important information for me. When Tovin summons, you go.”
That night. The night I killed Jesse. The one night, out of all other nights, I truly needed Wyatt’s wisdom, and he’d spent it conferring with an elf. I had wondered, needed to know, and now I did. My fists ball, nails digging into palms.
“Happy ending?” I snarl. “He saw a happy ending, but he didn’t see how much I needed you by my side? Maybe everything wouldn’t be so fucked up right now if you’d been there.”
He flinches, but stays fast. “This is the path, Evy.”
“Don’t give me that destiny bullshit. You know I don’t buy it.”
“And you know I do, so one of us is going to look pretty stupid when this is over.”
“I think one of us already does, because if this is what destiny had in mind, you can tell her to eat me. People like us don’t get happy endings.”
Anger flickers across his face. “They do, if they work hard enough. We can fix this. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder.”
“The Department won’t hear me out, and you know it.”
Getting the hell out of Dodge seems like the only viable solution. There is nothing to be fixed, only endured. It won’t be long before the brass starts itching for results and reports me to the regular police. Once that happens, when both the public and private faces of law enforcement are after me, it’s over. I’ll have nowhere left to turn.
The one thing I still don’t understand is the timing. How in hell did the brass have a Neutralize order on me within minutes of my leaving the scene of my supposed crime? Not hours, minutes.
“Who reported it?” I ask.
“Reported what?”
“Who reported what happened at Corcoran? Who told the brass it was murder and set me up?”
“I don’t know, Evy. Communication with the brass is one-way, remember?”
Right. Three unknown and unnamed officers in the high ranks of the Metro Police Department, who sit on their fucking Mount Olympus with representatives from the Fey Council breathing down their necksas they pull our strings. With a snap of their collective fingers, and on someone else’s word, they ordered nine other Triads to turn on one of their own. Because the brass knew they would. Handlers are well trained to follow orders. To respond to imperatives from the brass like Pavlov’s dogs to that damned bell.
Thank God Wyatt is finally deaf to its tune.
“One-way, right,” I say. “So I guess that makes pleading my case an example of words falling on deaf ears?”
“They might listen if you bring them something they can use. Something valuable.”
“Like what? The head of a gorgon?”
“I was thinking something a little less mythical, and a bit more tangible. Information.”
He is ignoring every single sarcastic retort, stuck on some imaginary idea of forgiveness and a fairy tale ending. I’m doomed, and he knows it. Still, a small part of me wants to believe him. To believe that there is a chance I can come out of this with my skin intact.
“What sort of information?”
“Tovin told me something else, the reason he summoned me, but we shouldn’t talk about it here,” Wyatt says. “You never know who’s listening. I
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