“The Pack is aware of the situation,” Gabriel said. “We’ve kept them apprised in the event they need to be ready to respond.”

“Good,” Yuen said.

“When are you leaving?” my father asked.

“Tomorrow,” Gabriel said, and the word settled in my gut like a stone. “But I’m not leaving. Other members of the Pack are, and Connor is leading them. And they’ve expressed some concerns about leaving before Riley’s exonerated.”

“We need direct evidence,” Yuen said.

“So you’ve said.” This time Gabriel’s tone was short.

“What about the European delegates?” Theo asked.

“We have not been able to convince the delegates to reconvene the talks,” my father said. “Since the most recent attacks occurred in France, they believe the French Houses need to be present for any further discussions to be productive. I’m inclined to agree with them. But they haven’t left yet, so there is still a chance.”

Petra’s pocket began to buzz. She pulled out her screen, checked it. “They found the fairies’ SUV—the one we saw Claudia in. It’s parked outside”—she paused to swipe and review—“looks like St. Adelphus Church.”

“She’s in a church?” I wondered. “That seems odd. I mean, fairies aren’t religious, are they?”

“St. Adelphus is abandoned,” Theo said, rising. “I’ve been inside on an architecture tour. There’s legal wrangling about its disposition, so it hasn’t been torn down yet, but it’s not in good shape.”

“Where is it?” Yuen asked.

“Near West Side,” Theo said, “not far from the United Center.”

“The vehicle hasn’t moved since it parked there,” Petra said, gaze on her screen.

“Did they really abandon the vehicle?” I wondered. “Or are they staying there to keep an eye on her?”

“It’s not unusual to keep alive the regent you’ve deposed,” my father said. “Killing her risks turning the rebellion against them.”

“So they’re keeping an eye on her,” Yuen said, “taking care of her, at least minimally. And keeping her out of Ruadan’s way.”

“We go in quietly,” Theo offered. “No CPD, no uniforms. We incapacitate the guards, get her out, get gone.”

“Do it,” Yuen said, nodding at Theo.

“Sending tracking data to you,” Petra said, and Theo’s pocket beeped.

“I could use backup,” Theo said, and looked at me.

“Sure, I’ll go,” I agreed. I’d started this and was ready to finish it. And I didn’t mind getting out of Cadogan sooner rather than later. There was too much magic here.

I looked at my parents, who’d managed to stay silent at my offer. “I can help.”

“It’s not our objection to make,” my mother said, putting a hand over my father’s and squeezing. “You’re an adult, and it’s your decision.” She slid her gaze to Yuen. “Assuming the Ombudsman’s office approves.”

“Go,” Yuen said with a nod. “But try to stay out of trouble. And away from cameras.”

* * *

• • •

We got coffee to go, checked weapons, and coordinated reporting. Theo was popping his screen onto the dashboard of his car while I slid my scabbarded katana inside. I looked up, found Connor a dozen feet away, putting his helmet on his bike.

I realized this was probably the last time I’d see him before he left for Alaska. It might be the last time I’d see him at all. And that possibility put a hollow feeling in my chest.

“I’ll be right back,” I told Theo, and walked toward Connor.

“Hey,” I said when I reached him, and kept a safe distance between us. Not that it mattered. Magic still buzzed in the air between us, tense and heated and angry and sad.

“Hey,” he said.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

He looked at me. “The Pack needs to go, and they need someone to lead. That’s me.” His tone was defensive.

“Because you want to be Apex.”

“Because I will be Apex,” he said.

I tried for a smile. “There will probably be wine, women, and song on the way. So that doesn’t hurt.”

I’d meant it as a joke, as a way to loosen the tension between us. But I regretted the words the instant I’d said them, and especially when I saw heat flash in his eyes.

“You know this isn’t about partying.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. It was— I’m sorry. I find myself saying that a lot lately, because I’m feeling a little unbalanced here.”

“You aren’t the only one,” he said. “I didn’t expect . . . I didn’t expect you, Lis.”

“Not a big deal,” I said with a smile I forced into position. “I’ll probably be heading back to Paris soon, and you’ve got the Pack to focus on. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.

“Elisa?”

I glanced back at Theo.

“You ready?” he asked. “We don’t know how long the SUV will be there. We need to go.”

“Yeah,” I said, then looked back at Connor, gave him as much of a smile as I could manage. Which wasn’t much. “Goodbye, Connor. Stay safe out there.”

His eyes were dark, stormy, and unfathomable. And he didn’t say a word.

TWENTY

Seconds later, I was in Theo’s car, replaying every word I’d said to Connor and wondering if they’d sounded as lame aloud as they did in my head.

And berating myself for sounding ridiculous was somehow easier than dealing with the possibility I might not see Connor again. So I stayed in that space.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said. We were driving west on Madison, the United Center a long, hulking building in front of us. It was time to focus.

Just as I made up my mind to do that, the road ahead seemed to shimmer. I looked at the sky, thinking clouds had passed over the full moon and I’d just seen a mirage, some kind of optical trick. But the moon was high and clear.

I blinked, looked down again . . . and watched solid asphalt ripple like water.

“Theo,” I quietly said, leaning forward with hands on the dashboard.

“I see it,” he said, and leaned forward over the steering wheel to peer into the darkness.

The ripple started again thirty feet in front of us, and the road waved . . . just like grass.

“What the hell is that?” Theo asked.

“I don’t know.”

He pulled the car to a stop, and we both climbed out and walked into the path of the headlights.

“Oh, shit,” Theo said quietly.

A carpet of thick and waving grass had grown over the road, which was no longer really a road, but a soft and undulating hill that stretched a full quarter mile in front of us.

In that stretch, the streetlights were gone. The electric poles, the asphalt, the sidewalk, the yellow lines. All of it replaced with waving grass and air that felt like magic.

“We are not seeing this,” I said quietly. “We are not seeing this.”

“Elisa.”

I ripped my gaze away to look at Theo, followed the direction of his gaze.

The problem wasn’t just this quarter mile of Madison. The grass, the hill, the absence of everything modern, was spreading. It reached the United Center, and the building began to simply . . . disappear. Floor by floor, the concrete and glass were replaced by waving grass, then empty air. Another hill, soft and rounded, began to rise, arcing into the space where the enormous arena had stood.

And above it all, the cold and heavy weight of old magic.

“That’s not . . . this can’t be real.” I didn’t dare move close enough to touch the grass, afraid the magic would infect me, just as it had spread down the road, across the street, and over the building.

“Do you know what this is?” Theo asked quietly. His tone said he already knew.

I didn’t know, not for sure, because I couldn’t figure out how I was seeing what I was seeing. But hadn’t we heard my mother’s story? Hadn’t she told us about exactly this? And hadn’t the fairies been trying to work some unknown, big magic?