Shadowfever
Page 57
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A sharp retort was on the tip of my tongue.
He shamed it into silence with I expect better from you, Ms. Lane. Then he turned for the door and entered the building.
I half-expected there to be Unseelie guards on the top floor, but either Darroc had been too arrogant to bother leaving any or, since hed been killed, his army saw no point in protecting his hideouts anymore.
Once inside, Barrons went straight for the bedroom suite Darroc had occupied. I followed him, because it was the one place Id not gotten the chance to search. I stood in the doorway, watching him ransack the opulently furnished room, pushing chairs and ottomans out of his way, overturning the dresser and kicking through the contents, before he turned to the bed. He ripped the blankets and sheets from it, flung the mattress from the frame, pulled out a knife, and gutted it, searching for anything hidden inside, then stopped and breathed deeply. After a moment, he cocked his head and inhaled again.
I got it instantly. Barrons has extremely heightened senses. Being in touch with your inner animal has its advantages. He knows my scent, and he couldnt smell me on Darrocs bed.
I knew the second he decided wed probably done it on the kitchen table, or in the shower, or bent over the couch, or on the balcony, or maybe just had an orgy with all the Rhino-boys and guards watching.
I rolled my eyes and left him to finish searching Darrocs bedroom by himself. He could believe whatever he wanted to believe. I hoped he drowned in images of me having sex with Darroc. He might not feel emotions about me, but he certainly had the territorial instincts of an animal. I hoped the idea of somebody else playing on his turf drove him nuts.
I hurried to the suite Id slept in. My runes were still throbbing crimson at the threshold and in the walls. They were larger, pulsating more brightly. I didnt linger. Id searched the place thoroughly the other night. I grabbed my pack, hurried out into the living room, and began stuffing the photo albums of Alina into my pack. They were mine now, and when this was all over, I was going to sit down and lose myself in them for days, maybe weeks, and tell myself the happy part of her story.
I heard Barrons in the den, knocking over lamps and chairs and tossing things around. I walked in and watched books fly, papers explode into the air. He had his beast under control, but he wasnt bothering to try to control the man. Hed swapped his torn coat for one of Darrocs. It was too small for him, but at least it covered the rest of his shredded clothes.
What are you looking for?
Allegedly, he knew a shortcut, or Id have killed him long ago.
Who told you about the shortcut? Was there anything Barrons didnt know?
He shot me a look. I didnt need anyone to. Prima facie, Ms. Lane. Facts speak. Didnt you wonder why he kept tracking it, eventhough he had none of the stones and would have been corrupted the moment he picked it up?
I shook my head, disgusted with myself. It had taken me months to get around to wondering that. What a great sleuth I was.
You think he left notes?
I know he did. The limits of his mortal brain posed problems for him. He was accustomed to the memory capabilities of a Fae.
So, Barrons knew there was a shortcut, too, and had been seeking it for some time.
Why didnt you ever tell me?
Theyre called shortcuts for a reason. The shorter they are, the more they usually cut. Nothing is without price, Ms. Lane.
Didnt I know it. I knelt and began scanning sheets of paper on the floor. Darroc hadnt written in notebooks; hed used thick, expensive vellum sheets and written on them in fancy calligraphy, as if hed expected his work to one day be memorialized: documents from Darroc, liberator of the Fae, displayed like we showcase the Constitution, in a museum somewhere. I looked back up at Barrons. He was no longer throwing things; he was sorting through papers and notebooks. There was no trace of temperamental beast or angry man. He was icy, impervious Barrons again.
Didnt anybody ever tell him about laptops? I muttered.
Fae cant use them. They fry them.
Maybe there was something to my energy theory. As more sheets rained down, I gathered them up and examined them. Under the watchful eyes of Darrocs guards, I hadnt been able to snoop through his personal documents. It was fascinating stuff. This particular cache of notes was about the different Unseelie castestheir strengths, weaknesses, and unique tastes. It was jarring to realize hed had to learn about the Unseelie, just like we had. I folded the pages and began stuffing them in my backpack. This was useful information. Sidhe-seers need to be passing it down, one generation to the next. We could put together a set of Fae encyclopedias from his notes.
When I ran out of room in my pack, I began stacking the pages up to return for them later.
Then I saw a page that was different from the rest, filled with scribbled bits of thoughts, bulleted lists, circled comments, and arrows pointing from one note to another.
Alinas name was on it, along with Rowenas and dozens of others. Scribbled next to their names were their special talents. There were lists of countries, addresses, and names of companies I assumed were the foreign branches of Poste Haste, Inc., the courier service that was our front. One bulleted list contained the six Irish bloodlines of our sect, plus another Id never heard of: OCallaghan. Was it possible there were more bloodlines than we knew about? What if another Fae got their hands on this information? They could wipe us all out!
He shamed it into silence with I expect better from you, Ms. Lane. Then he turned for the door and entered the building.
I half-expected there to be Unseelie guards on the top floor, but either Darroc had been too arrogant to bother leaving any or, since hed been killed, his army saw no point in protecting his hideouts anymore.
Once inside, Barrons went straight for the bedroom suite Darroc had occupied. I followed him, because it was the one place Id not gotten the chance to search. I stood in the doorway, watching him ransack the opulently furnished room, pushing chairs and ottomans out of his way, overturning the dresser and kicking through the contents, before he turned to the bed. He ripped the blankets and sheets from it, flung the mattress from the frame, pulled out a knife, and gutted it, searching for anything hidden inside, then stopped and breathed deeply. After a moment, he cocked his head and inhaled again.
I got it instantly. Barrons has extremely heightened senses. Being in touch with your inner animal has its advantages. He knows my scent, and he couldnt smell me on Darrocs bed.
I knew the second he decided wed probably done it on the kitchen table, or in the shower, or bent over the couch, or on the balcony, or maybe just had an orgy with all the Rhino-boys and guards watching.
I rolled my eyes and left him to finish searching Darrocs bedroom by himself. He could believe whatever he wanted to believe. I hoped he drowned in images of me having sex with Darroc. He might not feel emotions about me, but he certainly had the territorial instincts of an animal. I hoped the idea of somebody else playing on his turf drove him nuts.
I hurried to the suite Id slept in. My runes were still throbbing crimson at the threshold and in the walls. They were larger, pulsating more brightly. I didnt linger. Id searched the place thoroughly the other night. I grabbed my pack, hurried out into the living room, and began stuffing the photo albums of Alina into my pack. They were mine now, and when this was all over, I was going to sit down and lose myself in them for days, maybe weeks, and tell myself the happy part of her story.
I heard Barrons in the den, knocking over lamps and chairs and tossing things around. I walked in and watched books fly, papers explode into the air. He had his beast under control, but he wasnt bothering to try to control the man. Hed swapped his torn coat for one of Darrocs. It was too small for him, but at least it covered the rest of his shredded clothes.
What are you looking for?
Allegedly, he knew a shortcut, or Id have killed him long ago.
Who told you about the shortcut? Was there anything Barrons didnt know?
He shot me a look. I didnt need anyone to. Prima facie, Ms. Lane. Facts speak. Didnt you wonder why he kept tracking it, eventhough he had none of the stones and would have been corrupted the moment he picked it up?
I shook my head, disgusted with myself. It had taken me months to get around to wondering that. What a great sleuth I was.
You think he left notes?
I know he did. The limits of his mortal brain posed problems for him. He was accustomed to the memory capabilities of a Fae.
So, Barrons knew there was a shortcut, too, and had been seeking it for some time.
Why didnt you ever tell me?
Theyre called shortcuts for a reason. The shorter they are, the more they usually cut. Nothing is without price, Ms. Lane.
Didnt I know it. I knelt and began scanning sheets of paper on the floor. Darroc hadnt written in notebooks; hed used thick, expensive vellum sheets and written on them in fancy calligraphy, as if hed expected his work to one day be memorialized: documents from Darroc, liberator of the Fae, displayed like we showcase the Constitution, in a museum somewhere. I looked back up at Barrons. He was no longer throwing things; he was sorting through papers and notebooks. There was no trace of temperamental beast or angry man. He was icy, impervious Barrons again.
Didnt anybody ever tell him about laptops? I muttered.
Fae cant use them. They fry them.
Maybe there was something to my energy theory. As more sheets rained down, I gathered them up and examined them. Under the watchful eyes of Darrocs guards, I hadnt been able to snoop through his personal documents. It was fascinating stuff. This particular cache of notes was about the different Unseelie castestheir strengths, weaknesses, and unique tastes. It was jarring to realize hed had to learn about the Unseelie, just like we had. I folded the pages and began stuffing them in my backpack. This was useful information. Sidhe-seers need to be passing it down, one generation to the next. We could put together a set of Fae encyclopedias from his notes.
When I ran out of room in my pack, I began stacking the pages up to return for them later.
Then I saw a page that was different from the rest, filled with scribbled bits of thoughts, bulleted lists, circled comments, and arrows pointing from one note to another.
Alinas name was on it, along with Rowenas and dozens of others. Scribbled next to their names were their special talents. There were lists of countries, addresses, and names of companies I assumed were the foreign branches of Poste Haste, Inc., the courier service that was our front. One bulleted list contained the six Irish bloodlines of our sect, plus another Id never heard of: OCallaghan. Was it possible there were more bloodlines than we knew about? What if another Fae got their hands on this information? They could wipe us all out!
