Twilight Siege

11

“Fergus.” Niall chided and everyone tensed. “She doesn’t need to know. She’s friends with them and anything she hears could go straight to the Fae.” “I told you, I won’t tell them anything about you.” I attempted to calm his fears but I could tell a lifetime of wariness would not be assuaged by a few words from me. Fergus turned to Niall, sitting at his full height and said sternly, “She already knows we exist, I think the train has left the station on that one. If she’s supposed to play a part in preventing the war, I would think we would want to do what we could to help her.” He held eyes for a prolonged moment, the air in the room thick with tension, until he turned back to me and continued. “What I started to say is that one of our numbers is an oracle of sorts. She told us that a foreigner was coming and that we should keep her close. Her predictions are not always clear and it was hard to know if keeping her close meant the individual was problematic and we needed to watch them or if it meant they were going to help us. When I happened to answer your call about the job, I made an educated guess that you were the one she had told us about and that we needed you here.” I hadn’t been hired on merit, which was no secret, but somehow thinking I had lucked into the job stung less than knowing that I was brought in because of an oracle and little else. I dropped my eyes to stare at my hands fiddling with a string on my sleeve as I processed this new information. “Rebecca, you’ve been a great asset to the museum. Regardless of how you got here, you’ve done a fine job and you deserve the position.” I met his eyes and gave him a small smile. His words made me feel a bit better but I tried to remind myself that my pride was irrelevant. There was so much more at stake and I couldn’t let trivial matters distract me from what was important. “I appreciate that, but we have bigger issues than my ego. You don’t seem all that surprised that I said a war was brewing.” “Aye, that was the other part of the prophesy made by the oracle. She referenced the possibility of the world as we knew it ending, taken together with the recent increase of Fae activity, we knew something bad was coming. Do you know who is behind it or what they are planning?” “Ronan, who was a member of the Hunt, is part of the uprising but we don’t know who he was working with or what they hope to achieve. Regardless, I’m going to do my best to try to stop them, and our first goal is to locate the Sword of Light. Is there any information you can give me that would help me locate it?” Like guilty children being interrogated by a parent, they looked to one another for direction before the detective spoke up. “That sword cannot end up in the hands of the Fae. For our own protection, there is no information we can give you.” As she finished, her chin lifted in defiance. I held in a frustrated growl and tried to school my features. “I’m not sure I understand, but I respect your choice. On the topic of your protection, you should know that Ronan is out there somewhere. The Hunt is doing its best to locate him but until then, he’s dangerous and unpredictable, please stay away from him. If you should happen to see him, call me and I can get word to the Hunt.” Even without going into details, talking about the incident with Ronan left a bitter taste in my mouth. “We appreciate the warning,” offered the detective graciously. “I know it took courage to meet with us and I hope you can understand why our secrecy is so vital. We’ll help you where we can, but not at the risk of being discovered.” “Thank you. Just out of curiosity, I know it probably doesn’t matter, but did Cat know about the prophesy and that I was involved with the Fae? The night we saw the Leannan sidhe, she was surprised that I could see the Fae —was that a testament to her acting skills or did she truly not know about me?” Fergus leaned forward in his chair as he addressed my question. “Cat is young and to protect ourselves, no one but the elected elders are privy to important information. She wasn’t told anything about you outside of what any other museum employee was told.” I tipped my head in acknowledgement and then let them know that I appreciated their honesty. After establishing that there was nothing further to discuss, we said our goodbyes and I left the library to head to the club. I had texted Lochlan to let him know I was on my way, so when I arrived he was waiting in the lobby. He wore sneakers, black track pants and a grey t-shirt already marked with splotches of sweat. Seeing him in workout gear confirmed my suspicions that it didn’t matter what the man wore, he always looked edible. “You get started without me?” “Went for a run,” was all he said as he led us to the elevator and pressed the button for the basement before placing his hand on a plate to scan his fingerprints. “What, no retina scanner?” He slid his eyes over to me good naturedly. “The fingerprint scanner is not the only security measures we have in place.” His comment jogged my memory back to a time I had broken into the building and found him in the basement interrogating a Fae man. When I had walked through the alley doorway into the building a shock of pain had nearly crippled me. “You use wards? Is that part of your security?” “Yes.” “Well, they aren’t terribly effective.” “They are for just about anyone but you. I don’t suppose you care to tell me how you managed to walk through them.” “Can’t tell what I don’t know.” He lifted his chin and then gave a slight shake of his head in exasperation. Stepping off the elevator onto the basement brought back all the vivid details from that night I had broken in and chills ran down my spine. I had seen a dead Fae man flayed open and nearly gotten myself ‘persona non grata’ from the Hunt. “Wait a minute, this is where all the interrogation rooms are—where exactly are you taking me?” I came to a dead stop, arms on my hips. He stopped to look back at me like I had sprouted an extra head. “To the gym, you wanted to train, right?” “You sure this isn’t some trick and I’m not unwittingly walking to my own death?” “If this was a trick, saying ‘yes’ sure would kill the surprise.” He flashed his teeth at me before continuing to a door with another handprint scanner. I was about ninety percent sure he was joking. The other ten percent was busy calling out ‘dead man walking.’