20
“Christa,” Archer said, moving to stand beside Ridley. “How was I supposed to tell you? You said it wasn’t safe to call.”
She placed her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. “True. I did tell you that.”
“I thought it was fine to just show up and ask for you. Instead your guys attacked us and tossed me off a balcony. I came this close—” he held his thumb and forefinger a fraction apart “—to cracking my skull open beside the canal.”
“They don’t know you’re on our side. You’ve only been here once, and someone else was on duty then.”
“I knew the pass code.”
“You’re also a Davenport.” Christa gave him a pointed look. “Son of one of the most vocal members of the anti-magic movement straight after the Cataclysm.”
Archer gritted his teeth. “I’m not my father.”
“I know that. But they d
