Elven Lies (Court of Rebellion #3)

25. Chapter 25

25

R ebecca sat behind the enormous desk in her second-story office, wondering why everything felt so out of place. So wrong.

The second her body registered the first tingling currents racing up and down her arms, her first thought was that she needed more rest. Especially with everything Shade now faced. But the sensation only grew, intensifying by the second, until it washed over her from head to toe and through her, seeping into every space of her awareness. Then she knew.

Maxwell was coming for her.

All her other thoughts and memories of him and all the confusion this sensation had instilled in her came rushing back in an instant.

By the Blood, she hadn’t spent any time outside the compound without Maxwell at her side, and now, after only half a day walking across Chicago with Rowan and without the weight of the shifter’s presence right there beside her—that ever-present pull drawing her in and beckoning her closer to the unknown—she’d forgotten all about it.

Now that it hit her again and she felt Maxwell approaching her office door without a sound, she realized how much she’d missed the sensation—like a separate entity between them, odd at first, but which had grown into a stabilizing, grounding certainty. A presence she could always rely on to be right there, as long as her Head of Security was there too.

And she’d missed it.

The tingling heat made her breath catch as Maxwell stopped in front of her closed office door and knocked.

“Come in,” she called, though she already knew it was him. Her body’s reaction to him never predicted anyone else.

She wasn’t wrong.

Her office door swung open, then Maxwell appeared, poking his head through as if he wasn’t sure he should be here. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yep. Come on in and close the door.”

He expertly covered up his momentary surprise before doing just that, though Rebecca still caught the widening of his eyes before his twitching frown of uncertainty and curiosity covered it up. “Did you find the key-maker?”

He thought she’d bitten off more than she could chew going out with Rowan alone, and he’d probably been right. But at the moment, Rebecca was more concerned with the good news.

“It was more or less a success,” she said, gauging his reaction. “I found a lot more than just the key-maker.”

The door clicked shut, and Maxwell approached her desk with slow, calculated steps, his hands clasped behind his back and his chin lifted. Ever the obedient soldier ready for his next order.

“Should we be worried?” he asked.

When he stopped in front of her desk without any other sign that he was glad to see her back or that he’d felt her return just as acutely as she’d felt his, she figured it was best to just dive right in.

“I don’t think so. But that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Rebecca pulled the vault key from her pocket and set it on the desk. “This opens a private storage vault in Nexus’s Chicago branch right downtown. Turns out Aldous was even busier than we thought.”

The shifter cocked his head but remained silent. How could he not be interested in what came next?

“He’s been holding out on Shade for a long time,” she added. “If I had to guess, based on everything locked up in there, I’d say he was keeping the majority of acquired goods and contract payments in there for at least as long as his reign of terror, if not longer. And I wanted to get your opinion on the best way to handle Shade’s newfound treasure before I called another council meeting about it.”

He stared blankly at her for a moment, then a corner of his mouth twitched. “I missed the part where that was made an official council.”

Full of jokes, was he? At least she’d caught him in a good mood.

“I’m still making this up as I go, Max,” she replied and sat back in her office chair. “So bear with me.”

He snorted, which, coming from Maxwell, could have been interpreted as any number of things. But it made her smile all the same.

“I do have an opinion, as it turns out,” he said.

“I figured you would.” She nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

“In terms of Aldous’s…belongings, I’d say, technically, we deal with it the way we’ve dealt with everything else here that once belonged to him. It goes directly to his successor.”

Rebecca grimaced before realizing that was the expression she felt on her own face. “I don’t want Aldous’s stuff.”

“At that point,” he continued, as if she hadn’t added any commentary, “it would then be for the Roth-Da’al to do with as she sees fit.”

“Well that’s a very blanket answer.” Wrinkling her nose, she leaned farther back into her chair and swiveled side to side.

She’d hoped her Head of Security had something more concrete to offer, but his answer didn’t surprise her.

He watched her diligently, the office filling with the rhythmic squeak of her chair as she swiveled back and forth and the thoughtful, pattering tap of her fingers on the plastic armrests. Then he sighed and gave her more.

“But personally, I would devise a system for reallocating those resources. Say half remains in a pool for Shade to budget upgrades, necessary mission resources, maintenance and repairs, restocking supplies. You get the idea. Then I’d come up with a way to disperse the other half so everyone gets a piece.”

“Equals slices of one big old pie, huh?”

“Or half of it, anyway.”

She stopped swiveling and looked up at him in time to catch another twitch at the corner of his mouth while his silver eyes focused on the surface of her desk.

A week ago, she would have called him a smartass for that. But after her afternoon with Rowan, it felt mild and oddly refreshing.

Probably best not to mention that part either, though.

“That’s a good idea, Hannigan,” she said instead. “I like where you’re going with it. Thanks for your input.”

“Anytime.”

“The question after that, though, is how to specifically divvy it all up. I mean, it’s great that we found his stash of stolen goods, but the kinda stuff he squirreled away in there… I don’t know. Something tells me Bor wouldn’t particularly appreciate being paid in intact bear pelts or expensive rugs.”

Maxwell’s eyebrows shot straight up, making Rebecca smash her laughter down into a snort she failed to repress.

“But it’s not all bear pelts and rugs, correct?” he asked.

“Fortunately for us, no. It isn’t. I just have no idea what to do with that half to make sure we’re giving everybody an equal slice of the pie, as it were.”

“I can help you with that.”

“Oh yeah?” Her chair swiveling started up again, as did the drumming of her fingers on the armrest as she looked her Head of Security up and down. “You have a thing for numbers too and never told me about it?”

“I’m sure I can find a decent accountant somewhere.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was joking, but it didn’t matter.

If Maxwell said he’d help her sift through the details of this little predicament—which she was happy to add to her list of problems, because this one had an almost guaranteed positive outcome—that was exactly what he would do. And she could hold him to it.

“Then I’ll defer to your confidence on that one,” she said.

“That’s good to hear. Finally.”

Rebecca looked sharply up at him again. Had she done something to activate his prickly side already?

No, there was his twitching smile again.

Apparently, her Head of Security was growing into his newfound ability to make multiple jokes in the same conversation.

The next step was getting him to pick a subject for those jokes that wasn’t her .

She almost laughed and might have tried to say something witty to keep the good mood going, but the shifter’s expression morphed faster than she could think.

The next second, he stood in front of her desk looking more serious and somber than she remembered seeing him in a long time. It felt like a long time. Just a few weeks ago, they’d considered each other enemies of a sort.

Maxwell stared at her for so long, she wondered what terrible news he’d been holding back this whole time.

“There’s obviously something else on your mind,” she said. “Go ahead. Get it out before you hurt yourself.”

She’d meant that as a joke too but had apparently missed her mark.

“Is everything…all right?” he asked.

Seriously? That was the thing that so clearly bothered him?

“Everything’s fine.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out the Mindstone he’d given her. He didn’t even look at it as she leaned forward to set it as close to the edge of her desk as she could reach. “So fine, in fact, that I didn’t have to use this at all. Trust me, I’m almost as surprised as you are about that, but it all worked out. Thanks anyway.”

“I’m glad to hear it wasn’t a complete nightmare.” He still didn’t seem to register the Mindstone she was trying to return, nor did his gaze wander from her face.

The longer he stood there, looking concerned and confused and like he didn’t want to give her bad news, the more Rebecca worried that was exactly what she was about to get.

“Why? Did something happen while I was gone?” she asked cautiously.

“Not here, no.”

“I’d call that good news.”

“As you wish.” Still, he didn’t budge.

“What is it, Hannigan? Please believe me when I say it’s better for both of us if you just come out and say it.”

Maxwell cleared his throat, pressed his lips tightly together, and finally dropped his gaze to her desk like he couldn’t look her in the eye while spilling the beans. “You say everything’s fine, and I want to take you at your word.”

“Then please do.”

“But I…” A frustrated sigh escaped him before, with what seemed like great effort, he finally lifted his gaze again to meet hers. “But I can tell something else is bothering you.”

He could tell …

Of course he could. Rebecca had been feeling his emotional responses to a wide array of situations for several days now. Why wouldn’t the inexplicable connection go both ways?

There was something else bothering her. He’d picked that up correctly. But it wasn’t anything she could talk to him about.

She wasn’t sure his concern for her could withstand his growing irritation if she discussed her recent revelations about Rowan and how much she’d risked by letting the Blackmoon Elf stay with them. Plus, Maxwell would volunteer to get rid of Rowan himself so the Roth-Da’al wouldn’t have to dirty her hands with it.

At the end of the day, though, she didn’t need his help. Not with this.

When it came to dealing with Rowan, Rebecca had to handle it herself.

So for now, at least, she had to make it something else.

Only when she offered the shifter a tight, tired smile did she realize how accurately it reflected her current state. “It’s just been a day, and I’m tired.”

“Nothing else?”

She shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. But if something comes up, you’ll be the first to know.”

Maxwell’s frown deepened a bit more until he finally nodded. “I hope so.”

Look at that. Maxwell Hannigan adding hope to the equation. This was definitely among her top-ten strangest days as Roth-Da’al, with plenty more to come, she was sure.

She didn’t know quite what to do beneath his gaze. Obviously, she hadn’t eased his concerns the way she’d hoped, but it didn’t feel right to end the conversation on this note. No matter how happy she would have been to crawl into bed right now.

So it was back to business, then.

“I do have something for you, though.” She dipped under her desk to grab the heavy silver briefcase, then hauled it up with her and dropped it onto the desk with a thump.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

“I’ll let you open it this time.”

He reached for the clasps as if they might electrocute him or set off an alarm, but then he finally pushed through it to flip them both open together before lifting the lid.

Once he did, the sight of all that cash stacked inside, high-denomination bills bound neatly together, made him freeze.

Either that, or it fried his brain’s circuitry altogether.

“This should cover the cost of whatever we need to fully resource in advanced operation I want running as soon as possible,” she told him. “Recon, ongoing intel, strategic infrastructure. The whole circus.”

He swallowed thickly before closing the briefcase and locking both clasps again. It wasn’t much of a reaction, but for Maxwell, it was one hell of a tell.

This was her Head of Security’s version of cheering and rolling around in a pile of cash.

She gave him a minute to collect himself before he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.

“And the target?” he asked, clearly trying so hard not to give himself away.

It was actually kind of cute…

The mission. She had to focus on the mission .

“Kordus Harkennr,” she said. “And the Old Joliet Prison. I want everything he’s currently up to, including his connections with outside locations. We prioritize how and from where he’s sourcing all his…victims, for lack of a better way to put it. Once we have enough intel on his current infrastructure, I want this task force outfitted with everything we could ever possibly need to infiltrate his base and dismantle what he’s doing in there from the inside out.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice dropping into its usual growl, though this time it sounded more like dark amusement. “Then I’d say this should definitely cover the costs.”

It was either the sound of his voice or some other sensation rippling away from him and through her, but whatever the reason, something about the way he’d said it made her shiver with a mix of anticipation and dark satisfaction.

Now it was Rebecca’s turn to swallow and pull herself back together, just to finish the conversation. “It won’t be enough to stop him forever. Something tells me that’s much easier said than done. At the very least, even if we intercept every shipment of experiment subjects and keep him from getting his hands on more, there’s still the issue of all the magicals inside the prison we also have to consider.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

“You know it just as well as I do. I don’t care who they are or what they’ve done. None of them deserve to be left there when we move against Harkennr.” She nodded toward the briefcase. “And if this isn’t enough to cover everything we need once Recon comes back with a more detailed report of what we’re up against, let me know. There’s a lot more that came from.”

Maxwell dipped his head, wrapped his fingers around the handle of the briefcase, and paused before meeting her gaze again with a knowing look. “And then we take Harkennr down?”

“Yes. Not an all-out war, though. Not at first. That’s too big of a risk for us, but if we can weaken him bit by bit, find his pressure points and bear down even just a little, draw his people out in the open and get rid of them while cutting off his supply, that actually might give us the kind of advantage we need.”

“Understood.” His eyes pulsed with silver light as he slid the briefcase the rest of the way across the desk, then lifted it to take with him, all while holding her gaze, “I’ll take care of it.”

Rebecca nodded at him and couldn’t keep the tiniest ghost of a smile off her lips. “I know you will.”

With a dip of his head, he turned away from her, the silver briefcase of cash in tow, and headed toward the door.

An unexpected pain shot through her center—a tug forward, pulling her after him, compelling her to stop the distance between them from growing any larger.

That same pain she remembered feeling so distinctly while lying in one of Zida’s recovery beds as Maxwell was forced to let go of her hand and leave her in the healer’s care.

The pain of separating from something she had only just discovered.

She almost gasped at the shock of it but forced it down at the last second, because when Maxwell reached the door, he paused and turned back toward her.

The deep concern and tender hesitation etched across his features made her heart sputter.

Had she missed something? Forgotten a crucial aspect? Said the wrong thing?

The questions flooding her mind disappeared just as quickly when the sudden realization of what this was finally hit her.

Maxwell was feeling what she was feeling—her own concerns, the burdens of what had to be done for Shade, for Harkennr’s victims, overlooked by literally everyone else.

What had to be done with Rowan.

“Whatever else might be on your mind,” he said, “I’m here to listen, or to provide an opinion, if that’s what you want. Either way, whatever it is, I want you to feel you can tell me. My duty is first and foremost to the Roth-Da’al.”

It would have been a perfect invitation if not for that last part. Rebecca forced another tight smile. “Shade and its leader. One and the same, right?”

“Well I… That’s not exactly…” Maxwell sighed heavily through his nose and closed his eyes.

Who knew Shade’s Head of Security could be so flustered by anything, let alone his own words repeated back to him?

He pulled himself together and tried again. “I don’t mean it quite in that way this time. But…anything you might need. I’m here.”

It was surprisingly sweet coming from him, however out of place it felt. Even if she hadn’t felt it through the connection transferring their emotions and intentions between them like a twisted collection of cables and tubes rigged up to one of Harkennr’s disgusting magic-sucking machines, she would have known how deeply he meant those words.

The genuineness was written there all over his face.

At the same time, Rebecca was still acutely aware of the fact that every bit of what he’d just said also aligned with the requirements of his job.

“Thanks, Hannigan, she said and dismissed him with a nod.

He looked surprised at first but pulled it together, opened the door, and disappeared.

When the final lingering tendrils of Maxwell’s presence faded from her awareness and he was gone, she could breathe again.

Of course Maxwell had picked up on something else—a fairly big issue, too, and one she had to deal with as soon as possible. But deciding how to get Rowan out of the picture didn’t feel like a Shade decision. This was personal.

Rowan just didn’t belong here, and he didn’t want to try. His only mission from the start had been to take Rebecca back home with him. After today, if Rowan thought ruining her entire life in Chicago would be necessary to get what he wanted, she knew now he would absolutely do it.

She had to get rid of him, To send him away and make it permanent without permanently ending him . Manufacturing a scenario and therefore a viable reason to exile him from Shade would be hard, but it had to be done. Rowan would only further endanger the entire task force that much more with every day she allowed him to remain among them.

The understanding of what she had to do next was more painful than anything she’d felt in a long time. Rebecca didn’t know anyone the way she’d once known Rowan. She’d never let herself know anyone else. That only made this more dangerous, not less.

But she’d made her choice. This couldn’t go on, and yes, she was choosing Shade over the Bloodshadow Court. Choosing Shade over her old best friend—the one good thing in her life before she’d finally committed to leaving it all behind her forever.

Forever just didn’t last long enough in this case.

So Shade’s Roth-Da’al had to take matters into her own hands and try one more time to throw the Blackmoon Elf out of Chicago for good, Only this time, it wouldn’t be a bit of her magic mixed into a potion before he entered The Striving.

This time, she had to make it look like Rowan’s fault. Like his shortcomings and eccentricities, his recklessness and disregard for the chain of command, had finally become too much of a liability to keep him on. Preferably without killing him.

Rowan would stop at nothing to achieve his purpose in Chicago. Could Rebecca be just as committed to her own?

At the very least, if she had to hurt him badly enough to force him out, she could live with that. So could Rowan. His loyalties had revealed themselves, and they lay with the Bloodshadow Court. With Rebecca’s past. With her enemies.

Her loyalties had changed too, and with them, her willingness to do whatever it took to protect the task force she’d come to value more than any family of blood had ever valued her .

Even if it meant making the most difficult, most agonizingly painful choice since the day she’d left him the first time.