4. Chapter 4
4
W hen Rebecca finally reached the common room bustling with celebratory conversation, her previously growing positivity met its untimely end.
Her senses were on full alert now in every direction, including behind her.
Because even with all the noise and the jubilant atmosphere and nearly every Shade member in the common room to celebrate Nyx’s full recovery, Rebecca still knew exactly where Maxwell was.
He hadn’t stayed in the office after all.
The ever-present, gods-be-damned cord tying them to each other had only intensified again, and she felt like a physical touch his approach down the hallway toward the common room.
Toward her.
It made sense. Her Head of Security had no business in her office without the Roth-Da’al unless she’d ordered him to stay. But he was following her again.
This time, though, it felt different. Unnatural.
Was he trying to distance himself from her and give her a little more space after finally catching the hint?
Or was he trying to keep an eye on her? To watch her? To gather information on Rebecca Knox, Roth-Da’al of Shade, before sending it back to whoever had tattooed the elven rune on his chest and now expected a timely delivery of relevant intel?
Blue Hells, things were supposed to have gotten simpler after Rowan’s disappearance. Rebecca had wanted him gone. But nothing was simple anymore.
Was it ever?
She couldn’t stick around and wait for Maxwell to catch up with her again. Rebecca didn’t know if there was ever a right time to hash these things out with the shifter anyway. She’d come down here for a reason, though.
Her of returning to the Nexus vault wasn’t just an excuse but a viable item on her Roth-Da’al to-do list.
Ignoring the strengthening energetic pull from behind her as Maxwell drew closer down the hall, Rebecca focused instead on what existed right in front of her.
The mood in the common room was contagious, the whole task force in high spirits, and for good reason.
Nyx had returned to her own party and now stood in the center, talking and laughing with those around her, listening to the stories of what she’d missed during her time in the infirmary and briefly out of it.
Rebecca couldn’t help but notice the stark differences in her task force’s overall morale over the last few months. The magicals here were happy. Proud of themselves but not driving themselves crazy because of it.
They certainly weren’t stir-crazy anymore, either. A very good sign.
Shade had been through a lot recently, and it was good for them to celebrate the wins where they could.
Which, admittedly, were far more frequent now than they had been in the past.
After a moment of watchful appreciation for the positive changes in this place—with this family, of sorts—Rebecca found Nyx again in the crowd, standing beside Leonard.
They both looked remarkably happy, engaged in the conversation, content to be where they were because it was finally a hell of a lot better than the last decade of Shade’s recent history.
It was also easier than ever for Rebecca to pick out the faces of her old mission team before she’d taken command, as well as the other Shade operatives with whom she’d run various operations during her short but effective time as Roth-Da’al.
She recognized them all, knew their names, remembered vividly the experience and the skill sets they’d each brought to the table in one way or another.
Equally easy to discern were the five new faces among Shade’s ranks—those who had joined together and were now part of something bigger. The same something bigger that had stepped in to save them from the worst possible fate Kordus Harkennr intended to deliver to each of his victims.
Rebecca couldn’t help but smile.
Shade was definitely starting to look like the kind of organization they could all be proud of. The kind of organization that made others want to join because it meant something more than free room and board at Headquarters and the chance of a little fighting action now and then.
Bit by bit, Shade was improving.
Rebecca couldn’t take the credit for it on her own, nor did she want to.
Then an unnerving new thought wormed its way into her mind.
Shade was improving and would continue on the right path to even greater heights…
As long as Rebecca didn’t drive it straight into the ground by making the wrong move at the absolutely wrong time.
That was exactly what she’d tried to avoid, and with Rowan Blackmoon gone, it seemed infinitely more possible.
With the exception of one major potentiality still entirely out of her control.
She still didn’t know where Rowan was. If he’d left for good, never to return to Shade or into Rebecca’s life.
She had no idea if he was still out there somewhere in Chicago, plotting either Rebecca’s demise or her forced return to Xahar’áhsh.
Anything was possible, including the worst possible scenario. Without more information, she simply couldn’t prepare enough for all possible eventualities.
But she hoped he stayed away, for her own good and for his.
Until she had reason to believe otherwise, he was gone. And she still had a job to do.
Titus was the easiest to find among the celebrating crowd. At just over seven feet tall, the hulkingly muscular vuulbor towered over every other member, including Maxwell, by nearly a foot. The guy’s freakishly large size and mottled gray flesh, his bald head covered in crisscrossing scars like the rest of him, made him stand out in any situation. Even at a party.
When his bellowing laughter thundered across the common room, Rebecca wouldn’t have had to spot him first. She would only have had to follow the sound.
The gathered operatives parted quickly and respectfully for her as she crossed the room toward him, smiling and nodding at their Roth-Da’al when she passed.
Rebecca returned the greetings with smiles and nods of her own, all of which felt natural and genuine.
She couldn’t help but notice, though, how the conversation ebbed at her approach. That the jokes and animated stories her operatives told each other were automatically put on hold until Shade’s commander had moved past and beyond hearing range. Only then did they pick up again in hushed tones.
The feeling in the air shifted palpably around Rebecca’s presence—still jovial and celebratory, but now with an added air of deference.
Deference, respect, and anticipation.
No one wanted to say or do anything to garner their Roth-Da’al’s attention. That didn’t stop the whispered comments, the speculations of why she was here or whether something had happened. The uncertainty of whether they were to cut the party short because it must have been something else that had brought the Roth-Da’al down here.
She tried to ignore that, too, but couldn’t help noting one more difference throughout Shade since she’d taken command.
As Rebecca Knox, Shade’s only elf and just another operative fighting the good fight with those beside her—or trying to—she’d taken great pains to remain mostly invisible within the task force. To not make waves and not draw attention to herself.
Now, as Roth-Da’al, she had everyone’s attention, constantly and without hesitation.
But sometimes, like now, where her presence came with the automatic expectation that she was here as commander and nothing else, she still felt invisible.
This was just a different kind.
The kind brought on by those around her automatically erecting their own walls whenever she appeared, so as not to say the wrong thing, or make a mistake in front of her, or let their guard down in case their Roth-Da’al required something different of them.
Every member of this task force would put their lives on the line for her, and she for them. She believed that. But Rebecca wasn’t just another part of the team anymore.
She was its head. Their leader. The very top of the pyramid calling all the shots. Separated from each of them by the simplicity of her elevated position.
Such was the burden of leadership, with which she’d become acquainted a long time ago. Just one of the many things she’d foresworn when leaving behind the status and position and duties expected of her in the Bloodshadow Court.
Rebecca would take being Roth-Da’al of Shade over Agn’a Tha’ros’s Bloodshadow Heir any damn day.
That didn’t mean she didn’t miss the camaraderie inherently unavailable to those in charge.
In some ways, she now stood a world apart from her entire task force, and she hadn’t expected to care enough about everyone here for that to even make a difference.
It definitely made a difference now.
Including when she stopped behind Titus towering over the over the small group huddled in front of him. His next booming laugh drowned out all other sound in the room.
The others caught sight of Rebecca before he even knew she was there. They smiled and nodded, just like everyone else, but the open comfort they’d just shared now solidified into a quiet, reserved readiness for whatever came next.
There wasn’t a whole lot she could do about that.
So she jumped right in. “Sounds like I missed a hell of a joke. Anyone wanna fill me in?”
The others clamped their mouths shut and shared hesitant looks.
When Rebecca tried to elbow Titus in the ribs—made very awkward by his ribs being at the same height as her shoulder—the big guy started, stepped back, and turned to look at her before breaking into an even larger grin.
“Well hey, Knox. Finally decided to join us down here, huh? Look at that.” He brought a thick, enormous hand down on her shoulder in a perfectly friendly pat, though it knocked the air out of her and made her stagger beneath the weight of it.
“I would’ve gotten here sooner if I’d known what was happening,” she replied. “Nyx had to leave her own party just to tell me about it.”
Titus threw his head back and roared with laughter again. “Aww… You feeling left out?”
A little.
“Not at all,” she said. “But I do want a word with you, if you don’t mind.”
“No problem.” Titus only took one step to pivot toward her with his full attention. The others around him had to shuffle out of the way to accommodate the giant shift of weight and mass to avoid getting bowled over. “What’s up, boss?”
Rebecca wanted to step back so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck to look at him, but there wasn’t any room. “I’m heading back to the Nexus vault to pick up a few things. And I want you to come with me.”
He snorted out another laugh, but when he seemed to realize she was serious, he choked back his amusement and gaped at her instead. “Why me ?”
Yes, indeed. Why him?
“Well, Hannigan’s got a lot on his plate with the new recruits. Apparently, he’s drummed up a special training session for them today. And he can’t do his job when he still refuses to let me go anywhere on my own for Shade business. Help me humor him?”
Titus stared at her, his expression blank and clueless but for the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Still doesn’t answer my question.”
No, it certainly didn’t.
With a wry laugh, Rebecca spread her arms and shrugged. “Fine. You’re the biggest, scariest-looking dude we’ve got. And the most likely to terrify someone out of starting any trouble with us.”
The vuulbor pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “Are you expecting any?”
“Well I wasn’t . But now I guess I probably should at any given moment, right? Especially when you’re asking about it.”
Titus’s next thunderous laugh made her blink in surprise and lean away from him. Once again, the noise in the common room momentarily dimmed until everyone else realized it was just the vuulbor and not impending danger.
Then all the conversation started back up again, though now, several more people turned her way to see what was so damn funny.
Honestly, Rebecca would have loved to know that herself. Mostly, she figured it was just Titus being Titus.
“Well okay, then,” he said with a nod. “Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”
“Great.” She gave him a friendly smack on the arm with the back of her hand, which she imagined affected him as much as a mosquito bite on an elephant. Then she turned toward the hallway leading out of the common room and straight toward the front descending stairwell. “Garage in ten minutes. It’ll be a quick trip in and out. I promise.”
“You got it, boss.” He gave her a thumbs-up with two enormous gray thumbs before getting sucked back into someone else’s entertaining story.
Rebecca was already on her way toward the other end of the common room by then, confident that even when he seemed distracted and too jovial to take anything seriously, Titus would be there in ten minutes, fully prepared, because she’d asked it of him.
The crowd parted for her again as she crossed the room. They all still responded to her presence here as if some new unwritten rule had demanded they all be on their best. Behavior around their commander.
Even though Rebecca never had and never would claim to be a model of “good behavior” for anyone.
Apparently, that didn’t matter.
As the last large group of operatives cleared the way to let her pass, Rebecca shot a quick glance toward the refreshments table and the service window into the kitchens. The thought of Bor enjoying himself at a party, even from the other side of that window, was too good of a sight to pass up.
Sure enough, Shade’s resident cook was there, his wizened face puckered by battle scars poking through the service window as he surveyed the celebration in his usual gruff, standoffish manner.
She didn’t expect to find Maxwell there too, standing beside the service window as if the two of them had joined forces to talk about everyone here, one at a time, while they isolated themselves from the rest of the party.
Both Maxwell and Bor were already staring at Rebecca, though once she noticed them, the old giveldi snorted, shook his head, and disappeared into the kitchens. A moment later, the service window slammed shut behind him.
If Maxwell noted the cook’s response, he didn’t show it.
He merely stared Rebecca down, his prickly, brooding glower returned with full force.
Damn.
This felt too much like the beginning, when the shifter had suspected her of way too many things to count and Rebecca had thought of him only as a major pain in her ass.
Now, apparently, they were right back where they’d started—his constant gaze pulling her attention from across a crowded room and making her wonder just what he thought it would accomplish.
Was that really where they stood with each other now? Had their relationship—whatever it was—devolved to the point of glaring at each other without bothering to conceal the rampant suspicion growing between them?
With one major difference. This time, Rebecca’s Head of Security had some serious explaining to do himself. Specifically about that elven rune marking his flesh and what it was supposed to mean to him—quite possibly even to both of them.
This new secret of his carried far more weight than his simple refusal to leave her alone or catch any privacy for herself.
This time, she was the one justified in her suspicions, and she would figure out what he was hiding.
After she figured out how the hell she was supposed to unearth that kind of information.
She kept telling herself her reaction was perfectly acceptable as she left the common room and headed toward the rear stairwell down to the garage.
Every step felt like an agonizing blow through her flesh, but she kept moving.
Once again, separating herself from Maxwell Hannigan remained first and foremost on her list of effective methods for cooling off and calming down. Even when putting more distance between them nearly made her cry out from the pain of it.
Or, it would have, if Rebecca hadn’t had centuries of experience dealing with physical pain and adapting her response to it as a necessity of who and what she was.
Once the pain receded and she headed down the stairs, she reminded herself that right now, getting away from the shifter was still her best option.
As long as she ignored the fact that getting away from the shifter had never done anything good for her in the past and that it was unlikely to change now.
The only silver lining there was that Rebecca had already gotten used to something going wrong at the worst possible moment and now knew to expect it anywhere, anytime.