Chapter 6 Zera
Zera
All thoughts of fun vanished when they hopped on the bus out of Havenwood, scattered with passengers lost in their own thoughts as the vehicle trudged along the winding road to Mystic City.
Reality had sunk in, a sudden wave of nausea rolling through her at the fact that she was seated next to a werewolf spy and at the prospect of going undercover to chase down a dangerous elven arms dealer. This was ludicrous. She’d absolutely lost her marbles.
But perhaps that was a good thing. After all, that same elven arms dealer had sent hit men after her, endangering her son and family.
She hardened her resolve. She would go to the end of the realm and back to protect her little pixie-wereling, and if she couldn’t find the fae who did this in the Fae Realm, she would fight her way into the next. Somehow.
She clenched her fists as panic rose within her, constricting her air passageways at the thought of what might’ve happened if Maverick hadn’t arrived when he had and at the lengths she would go to protect her child.
There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Cole, but that didn’t mean her stomach didn’t churn with dread at the thought of it.
“Does it ever get easier?” she asked Maverick, who sat with her, tucked in the far back, away from prying ears.
“What?” He arched a brow at her.
“This feeling like my insides are about to burst at the thought of going undercover.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” he said, his lips curling into a smug grin.
She scoffed. “Okay, faeboy. I get it. You’re this hotshot spy who knows everything, so what would you have to fear?”
He smirked. “Who said I know everything?”
“Probably only you.”
His muscled arms, which took up most of the seat, shook with laughter at that, and Zera smiled back.
She had half expected him to mansplain spy techniques or agree that he actually knew everything.
Her ex never would’ve let her get away with making a joke like that.
She lived in fear of being wrong, of saying anything that would make her ex lecture her on how she shouldn’t say wrong things.
It was like a weight had been lifted from her, a relief that left her heart fluttery.
“In all honesty, I understand your fear. I’ve felt it too.” He shrugged. “Eventually, all of this becomes like second nature.”
“Oh.” She wondered how long that would take. Probably longer than she was willing to play a spy’s pretend wife. “So, tell me about this Dane Brown.”
She might as well get started working on getting to know Maverick’s alias, right? It was only a matter of time before she would have to get into character, and as of yet, she knew nothing about her fake husband.
“All you need to know is that he’s a high-stakes logistics consultant.” He paused, his piercing eyes flicking to Zera for a moment. “I worked for Gareth on a job securing a weapons shipment coming in from the Human Realm.”
Zera gasped. “You’ve been out of this realm? But how did you get that kind of clearance? I didn’t think you worked for the government.”
“I don’t.” Maverick pointedly ignored her other question, perhaps for plausible deniability.
“Okay, guess I don’t need to know that, but answer me this,” she said, taking the hint. “Why would Gareth go to so much trouble going after a consultant who only worked on one job for him?”
His jaw ticked.
“Unless it was more than one job?”
It ticked again. She was onto something.
“And how did he figure out your name? Perhaps whoever he’s working for now gave it to him?”
“Impossible,” Maverick muttered under his breath. He tapped his fingers against the armrest. He was growing restless.
Zera knew she had struck a nerve and decided to press on for good measure. He was the only reason these fae thugs even knew her pixie dust existed and were out to kill her too. She had the right to probe for answers.
Leaning in closer to Maverick, Zera locked her gaze with his intense stormy eyes. “Tell me the truth, Maverick. What aren’t you telling me?”
Maverick’s gaze hardened, his steely resolve shining through when he finally spoke through clenched teeth. “He should never have been able to figure out my true identity. Not unless he was helped by someone more powerful than the company who hired me.”
“And who was that?”
A flicker of hesitation passed over his face, and for a second, she thought he was done divulging his secrets.
He sighed, rubbing his suddenly tired eyes. “Mystic Dynamic Solutions, a shell company used as a front for an illegal-arms-dealing operation. Gareth was barely competing with them, but they wanted a monopoly, and they got it.”
Zera sat in silence for a moment as the bus made another stop in a neighboring village on the border between Havenwood Forest and the northern Shadowlands.
Crisp auburn leaves flaked off the stems of the red oaks that filled Havenwood Forest, standing out like a golden beacon against the wall of forest green pines that lined the Shadowlands.
“What lengths do you think Gareth would go to so he could ensure his survival after this company came after him?” she asked.
Maverick looked down at her in surprise, as if the question never occurred to him.
“My guess is, he’d go to plenty,” Maverick said, his deep baritone rumbling with a weariness that defied his age.
Or at least the age she thought he looked, which was roughly mid-thirties, as the subtle speckles of gray in his otherwise-deep-brown hair suggested.
She was similar in age but was lucky enough not to have spotted a single gray hair in her own hair yet.
“But enough about Gareth.” He gazed back out the window of the bus as the pines flew by, his voice resigned. “You should be focusing on your cover. When we arrive in Mystic City, we’ll need to sell your alias to everyone around us. From the moment we arrive, you’ll no longer be Zera.”
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of becoming someone new. “What do I need to know about Charlotte?”
Maverick chuckled, a flicker of amusement crossing his otherwise uninterested expression. “Nothing.”
Heat flared in Zera’s cheeks at his response. She had expected some guidance, some insight into the life she was about to step into. After all, she wasn’t the one who was the professional spy.
Instead, he dismissed her, as if her question was trivial and her concerns insignificant. Anger swelled inside her, fueled by his condescending demeanor.
“What do you mean ‘nothing’? I’m about to be impersonating another fae. I should at least know something about them.”
Maverick turned on her, fixing her with a hard stare that reminded her of the look he’d given her when he saw her as a pixie for the first time at the restaurant. Anger.
She frowned. What did he have to be angry with her about?
It was a fair question. And hadn’t he been the one to make a move on her just hours earlier?
Not that she should’ve wanted him to and not that she would admit she did, but he had no reason to be this cold to her.
He was the Lunar werewolf, after all. A predator of her kind.
She’d grown up on the stories of the big bad wolf from the Lunar Forest, who hunted the pixies for sport and sold off their pixie dust to the highest bidder. It was why pixies had made it an unspoken rule never to interact with werewolves.
But she never bought into all that. Not all wolves were bad.
At least she’d thought that when she was younger.
That was when she’d mistakenly told herself her now ex was different because he wasn’t a Lunar wolf, which meant he was good.
She’d been wrong then. She wouldn’t be wrong again, which was why she had to get a grip on her feelings. If only to prevent another heartbreak.
“Just be as much like yourself as you can,” he finally replied. “A good alias is always in some way the truth.”
Zera raised her eyebrows. “Is that the case with your faeboy ways? Or your pixie-hunting ways?”
He glowered at her. “I’d never hunt your kind.”
“But didn’t Gareth say you’re a Lunar Brotherhood wolf?”
“I used to be. Once.”
She frowned. “I thought all wolves belonged to a pack, and yours definitely is the worst. At least for my kind, that is.”
“Like I told you at the restaurant, I’m one of the good ones.”
“You’re different, I’ll give you that,” she said with a shrug. “But I’m not sure if you’re good yet.”
“Even though I saved your life?” He arched a brow at her.
“I saved yours first.”
Maverick rolled his eyes and looked away, leaving Zera to stew in her curiosity. But she was too old to care. They were both adults and could choose whichever lifestyle they wanted. Hers was taking care of her son.
She sighed, her thoughts drifting back to Cole, Jade, and Sloane. Were they okay on their journey? She couldn’t wait to get her hands on a faestone to talk to them but worried about the delivery process.
“Once we have the faestones forged, how long do you think it’ll take to get them to Jade and Sloane? Won’t the normal post flag them?”
Maverick cleared his throat, keeping his voice low. “Yes, if we used the normal post sender. But, like you said, they wouldn’t make it past the Fae Channel, damn gnomes.”
Everyone knew gnomes were responsible for the universal postal system.
Their underground tunnels and speed made them perfect for the job.
If only they weren’t controlled by the Fae Tribunal that governed the Fae Realm.
Even if they didn’t include a return address, they would still be putting Jade and Sloane—and her son—in unnecessary danger.
But if they couldn’t send anything through the normal channels, how would they ever get the faestones to them?
“It won’t be as instant as shipping with the postal system,” Maverick continued. “But there are other ways to ensure their delivery is discreet.”
“And what exactly does that mean?” Zera pressed, feeling a mix of frustration and concern.
Maverick’s lips curled into an impatient smile. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be discreet.”