Shadows of the Sky

1. Reine-2

Micah and Minerva brought me out of the office and to a conference room, where two striking people stood embroiled in an intense conversation about Lawrence and the best option. The woman, who appeared to be in her fifties, but whom I sensed had more like five or so centuries behind her, stood with hands on hips and chin up—a pose of authority. She wanted him moved to her house. I both liked her and immediately distrusted her, conflicting instincts that intrigued me. Her energy said gargoyle, and the passion with which she argued plus her features and magical signature told me who she was—Lawrence’s mother.

Wait—Minerva had referred to her as “mother.” Lawrence had siblings he didn’t know about? But how? Why hadn’t his mother told him?

I could figure that out later. I needed to attend to what was happening.

The other person, a handsome man in a white lab coat, argued against allowing Lawrence to leave the hospital, citing the uniqueness of the case. He fiddled with his badge pull around his neck that displayed his hospital ID—scowling picture and all. His short dark brown hair curled at his temples with sweat, and a dark fringe of lashes ringed his eyes. Stubble stood out against his jaw, and he spoke with a lilting accent. Italian. In him, I sensed stubbornness, the need for justice and fairness, and the same desire I had—to heal the world, no matter the creature. Again, conflicting impulses—to like him and be wary of him—hit me. He didn’t have a shifter aura. In fact, his aura was so skillfully hidden, I couldn’t tell what he was,. A powerful wizard, perhaps?

The Aerie was to be a place of contradictions, mysteries, and powerful beings, it seemed.

It was too late to hide who I was from Micah and Minerva, but I quickly glamoured myself so I’d appear to be a young woman, late twenties to early thirties with white blonde hair and totally normal ears. The ID in my wallet, which thankfully had come with me in my handbag along with my phone and keys, said I was named Renee River, and if someone searched for me, they’d find I had an appointment as a physician specializing in rare disorders at a small hospital in Scotland.

When my glamour took hold, the man stopped and turned toward me with a frown. He rubbed his left ear. Definitely some talent there, and it was time to turn on the charm.

The woman followed his gaze, and her scowl mirrored Minerva’s. Yes, relation confirmed.

“Is this her?” she asked in the same tone one would inquire about a turd found in the refrigerator.

“Yes, ma’am.” Minerva sounded more meek than I thought possible.

Lawrence’s mum studied me for a full minute. I refused to be intimidated, and so I regarded her in turn. Finally, she told me, “I am Agnes Gordon, Regent of the Gargoyle Clan.”

I attempted to keep my surprise from showing. Lawrence was a prince, or at least the equivalent? Whereas in many cases, it could have made our situation easier, this bit of knowledge introduced a whole new set of complications.

The man cleared his throat and smiled at me. I felt his charm switch on, and I grinned back, relieved that at least someone would be friendly. Maybe. Or maybe it would be better to face open hostility than hidden enmity. I decided I’d enjoy his deceptive warmth, but I wouldn’t fall for it.

“I am Doctor Barton Lucia.” He didn’t extend his hand. Ah, he was accustomed to dealing with magical beings.

“Doctor Renee River.” Then, because the question kept burning in my mind, I added, “Is Lawrence all right?”

The Regent answered. “You don’t have to tell her anything. She’s not family. She doesn’t have any right to know about his condition.”

He spoke patiently, but an edge of exasperation came through. “No, but perhaps she can enlighten me as to how it developed, which will help me treat him.”

Touché. In spite of myself, I liked Doctor Barton Lucia more with every second.

Agnes returned to speaking around me. “What do you know of her, Minerva? Is she trustworthy?”

“I am still gathering data. She’s a legit doctor. Max Fortuna vouches for her, as does the former Lycanthrope Council Investigator, Gabriel McCord.”

Agnes didn’t soften, but she did regard me with a little more respect in spite of saying, “Friends in low places, I see. Fine, you can help with Lawrence’s case, but you are not to reveal who—or what—you are to anyone outside this room.”

Barton Lucia looked between the two of us. “And who, or what, is she?”

Agnes wrinkled her nose. “She’s a Fae. Can’t you tell?”

He crossed his arms and c****d his head. “Her glamour is compelling. She shouldn’t have any trouble hiding who she is.”

I sensed a partial truth to his words, but I smiled. “Thank you, Regent Gordon.” I declined to tell her about my own royal lineage or title. There was no point getting into a pissing contest with her, and I could always invoke my Fae queen rank later if needed.

“Come, let’s grab some coffee, and you can tell me how Doctor Gordon ended up in his current condition.” Barton spread his hands. “Within what you’re able, of course. I won’t pry into your personal business.”

At least someone here had some respect.

“Good.” Agnes nodded like she’d arranged everything, not him. “I’m going to go see my son. You said that will be all right, Doctor Lucia?”

“Yes, just don’t try to wake him. He’ll come out of it when he’s ready. I’m going to discuss the next steps with Doctor River.”

Agnes swept out of the room with Micah and Minerva, leaving me with Doctor Lucia.

“I’ll have my assistant bring some coffee. How do you take yours?”

I recognized the old dance, and I almost sagged with gratitude for someone following protocol. I held up my cup. “That’s not necessary, but thank you. I’m fine with my tea, and I acknowledge your keeping with the accords of hospitality toward Fae.” An old-fashioned gentleman would be more difficult to keep my guard up around, and I sensed I’d enjoy the challenge until he got comfortable, crossed one ankle over his other knee, and asked his first question.

“You’re welcome. All right, then. Please tell me how a gargoyle ended up with Fae Fire poisoning.”