Change of Heart (The Potentate of Atlanta Book 3) Page 22

  “Okay, okay.” I shoved him. “Knock it off.”

  Bishop understood better than most why Midas had flipped out on me, and we hadn’t gotten into the gory details of my past. Then again, Midas went to Savannah. He could learn anything and everything about Amelie there. No conversation with me required.

  The window rattled, and then it thumped. No. Someone was knocking on it. I had to hunt for the remote that operated the blackout curtains, and it took a minute to figure out which button to push, but I got them raised in time to spot Midas putting the finishing touches on what promised to be my new favorite place. Maybe in the world.

  “Let them get it out of their systems,” Midas said through the glass. “I deserve to walk the gauntlet.”

  “How did you do all this?” Fumbling the latch, I pushed the window open onto the fire escape. “I didn’t hear a thing.”

  “Lisbeth loaned me a charm.” He finished twisting fairy lights on the railing. “What do you think?”

  A bright weatherproof rug covered the metal grating underfoot, and a pair of blue wicker chairs huddled in one corner with a matching table between them. Lush plants I hoped he would remember to water, because I never would, sat in colored pots at the other end. Wooden poles had been mounted to the side of the building to support an awning of coordinating fabric, and more lights wrapped its frame before spreading across the railing to where Midas stood beside an outdoor bean bag large enough for me to nap on, or for a gwyllgi on four legs to flop on if he chose.

  I got the feeling Lisbeth had loaned him more than the charm. Probably her sense of style too.

  “This is amazing.” I touched the poles. “How did you get permission from management?”

  “Half of the Faraday’s prestige is wrapped up in having the potentate in residence these days. It’s been a huge selling point since Linus moved in, and that trend shows no signs of slowing down soon. I reminded the owners of that and suggested a few minor changes to make your new space homier might convince you to stay in residence after a security breach almost cost you your life.”

  Until the Faraday became famous among the paranormal set for housing the current potentate, it had been legendary for its security. The gwyllgi on staff were hardly to blame for the coven’s ability to blend. They wore people’s identities that we had known, trusted, and they were hard to catch in the act. It cost the security team points, though. Publicly. I regretted that, but I also couldn’t spread word on the street about the coven without risking them burrowing in even deeper.

  “That’s sneaky.” I climbed out to join him. “I approve.”

  “We spend so much time avoiding preferential treatment, I thought it made for a nice change to instead apply it where it would do the most good.”

  “And that’s my fire escape?”

  “You like the freedom of coming and going without announcing your movements to everyone in the building.” He kicked the bag chair. “I figured it might be smart to pad my own doghouse for the next time I do something monumentally stupid while I was at it.”

  “You sound certain it’s going to happen.”

  “Other than the girl I promised to mate when I was five, I’ve never been in a relationship.”

  “Same.” I blew out a long sigh. “Minus the mated-at-five thing. Even then, I was wary of commitment.”

  I was two years old when my mother struck me for the first time. I don’t remember it, exactly, but I do know that was the year my daycare teachers reported me crying whenever it was time for our parents to pick us up from class. They laughed it off as me wanting to stay and play with friends, but it got to the point they became concerned. That’s when Mother started sending Boaz for me. I couldn’t say no to him, though he always took me to the one place I wanted to go least: home.

  “You don’t have to make one until you’re ready.” He plugged in the lights, and the twinkle cast us in a warm glow. “You’re not gwyllgi. Our rules are our rules, not yours. You don’t have to follow them. I never should have put that pressure on you.”

  The flickering lights illuminated all the faces pressed against the glass watching our private moment.

  “We’ll, uh, finish this later.” I pecked him on the cheek then unplugged the lights. “We’ve got to move out. Smythe is waiting.”

  Midas lingered against the railing. “Am I invited?”

  The tension I already caused between him and the pack worried me. “I didn’t want to assume…”

  “I have another present for you.” He passed me a crisp paper embossed with an official seal. “This might help.”

  The top sheet of what I now saw was a thin packet blocked out a route leading from Centennial Olympic Park out of the city. The bottom was a copy of a permit for a parade. A frakking parade.

  “How did you push this through so fast?” I goggled at him. “It’s legit?”

  A nighttime parade, okay, plausible, but no crowds allowed? How did he expect to manage that?

  “Mom pulled a few strings.” He sobered. “She wants the Martian Roaches exterminated too.”

  “Police escort?” Bishop asked from over my shoulder. “That complicates things.”

  “They’re sentinels,” he explained. “Lizzy arranged it.”

  “Smart.” I passed the paper to Bishop so he would stop breathing down my neck. “I’m impressed.”

  “They’re going to maintain a perimeter for us,” Midas continued, earning bonus points. “I asked the pack for volunteers to herd the roaches. If Smythe can get them out into the open and keep them sedate, we can take it from there.” He shrugged. “I’ve got the cleaners on standby too. They’ll handle any witnesses and collateral damage.”

  “Who spilled the beans to you?” I surveyed the room, the guilty faces. “I didn’t tell anyone but Bishop.”

  “I updated the team, but that’s it.” Bishop got it a beat before I did, and we said together, “Lisbeth.”

  Ford shifted his weight and kept his head down. “She might have mentioned it.”

  Aside from leaking privileged information, I had other worries. “You’re still talking?”

  “A little.” He cleared his throat. “She won’t get into trouble, will she?”

  Lisbeth had hunted down each of my closest allies and brought them here to help me. I couldn’t work up a good mad over that. But I would have to sit her down and read her the riot act if she planned on Ford becoming a fixture in her life.

  “Not this time,” I promised him. “We’ll have to have a talk about boundaries, though.”

  Unlucky for me, I had recent experience in that area. Lucky for her, I hadn’t managed it well either.

  Guess it would be a learning curve for us both.

  “Let’s move out.” I made a twirling gesture with my hand. “We don’t have long.”

  The others got moving, but I had trouble convincing my feet to get with the program. Plain and simple, I didn’t want to turn my back on Midas. I was afraid he might disappear.

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Then you’re not going to be much use herding roaches.”

  “Okay,” he amended. “I am leaving, but I’m also coming back.”

  After a quick check to make sure we were finally alone, I had to ask, “Are you sure?”

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  “What you heard in Savannah…” I wet my lips. “It’s all true.”

  “No one told me a thing.”

  That shocked me enough I stumbled back. “What?”

  “I didn’t ask them, and they didn’t volunteer information.”

  “You visited Linus and Grier.” I clenched my hand on the rail. “I thought that was why.”

  “I thought that was why too, but I couldn’t bring myself to violate your privacy that way.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this last night?”

  “I wasn’t sure you would believe me. I hoped you would open up to me if I shared my past with you.”

  “I thought you kn
ew.” A pit formed in the middle of my stomach. “I thought you made peace with it and that’s why you came back.”

  “I was there when most of it happened,” he admitted. “I had already formed my opinion of Amelie, but I want to hear Hadley’s version of the story.” He toyed with the lights. “I want to understand, and you’re the only person I trust to get the details right.”

  During the darkest time in my life, he had been in Savannah with his sister’s pack. He might have stayed there if Tisdale hadn’t put her foot down and demanded her heir return to Atlanta. As he had in Faerie, Midas sacrificed himself for his sister. He let her stay in a city she had grown to love, with her new friends, free of her mother’s shadow, and come back to drape the mantle of beta around his shoulders.

  “You guys will have to finish this later.” Bishop snapped his fingers out the window. “Let’s roll out.”

  “He’s right.” I had no trouble climbing through the window with the fear of my past chasing me. “We should go.” I glanced back at Midas. “You’re coming?”

  “I meant what I said.” Midas caught me by the hand. “I’m not going anywhere.” He shrugged. “Except to the roach parade.”

  Now I couldn’t decide which made me more nervous. The upcoming spectacle or coming clean with Midas on my own terms. Either way, I was glad he would be there for both.

  Twenty-Five

  Eustice greeted us at the mouth of the alley in his dog form, wagged his tail, and invited us to follow him to the entrance. I could see through the glamour, so I led the others right to Smythe’s door. He greeted us with a backpack strapped on, a headset around his neck, and a duffle in each hand vomiting speakers.

  “You’re late.” He shuffled out the door. “I can’t feel my hands.”

  “Let me help.” I took one bag, and Midas the other. “Better?”

  “Ah, no.” Smythe flexed his fingers. “I still can’t feel a thing, though it might be the excitement.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” I comforted him. “We’re all on edge.”

  “The refuge is prepared?” He smiled up at me. “They’ll be safe there?”

  As gross as I found roaches, I hated lying to the guy. “Everything is in order.”

  I didn’t know the details, and I didn’t want to know them. I was leaving the ugly bits up to Bishop.

  Bishop couldn’t lie. He was fae. That didn’t mean he couldn’t tap dance around the truth like Gene Kelly.

  “The roaches will get the sendoff they deserve,” he said, a gleam in his eye. “Trust me.”

  Smythe babbled about the wonders of roachkind until I tuned him out in favor of strategizing with Bishop. It was that or throw up my breakfast.

  Midas hung back with the other gwyllgi, but his stare itched between my shoulder blades.

  Remy was gone, up to the rooftops, but she had her cell with her. The OPA was on surveillance duty, and she was coordinating with them to ensure the gwyllgi rounded up any roaches that broke from the herd.

  The streets were eerily quiet as we walked the predetermined route to check it for obstacles or gawkers. Police radios crackled in the distance, and voices reached us every so often, but the sentinels were doing an A-plus job of keeping any curious citizens at a safe distance.

  “We’ll set up here,” Smythe announced. “This area is perfect.”

  The spot on the lawn he had chosen in Olympic Centennial Park looked the same as all the others to me, but he would know best.

  A tinkling lullaby grew louder and closer, and I reeled in Ambrose as I spotted an ice cream truck rolling into view. “How did that get past the sentinels?”

  “Oh.” Bishop glanced over. “That’s our ride.”

  A Remy hopped out, jogged over, and tossed Bishop the keys. She kept right on going without a word.

  “You rented an ice cream truck?” I ignored the rumble in my stomach. “Why?”

  “Normal roaches can run up to three miles per hour. Who knows what top speed is for these guys?” He jingled the keys in his palm. “We need a way to keep up with them that won’t put us at a disadvantage.”

  “And snacks?”

  Not that I was complaining about that part, mind you.

  “The sound system, kid.” He shook his head. “Think about it.”

  I was too busy wondering if they had cleaned out the coolers full of ice cream to focus on technical details. I loved those chocolate taco things. I hadn’t had one in years.

  A high-pitched noise, almost violinlike, rent the night air, and Smythe began cackling like a mad scientist.

  “Here we go.” I clasped Bishop on the back. “Do we need his speakers too or…?”

  The plan would fail if we kept piping in music here too. We had to centralize it, and, I guess, mobilize it.

  “Good call.” He jogged over to Smythe. “Time to take your show on the road.”

  “We’ll have to hurry.” He stared off into the shadows. “They’re coming.”

  A shudder rocked me head to toe. Martian Roaches were hard to kill, but I had seen Smythe control one. I had to believe this idea would work to scale, and that we could perform one mass extermination.

  What could possibly go wrong, right?

  Together we shoved his equipment into the back of the ice cream truck and ran the audio through the built-in speakers. As we loaded Smythe into the passenger seat, the first roach scuttled into view, antennae bouncing in time to the music.

  “That’s our cue.” Bishop cranked up and strapped in. “How long will it take the others to arrive?”

  A second and third roach rocked out beside the first, and all three of them boogied our way.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when the first pair of red eyes winked into existence.

  “W-w-what is that?” Smythe clutched the dash. “I don’t understand.”

  “Hadley’s boyfriend is a gwyllgi.” Bishop kept it low-key. “The pack offered to help us herd the roaches.”

  “Oh.” Smythe nodded. “That’s all right then.”

  A rustling, whispery noise assailed my ears, and now it was my turn to ask, “What is that?”

  “They’re coming.” He bounced on his seat. “They’re…glorious.”

  “Took the words right out of my mouth.” Bishop failed to hide his cringe. “That is a lot of roach.”

  Two dozen by my count, and the weird sounds kept coming.

  “Am I imagining things,” I asked Bishop, “or do those four have numbers painted on their backs?”

  “Technically,” Smythe said, “you mean their carapaces.”

  Ignoring him, I counted up six with numbers ranging up to twenty-five. “That’s not good.”

  Remy pounded her fist on Bishop’s half door, and I leaned around him. “What’s up?”

  “See those painted pests?”

  Smythe choked on his indignation, but I was getting better at blocking him out. “Yeah.”

  “I spotted one and got curious, tracked it back to its source.” Her eyes brightened. “I think I found the coven’s home base. These guys? They broke out of a holding pen. They must be the dairy cows for Faete.”

  “That is fantastic news.”

  “Except four coven members were home at the time, and they lost their shit when the bugs escaped.”

  “That is less than fantastic news.”

  We already had our hands full, and we didn’t need more trouble.

  “Hey.” I caught her before she left. “Why not call with updates?”

  “We only have one phone.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it’s quicker to run to you than to One.”

  The way she replicated herself, copying her clothes and hairstyle with each self, I hadn’t stopped to think it wouldn’t extend to technology. I would have to find a workaround for that. Maybe walkie-talkies. A fix that wouldn’t end up with me paying six more phone bills on the company dime.

  “Let us know when the coven mobilizes.” I waved her off then faced Bishop. “This complicates things.”

&nb
sp; A line bisected his brow. “We need those—”

  Hearts.

  That’s what he was thinking. I was too. I didn’t like it, but it was going through my head.

  “Yes, we do.” I cut my eyes toward Smythe. “But we’re going to have our hands full.”

  Coven members held the advantage from the get-go. Fighting multiples at once? That was a recipe for disaster. Considering they must have had some measure of control over the roaches or they couldn’t have used them against us, I had no illusions this wasn’t about to go south on us. Fast.

  “Enough are gathered to leave a rich chemical trail.” Smythe fiddled with the controls in his lap. “We can lead them out. The rest will follow.”

  With the coven on our heels, I didn’t have time to second-guess him. We might not get them all, but we could strike a blow to their Faete supply, not to mention save the lives of future hosts.

  “You heard the man.” I gripped the back of Bishop’s seat and held on for the ride. “Roll out.”

  The truck puttered forward as Bishop tested the roaches’ speed and the distance at which they heard the music, for Smythe’s sake. We got up to a comfortable forty-five miles per hour, and I could only imagine how our procession must have looked from the outside.

  An ice cream truck that had seen better days, blasting a noise that fell between a cat fight and the death of a stringed instrument, while dozens of man-sized roaches scurried in our wake.

  I was going to have nightmares about this for years.

  Since Bishop had things under control, I checked in with the sentinels and then with the cleaners. Anca had drawn surveillance duty on the OPA side of things while Lisbeth and Milo kept an eye on the city for me. They didn’t have full control of the cameras, like Bishop did from his command center, but they could make do. Especially with Remys on the ground.

  Please don’t let this blow up in my face.

  I really did not want to have to explain to Linus how I let this happen if it all went sideways. Don’t get me wrong. The Giant Martian Roach Parade that Swarmed Atlanta would make a fantastic creature feature. I would totally hit a matinee for that. But I would prefer making Linus proud to making him wonder if I had been inhaling bug spray to dream up this cockamamie idea.