When we reached the main street in the Grassmarket, which had nothing at all to do with grass—at least not these days—we made our way quickly toward the portal that would take us to the Undercover Protectorate’s castle. The portal sat within a darkened alley between a bar and a tartan shop, glowing blue and bright. Only members of the Protectorate could see and enter it.
I stepped through the portal last, letting the ether suck me in. It was a wild ride before it spat me out in a small enchanted forest in Northern Scotland. Night birds chirped, and the wind whistled through the ancient, twisted trees. The forest sat within the walls of the castle, and the portal connected it to the city, giving us easy access to everything we could want.
Bree stumbled out of the portal after me, grinning. “I love how close we are to downtown.”
“Me too.”
We hurried down the path that cut between the gnarled trees. Fairy lights danced around us, sparkling and bright, but the fae were long gone from here.
When we stepped out onto the rolling lawn that surrounded the castle, the moonlight gleamed on the massive structure that sat in the middle. Towers and turrets reached for the sky, while the mullioned glass glittered with golden light from within.
“I’ll never get sick of it,” Bree said.
“Same.” The Protectorate had found us a few months ago when we’d been in seriously dire straits, about to be killed by a wizard who we’d run afoul of.
Because of our rare magic, the Protectorate had invited us to work with them—if we could pass their training academy.
“At this rate, it’s going to be years before I pass,” I said.
“You’re doing better than you think,” Bree said.
I hoped she was right, because I really wanted to earn my place here.
The alternative was…unthinkable.
Ahead of us, Jude and the rest of the class hurried across the lawn to the castle, but Bree and I veered toward the old stables that sat near the huge wall that surrounded the castle grounds.
Rowan would be in there, no doubt, and we wanted to check up on her. A month ago, we’d rescued her from captivity. She’d spent five horrible years as a hostage, but she was starting to adjust well. Nothing kept Rowan down for long. There were still shadows in her eyes, but they were fading.
The old stone stables no longer contained horses, though the smell still lingered. Instead, it served as the castle’s garage.
As expected, we found Rowan in the stables with the buggy, our souped-up monster truck that we’d brought with us from our old life. We’d joined the Protectorate back in the summer, leaving behind Death Valley Junction, a remote desert town full of supernaturals where we’d spent most of our lives hiding from the ones who hunted us.
We’d made a living by driving outlaws through Death Valley, and the buggy was the only thing that had helped us make it across safely. It was totally armored, covered with poisoned spikes, and outfitted with platforms from which to fight off the desert monsters who haunted the valley.
It’d been a fun life, but ultimately, we’d wanted more. And living out in the open had been too dangerous for Dragon Gods like ourselves. We were hunted and feared—folks either wanted to use us for our magic or kill us.
This was a safer life, and a better one. Here, we had an opportunity to do good in the world.
As long as I could pass the Academy.
In the stable, Rowan’s booted feet stuck out from under the front of the buggy. It was my baby—I’d helped build every bit of it. If I could operate from this thing, I’d ace the Academy.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t allowed.
Rowan rolled out from under the truck and grinned up at us. “How’d it go?”
“Not great.” I winced at the memory of coming in last.
She stood, her black hair shining. She wore all black, too, looking stark and beautiful. “That’s okay. You’re still doing better than me.”
Ever since her escape a month ago, she hadn’t been able to access her magic. It could have been a result of trauma or something else, but we had no idea.
“You’ll get it back.”
“Maybe.” She walked toward the side table and set down her wrench. “I’m working on it.”
I needed to quit whining about my own problems. Rowan had it far worse than me, and she managed. True, she was up at three a.m. and working on the truck, so obviously she had some demons. But she wasn’t a whiner.
Her gaze traveled past Bree and me, landing on the open door behind. “Who are they?”
I turned, spotting the Cats of Catastrophe. “My new friends, I think.” I looked back at Rowan. “How’s the engine? Making progress?”
“Yeah, it’s tricky, but I’m almost there.”
“I can help tomorrow.” I wanted to. Working on the buggy was one of my favorite things. It was soothing. Made me feel in control.
“We should all get some sleep,” Bree said.
“Yeah.” Rowan’s jaw tightened.
“Nightmares?” I asked.
“Sometimes.”
Always. It was unspoken but clear.
Footsteps sounded behind us, and I turned.
Caro appeared in the doorway, her short platinum bob gleaming. She was a water mage, and one of the members of the PITs, Jude’s investigative team. She’d become our best friend here, along with Ali and Haris, who were behind her. The two dark-haired djinn’s weren’t kicking their usual hacky sack between them. That, combined with the worry on Caro’s face, made nerves flutter in my stomach. She was usually smiling and peppy—albeit murderous with her water power—so this wasn’t going to be good.
“Meeting time,” Caro said. “We’ve got to hightail it to the round room.”
“The round room?” Crap. That meant it was a big deal. I looked at the massive clock on the other side of the garage. Past 3 a.m., but if it was in the round room…
“Come on.” Caro gestured for us to follow, and we did, flipping off the lights and shutting the door.
The round room was the equivalent of the Protectorate’s war room. When something was really bad, all hands gathered in there. Most of the people were full-time staff who lived at and worked out of the castle, solving magical crimes and protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. There were only a few students at any given moment.
As the six of us walked across the lawn toward the castle, Caro chatted about castle gossip, with Ali and Haris chiming in occasionally. I glanced behind us. The cats were keeping up. As we stepped onto the stone-paved courtyard, the massive wooden doors swung open to permit us entrance.
I stepped through, glancing behind me one last time.
The Cats of Catastrophe strolled along behind us, eyes keen on me.
“Are you seriously following me all the way home?” I asked.
The sphynx gave a low, deep meow that sounded a heck of a lot like a yes. I turned back to enter the main hall, having no idea what to do about the cats.
“You’ve got sidekicks,” Bree said.
A ghostly blue pug flew into the entry hall, transparent wings holding it aloft. The little creature had a big ham gripped in its teeth, but as soon as its gaze landed on Bree, it gave a yip of delight, managing not to drop the ham.
“Speaking of sidekicks.” I pointed to Mayhem, who was most definitely Bree’s sidekick.
Bree grinned at the little pug, who flew circles around her head. We headed toward the round room, with Mayhem leading the way down the stone corridor. The castle was huge, with many different construction styles from all periods in history. This hallway looked ancient, but others looked new—like a fancy mansion.
It was a long way from our old rundown place in Death Valley, that was for sure. We’d barely survived there, so this was a major upgrade.
I felt a prickle at the back of my neck, and I looked behind me.
The Cats of Catastrophe followed along, my silent shadows. I stopped and turned, putting my hands on my hips. “I really appreciate your help, guys. But I don’t know if you’re supposed to be here. I’m kinda new myself, so I can’t really vouch for you.”
Princess Snowflake III glared at me, the little orange one raced ahead to try to catch Mayhem, and Muffin licked his butt.
“You sure told them,” Bree said.
I huffed a laugh. “As if I have any authority over cats.”
I gave them one last look, then sighed and turned around.