"I know it's your job, but just . . . don't go. You don't need to be there," he insisted. "You don't have to be there."
Unease curled in my chest like a snake. Tink had never asked me to not head out and hunt—never once. Tonight was different though. We wouldn't be hunting fae. I knew they'd be coming right at us.
I shook my head. "I have to, Tink. It's my job. You know that."
He looked as if he was going to say something else, but he snapped his jaw shut and his wings drooped as I stepped around him. He followed me to the front door, saying nothing while I picked up my keys and cellphone.
Tink landed on the chair normally stacked with Amazon boxes and clutched the back of it. "Ivy?"
"Yeah?"
His pale blue eyes were wide and solemn. "Please be careful, because there . . . there are worse things than death if that gate opens."
~
Tink's parting words haunted me as I made my way to Royal Street. Not exactly the thing I wanted to be thinking about as I dodged tourists caught in the rain and nearly lost an eyeball a couple of times when the sharp pointy ends of the umbrellas got up close and personal.
As the brick house on Royal Street came into view through the drizzle, I saw Dylan standing outside, under the balcony. I thought about the way David had watched him leave the meeting Tuesday afternoon. Did they think Dylan was the traitor? I didn't know him that well, but he'd always seemed like an okay guy to me. Then again, what did I know? Even though the members were like a family to me, they were more like distant cousins I saw on holidays. I wasn't close to a lot of them.
Dylan nodded at me as I passed him. The door was unlocked, and as soon as I stepped inside the foyer, it was like being transported back in time.
A time where it was in fashion to have homes that smelled like mothballs and furniture that looked like something you'd find in a Pride and Prejudice movie.
An ancient chaise lounge and couch were situated in the middle of the room, in front of a fireplace I really hoped wasn't in use based on the condition of the crumbling chimney.
There was an archway leading into what I assumed was a kitchen. I could hear members in there talking. I turned to the steep, narrow stairway. David stood at the top, arms folded over his chest as he spoke to Ren.
My heartstrings felt like they were strings on a puppet. They danced and shook the moment I saw him. He's mine. Those were the words that crossed my mind, and the tips of my ears started to burn. But it was true. As I slowly climbed the stairs, I knew beyond a doubt that he was mine.
Ren turned as I neared the top, his mouth tilting up to reveal the right dimple. I didn't know how to act in front of David, so I stopped a good foot away from Ren.
David gave me his typical angry face stare as we eyeballed each other, and then he said, "You make sure you walk back down those stairs, Ivy."
Surprised, I stuttered out, "Y-You too."
I watched the sect leader stroll into a room catty-corner to the stairwell. "I think he likes me. Deep down, I think he really does."
"He does." Ren touched the curve of my back lightly. "Because who doesn't?"
"A lot of people."
"I don't believe that," he replied. "You're just too damn likeable."
I smiled at him when all I really wanted to do was stand on my tiptoes and lay one on him. Funny how a month ago, laying one on Ren equaled punching him in the face and not kissing him. I grinned. My how times had changed.
He stepped closer. "What are you grinning about?"
"Nothing." My grin spread into a smile.
His gaze drifted over my face. "God, you're beautiful when you're not smiling, but when you are? Fucking breathtaking."
I flushed at the compliment and was aware that the Order members roaming around on the second floor were giving us the side eye, but I wanted to say something to Ren just in case . . . in case we didn't get the chance later. Looking up, I met the brilliant hue of his green eyes. "Thank you for today. It was . . . wonderful."
"You don't need to thank me," he said in a hushed voice.
"No, I do. It was probably my favorite day in, well, forever." The heat had moved from the tips of my ears to my face. "I just wanted you to know that." He smiled, showing off both dimples, and I decided it was way past time to change the topic of conversation before I was lost to that smile and ended up acting like a goober. "So, the gateway? Where is it?"
Ren glanced at the doorway across the room. "It's in the master bedroom. Want to check it out?"
Nodding, I followed him across the hall and into a large room that was empty. I imagined that at one time, back in its heyday, it probably contained a four-poster bed and beautiful, handcrafted furniture, but now its bare floors were dusty, its fireplace cold.
I started to ask where the gateway was when Miles turned sideways, responding to something Rachel Adams said, and that's when I saw it with my own eyes.
I assumed it was the door to a closet or maybe another room, I wasn't sure, but there was no mistaking that it was not a normal doorway.
The shimmering blue light shining through the cracks all around the door might've given it away. Or it could be the numerous locks on the outside, because seriously, who had deadbolts on doors inside a house. And if none of that was glaringly obvious, it could be the fact that the door was shaking and rattling, as if something on the other side was trying to get through.
That was because something was trying to get through.
Holy crap. That was a legit doorway to the Otherworld. Part of me couldn't believe I was actually seeing one. As terrible as what the gateway represented, I was still awed being in the presence of one.
I stepped forward. "Is it . . . is it always like that?"
Miles answered. "Normally, it's quiet, but as it gets closer to either the equinox or the solstice, it starts to act up."
"And it was always here?" I glanced at him. "This doorway, even before the house was built?"
"I imagine so," he explained. "Before the house, I have no idea how it appeared, but it would've been on these grounds somehow. Once the house was built, our records indicate that the doorway appeared in this room. People never lived long in this house."
Obviously.
Before the Order discovered the door and closed it, the fae had used it to move back and forth between the realms. Coming through the door with humans living in the house had to have been mighty convenient for the fae.
I saw Val walk into the room, her red shirt standing out so brightly amongst the darker tones everyone else was wearing. She headed in my direction, but like me, she was staring at the door.
"That is crazy," she said, stopping between Ren and me. "It's like an episode of Ghost Adventures or something. I mean, can you imagine moving into this lovely two-story home and it comes with a door that glows blue and shakes just four times a year?"
I snorted, but Ren appeared largely unamused as he glanced down at Val, but she seemed unaware of the coolness radiating from him. I frowned, having no idea what the deal was with that, but this wasn't the time to question it.
Downstairs, Order members were forming a first line of defense, so to speak. Their job was to block the stairs, and our job was to keep the door protected. I assumed the same thing was happening at the church, as needless as that was.
Something struck me then, and I turned to Miles. "How active is the door at the church? Is it like this one?"
He scowled at my question but nodded. That didn't make sense to me. If the brownies had destroyed that door, why would it be like this one? Or did destroying the door even affect the light show going on right now? I'd have to ask Tink later.