The conversation with Jerome and the whole situation faded into the background. My heart was thumping fast as I stared at my phone. Ren couldn’t be missing. Twenty-four hours hadn’t even passed since the last time I’d seen him. Granted, the length of time didn’t matter, but I refused to believe he had just disappeared. No way. My brain couldn’t even process that.
There was a good chance he was taking some unplanned and unapproved leave time after I’d dropped that bomb on him, but would he really not tell David? Ren was too responsible to do that.
As I walked back toward the Quarter, I ignored the way my pulse was all over the place, and called Ren. The likelihood of him answering my call when he wasn’t answering David’s was slim, but I had to try.
The phone rang and went to voicemail. For a moment, I didn’t know if I should leave a message or not, and then told myself I was being stupid. The words tumbled out. “Ren, this is Ivy. I’m calling you because David is looking for you. He’s been trying to reach you and you—well, obviously you know you haven’t returned his call.” Rolling my eyes, I stopped at the corner of St. Louis and Basin. “Anyway, can you call him back? I don’t expect you to call me. But just call him back. Please.”
Hanging up, I slipped my phone back in my bag and then brushed the fine wisps of hair back from my face. I glanced over at the cemetery. Nervous laughter could be heard as a tour guide regaled them with stories about Voodoo queen Marie Laveau and her daughter.
Acid churned in my stomach like I had drunk bad milk. What if the prince had gotten hold of Ren? The mere thought of that robbed the air from my lungs. Ren could hate me and want to gouge his eyeballs out at the sight of me, but I wanted him to live.
Okay. There was no need to panic right now. I had to go to the headquarters because David reminded me about the stupid report before he’d hung up, but I’d be passing where Ren had parked his truck yesterday afternoon. I could see if it was still there. If it was there, then that . . . yeah, that could be something to get concerned over.
I picked up my pace, and it took about fifteen minutes to get to where Ren had parked. Entering the small, dimly lit garage, I shivered since it was at least ten degrees cooler here than outside. He’d parked on the second level, the top floor. I headed toward the cement stairs. The garage was small, only fitting about fifty cars, but some days it was packed like a can of sardines. Today was one of them. The entire place smelled of gas fumes and body odor.
I rounded the second-floor landing and hurried toward the back of the garage, walking around the stained pillars as I scanned the row of vehicles. I knew he’d parked somewhere in the middle, but as I reached the back, I didn’t see his truck anywhere.
That was a good sign, I told myself as I looked out the dust and dirt-covered window, down to the street below. His truck being gone meant he came back to it at some point last night. The truck being here would have meant he’d never made it back, and there would be very limited reasons that didn’t include something horrific for why that would happen.
Still, as I turned around, I wasn’t exactly relieved. I took a step and then stopped as I heard footsteps. My gaze swung to the right as my eyes narrowed. My paranoia blew through the roof, and my hand drifted to the dagger concealed at my hip, under my shirt.
A second later, a tall and slender man stepped out from behind a dark green van. On first glance, he looked super normal. Long-sleeved shirt and denim jeans, but within seconds the fa?ade of normalcy faded away, revealing the truth beneath the glamour I’d been warded at birth to see through.
Holy shit.
He was a fae.
There was an actual fae in the garage, and normally this wouldn’t be a big deal, but since no one other than my lucky ass had seen a fae since the gate had opened, this was huge.
The fae walked into the center of the garage, his steps slow and measured. He appeared older than most, and his silvery-white hair was shorn short. I unhooked my dagger.
He stopped, raising his hands at his sides in a universal don’t-kill-me gesture, which I knew better than to trust. I tightened my grasp. The fae opened his mouth as if he were to speak.
Another fae appeared at the top of the stairs. Crap. A female stalked forward purposefully. No fae in days and days, and I end up with two of them?
Oh, but I had a lot of pent-up aggression to work out of my system, so this could be a good thing.
The male turned, his arms dropping. “No—” His words were cut off as the female fae rushed forward, her long, icy-blonde hair streaming out behind her. She held something—a dagger, most definitely an iron dagger.