circled someone in item number three and offered Hadrian the pen. She thought he might make the same answer, that either his cousin or his friend would volunteer for the first role and the other would be the thief.
Hadrian tapped it for a minute, then wrote.
A djinn.
Their gazes met and held. A djinn was a perfect choice. They could be terrific thieves and spies, given their ability to disappear into mist without warning. They were elusive and silent.
But they had to hate Rania. No djinn was going to be in a hurry to save Rania from the Dark Queen’s clutches. She pointed at the bichuwa, the holster back on her hip, and Hadrian sighed.
He took the pen.
You could apologize and ask for help at Bones. That might convince the Others to join us.
Rania exhaled and took a step back. She frowned at the very idea. She’d never spoken to her victims until Hadrian, and had never faced the consequences of her actions. She certainly wasn’t in a hurry to meet anyone who hated her, but she met Hadrian’s gaze and found understanding there. He nodded gently.
Maybe she could explain.
Maybe they’d help for the sake of the greater good.
Maybe her apology would make the difference.
She took the pen, hesitated, then wrote something she’d never expected to confess.
I’m afraid.
Hadrian smiled with that alluring confidence and reclaimed the pen, his fingers brushing over hers.
It’s only sensible. But I’ll have your back.
He winked at her, as cocky as ever, and Rania found herself smiling. Maybe she could do it. It certainly was worth a try. She nodded and Hadrian caught her close, rewarding her with a kiss that had the Pyr protesting that they weren’t paying attention.
But they were.
And they had to find a djinn to help.
Hadrian was so proud of Rania that he thought he might burst. It couldn’t be easy to face the crowd at Bones, given her past, but she took them both to New York in a flash. Once the decision was made, she didn’t hesitate or try to avoid a hard task. He respected that she was so unflinching.
It was late in Manhattan and the sky was dark overhead. Hadrian couldn’t see the stars because of the ambient light of the city. He was surprised, as always, by the noise level. He could hear cars honking on the closest avenue and the sound of traffic, buses rumbled and hissed, the subway growled deep beneath her feet, making the concrete vibrate. There were voices in the distance and the persistent throb of dance music. A door slammed and dogs barked, something clanged in an alley and a cat howled at a distance.
The door to Bones was steel and not the most welcoming entrance Hadrian had ever seen. Rania regarded it with obvious trepidation and he dropped his hand to the back of her waist. “We should go in,” he said and she smiled up at him, her uncertainty clear. He would have done this for her, if it had been possible, but she had to make the appeal.
“Are the Others there already?” she asked, obviously confident that his keen senses would reveal the truth to him.
Hadrian nodded. “All of them. It’s time.”
“And the other Pyr?”
“Some of them. He narrowed his eyes and knew he shimmered blue a bit as he assessed the situation. “Drake, Theo, Arach, Rhys, Niall. Hey, Sloane is here, too.” He smiled at her. “The Apothecary of the Pyr,” he explained.
“I hate groveling,” she muttered and Hadrian chuckled.
“Then don’t. Just apologize.” Hadrian put his arm around her and leaned closer. “Everyone makes mistakes. And a lot of those here have been cursed on enchanted against their will. What’s going to count is your sincerity.”
“I am sincere.”
“I know. And they will, too.”
She exhaled, obviously uncertain. “If you say so.”
“Trust me.”
That prompted her smile. “I do.”
Hadrian gripped the handle and opened the door. A waft of scent and smoke assaulted them both. He smelled roasted meat and barbeque sauce, fat in a deep fryer, the press of human bodies, cigarette smoke and beer.
A woman dressed in black turned to face them and blocked their passage. Her eyes were cold. She looked between them but didn’t move. “We’re closed.”
“I’m Hadrian MacEwan and this is Rania Hingston. We requested an audience at the meeting of the Others.” Hadrian stepped into the bar and let the door close behind them.
The woman’s eyes narrowed.
Rania held up her wrist to display Maeve’s red cord. “It’s time to break free.”