Unstoppable (Their Shifter Academy #6) - May Dawson Page 0,53

would be ideal to slip in during the ball but—we could probably work our way in as part of the setup crew. Then I open the rip, you guys go back to your world, I save my friends. We save the world and we all get what we want.”

My heart lurched. Leaving Silas behind was not at all what I wanted. But Sebastian, Frederick, Isabelle—they were his family. We couldn’t abandon them. If it came down to it, I’d rather live without Silas than have him lose them.

“Nope,” Rafe looked down, shaking his head.

Silas stared at him, his jaw hardening. “Nope? You’re going to have to work with me, Rafe. Like you said, this is my territory—”

“Shut up.” Rafe looked up, locking eyes with Silas. “You are so smart, Silas, but somehow there are still holes in your brain bigger than that tea cup.”

My lips parted, but I had no idea what to say. This conversation was going even more sideways than I had imagined it might. I wouldn’t be surprised if Silas left us to help them, but I also knew how dedicated he was to what he saw as his first mission. Me.

Silas scoffed, but before he could say anything more, Rafe said, “Let’s go get your friends from Elegiah.”

I exhaled shakily in relief.

Jensen rubbed his hand across his face. “They are both so dramatic,” he whispered to me. “It’s exhausting.”

Silas stared back at Rafe. For the first time in his life, the incredible Silas Zip didn’t seem to know quite what to say.

“If you ever lie to me again, Silas,” Rafe said. “I will make sure you fucking regret it. That was completely unnecessary.”

“Don’t ruin it,” Jensen urged quietly.

“Now,” Rafe said. “Let’s make a plan.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jensen

* * *

In order to break into Elegiah, Silas took us to see a Rebel forger. We walked the sunny cobblestone streets to a house to a busy department store where a few men stood around on stools being measured for suits and couples were looking at dishes. Everything had that strange, vaguely vintage vibe of the Greyworld. I’d bet people would love to vacation here if they could safely travel between worlds.

“Are you taking us shopping?” I asked, stopping to look at a display of elaborate ash trays, some of them shaped like open books or oak trees or statues of couples having sex. Well, that had escalated quickly.

People here really seemed to love ashtrays. Maybe they didn’t have lung cancer in the Greyworld.

“Don’t encourage him to blow through more of his money,” Rafe said quickly.

“That private car would have been worth it if you weren’t a killjoy,” Silas said, leading us through the book department in the back of the store. He glanced over his shoulder as we entered an area ‘that felt hushed as a library, with two stories of books reaching up toward a domed ceiling.

Then he turned a corner around a shelf…and disappeared.

Rafe stopped and rubbed his hand over his face. I wasn’t sure any of us had great odds of surviving the Greyworld, but Silas lowered his with every minute.

Then suddenly, Silas was back, one hand tucked into his pocket and his eyebrows raised. “Well? Are you all coming?”

Rafe sighed under his breath, but said nothing.

We followed Silas through a hidden passage. Then suddenly, we were in a second marketplace, but this one was darker and grungier.

I ducked under a stringy-looking banner. A couple of young people dressed in scanty outfits called out to Rafe and Silas, blowing the guys kisses. Carts were set up along the filthy street selling colorful jewelry tangled together, wands, old books, ID cards. I tried to get a look at everything but the world seemed to move too quickly as we plunged after Silas.

Silas had his hands in his pockets, looking perfectly at home in this suddenly sordid scene. Jensen and I exchanged a glance, but we followed him anyway.

“Doesn’t anyone notice all the seedy characters traveling through the fine china section?” I asked.

Silas twisted to look at me over his shoulder. “Seedy? That’s a bit judgmental.”

I was almost embarrassed, and then he added, “Besides, there are hundreds of entrances. That way they can shut doors as soon as the police find them.”

He led us down an alley, and Jensen muttered beside me, “We’re sure Silas would never mug us, right?”

Silas said, “What do you own of any supposed value anyway, Jensen, besides overpriced clothes and autographed guitar picks? I think you’re safe.”

“Hurtful,” Jensen said. “What do you value, anyway?