Unstoppable (Their Shifter Academy #6) - May Dawson Page 0,55
a wheeled stool which glided across the room to the desk, as if it knew where he wanted to go.
“We need four tickets to Elegiah, so to speak,” Silas said.
Alfred froze. “You know you’ve always got a ticket to Elegiah waiting for you, Silas. All you need to do is turn yourself in, and if the police manage not to kill you in their excitement, you’ll be there by tomorrow morning.”
“I don’t want to go that way,” Silas said. “I’d like to play a guard.”
“I see,” Alfred said. “And your friends?”
Silas rested his hand on the top of my head. “Prisoner, prisoner, guard.” He pointed to Rafe when he said guard.
“It’s like the world’s worst game of duck, duck, goose,” Jensen muttered.
“Duck, duck, goose?” Alfred said curiously.
“It’s their weird version of prisoner, prisoner, guard,” Silas explained to him. “I don’t know what geese have to do with anything, but their world is a mystery. Can you do it?”
Alfred sighed. “And let me guess. You want me to halt all my jobs—and the Medusa—” he gestured at an enormous painting of a beautiful woman with snakes for hair, “and take care of you before I do anything else?”
“I do,” Silas admitted.
Alfred sighed. “Only for the kid who stole not just prophecy but an entire prophet from the Shen monostary, who killed the Ringmaster when no one else could and who even made Keen laugh once.”
“Please don’t embarrass me,” Silas said mildly, but I didn’t think he really minded one bit. From the way Alfred looked at him, he obviously worshipped Silas.
Rafe snorted, and I could’ve sworn he mumbled, “Incredible,” under his breath.
“I need pictures of all of you,” Alfred said. “You’ll need to dress up. Ugh, you’ll need uniforms. We have to do this all old school.”
“I need prosthetics too,” Silas said. He touched his chin, turning his face from side to side as he ducked to look into a mirror on Alfred’s desk. “As much as I hate to lose this handsome face. I can’t go in like this.”
We went down the street to a tailor’s he knew, who was clearly perplexed by what he was being asked to do, but did it anyway. He pushed his other projects out of the way, clearing the table, and set out the uniforms; then with a flutter of his fingers, scissors and needles and thread began to dance, forming the pieces of our future costumes. I would have watched wide-eyed if Silas didn’t drag me away so he could get his magic-free makeover.
An hour later, Silas was adjusting his lapels absently as he stood in front of the mirror, dressed in a crisp navy blue suit. “Well, I enjoyed a few weeks out of uniform, anyway.”
“It’s only for a day,” Rafe said, as if he were trying to convince himself. “We get in there, Maddie and Jensen find your friends, and we sneak back out.”
“Twenty-four hours, tops,” Silas said, and we all groaned.
“Good thing you’re going as a guard,” Alfred said to Silas. “Although the grounds are warded from magic anyway, just in case a prisoner manages to overcome the marks. There are stories.”
“Just stories,” Silas said.
Alfred gave him a look. “We know there are some overpowered wizards in this world.”
“More stories,” Silas chided.
“Says the man who might have the strongest magic since Arthur himself, who died to close the rips,” Alfred shot back.
“He wasn’t as strong as Merlin,” Silas said.
“Different gifts for different heroes,” Alfred said.
“I’m no hero,” Silas said, but I was pretty sure everyone else in the room heard it as a lie as much as I did.
“Marks? What are these marks?” Jensen asked, his voice hard and protective. He glanced at me. The two of us were the ones going in as prisoners; it would give Silas and Rafe more room to maneuver with the rescue, while Jensen and I got in and found our prisoners. Since men and women could be separated, I needed to go in to find Isabelle and Keen.
“The marks block your magic,” Alfred gestured at the tattoo gun on the table. “We’ll make them artificial, of course.”
“They’re considered a sign of shame in our society.” Silas shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.”
“Of course it wouldn’t bother you,” Alfred said.
“Another mission, another tattoo,” I said, thinking of the invisible ink runes that I’d carried in to the Coven of the Day. “Just once, I’d like to get a tramp stamp on spring break like a normal girl.”