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Chapter 824
“Travis!” I called from the top of the stairs.
He appeared at the bottom, looking nervous. “Yes, boss?”
I descended slowly. I was wearing a dress the color of fresh blood—silk, backless, with a slit that ran up to my thigh. Strapped to that thigh, hidden by the fabric, was a ceramic knife.
“Get dressed,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”
Travis paled. “Where?”
“The Opera House. I found your invitation.”
He froze. “I found that in the trash! I wasn’t going!”
аc𝘁i𝘷𝖾 𝗰𝗈𝘮𝗆𝘶𝘯іt𝘆 𝘰𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗹nо𝘷e𝗹𝗌.𝖼𝘰𝘮
“Don’t lie. It’s unflattering.” I tilted my head. “Put on a tux. You’re my date.”
“My date?” He looked like he wanted to vomit. “But Alistair…”
“Alistair isn’t feeling well,” I lied smoothly. “He ate the soup while I was on the call with Liam. He said it was delicious, but now he’s out cold upstairs. That sherry really knocked him out.”
Travis looked guilty for a split second, relief washing over him as if his plan had worked. “Oh. Right. Yeah, seafood is tricky. Best let him sleep it off.”
“Hurry up. We leave in twenty minutes.”
Travis scrambled away.
In the car, the silence was suffocating. Travis fidgeted with his cufflinks. The city outside was dark, rolling blackouts turning entire blocks into voids.
“Relax,” I said, patting his knee.
He flinched. “It’s just a party.”
“Yeah,” he squeaked. “Just a party. With the people who broke the world.”
He checked his watch. 8:45 p.m.
“Expecting a call?” I asked.
“No. Just… excited.”
We pulled up to the Opera House. It was a gothic monstrosity, gargoyles leering down from the roof. Generators hummed loudly around the perimeter, powering the only lit building for miles.
Lucian was driving. He caught my eye in the rearview mirror and nodded. Team is in position.
Alistair was already inside, having infiltrated via the roof, moving carefully to avoid straining his injuries.
I stepped out. The air was cold.
Travis offered me his arm. His arm was shaking.
“Showtime,” I whispered.
