“Are they always doing that?”
“Yep.” Silva started for the door that led to the rest of the building. “If you’re going to be part of guarding the door from now on, you’d better get used to it.”
It’d been morethan a decade since Silva had set foot in Chicago, but his memory was almost as sharp as his blades. Unlike the Seers Guild building in Solston, the Chicago hub was mostly underground. When he opened the door to the stairs leading up and out, Wylder made a noise of surprise behind him.
“Wasn’t expecting that.”
Silva started up the stairs. “Chicago has been the site of some pretty brutal paranormal wars in years past. The seers set up this station as more of a bunker about a century ago. It’s expanded alot since then and gotten a lot more peaceful on the surface, but they decided to keep it where it is.”
“Makes sense.”
They reached the top of the stairs and stepped out into an alleyway between two high-rise buildings. The whistling breeze tunneling between the buildings washed over them, bringing the scent of water, garbage, and lingering spices from a nearby restaurant. Indian, if Silva had to guess.
“Where are we exactly?” Wylder asked, looking toward one end of the alley, then the other.
Pointing in the direction Wylder was looking, Silva said, “Well, the lake is that way. That end is Michigan Avenue.”
“Huh.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Years ago. Sigurd brought me. We spent a long weekend. Went to a baseball game, museums, and my first off-Broadway show. It was nice.”
Silva smiled and started toward Michigan Avenue. “I knew he’d be a good parent.”
There was a smile in Wylder’s voice. “The best.” As they neared the street, Wylder asked. “What about your parents? Are they here?”
Silva had expected he’d have to answer that question at some point, but perhaps not so soon. “As far as I know, they’re still alive in the Winter Court of the Fae realm, but I hardly know them. I was given into the queen’s service when I was very young and raised in the training grounds there.”
Wylder was quiet for a few steps, but the statement hung in the air. He knew, especially for humans, that his young life seemed sad. Cruel, even. Maybe it had been. But he’d grown up a warrior, and at the end of the day, he wouldn’t change it. Even if following the orders of his queen had made it so he could never go home again.
“Don’t think about it too hard,” he finally said when Wylder hadn’t found words to respond. “It was difficult at times, but I wouldn’t change it.”
Wylder reached out and briefly squeezed Silva’s fingers. “Are you close with anyone you grew up with?”
Silva smiled. “I am, actually. There were two others who entered training around the same time as me. One of them is here.”
“Good.”
It was good. Osk was a good friend and an even better warrior. Still, Silva was hoping he wouldn’t have to call him in on this one.
They stepped out from the alleyway and joined the flow of traffic on the sidewalk. The night was cool, but not cold, and it certainly wasn’t slowing shopping on the Magnificent Mile. Silva guided them down a couple of blocks to a bus stop.
“Where are we headed?” Wylder asked while they waited.
“Here.” Silva kept his gaze on the street. With the glamour he used in human spaces—blond hair instead of silver, blue eyes, and rounded ears—most humans didn’t give him a second look, but there were always paranormals lurking who could see through the glamour. Most would know what he was if theysaw him and go about their business. It was the few who would realizewhohe was that concerned him.
“A bus stop?”
Smirking, he caught Wylder’s gaze. “The bus it leads to.”
Wylder chuckled. “Ass.”
Before Silva could respond, the pneumatic brakes of a bus sounded down the street. A few moments later, it stopped in front of them and opened its doors. Two people exited before they stepped up into the vehicle.
Silva spotted Alban immediately. If he squinted, he saw the other Fae as the human his glamour presented to the world. The vision Alban showed humans wore layers of dark, dirty-looking clothing and had a permanent scowl. The truth was, Alban was a Forest Fae. His antlers gleamed a golden bronze in the bus’s harsh lighting, and while he still wore layers of dark clothes, they were clean and in good repair.
When Alban noticed Silva, he tensed, and he wasn’t the only one. Behind Silva, Wylder stopped completely.