Holding her breath, Brynleigh quickly set to work. Thegoddess of the moon must have been smiling down on her because seconds later, the locks tumbled.
She rose to her feet, opening the door.
Zanri’s woodsy scent slammed into her like a ton of bricks. It was strong from the hours he’d spent in here, but behind it were traces of something cold and off.
This space, more than any other in the safe house, made Brynleigh feel sick. Or maybe it was just the memories of Zanri’s broken body in Moonwater Prison that made holding back her tears even harder.
Either way, Brynleigh couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness burrowing its way into her. It was in the air.
In the house.
In her soul.
Goosebumps pebbled on her arms, and she shuddered.
Wrong.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. The rest of the safe house had felt strange, but this…
This room felt like death warmed over.
Urgency pulsed through her veins, even as her entire body protested her presence here.
She had to move quickly.
Hoping Zanri hadn’t lied, Brynleigh dropped her tools in her bag and entered the office. Ignoring her shadows’ warnings, she slid the door shut, leaving it open just a crack so she could hear if anyone came.
It was time to find a cipher.
CHAPTER 27
Motherly Affection
Ryker’s head was pounding mercilessly. This was no longer just a headache. That had come and gone an hour ago. Now, his brain was making a concerted effort to escape the confines of his skull through any means necessary.
Tertia had started yelling as soon as Ryker opened the door to greet her, and she hadn’t stopped since. Her list of disappointments was longer than ever. Surprisingly—or perhaps not—she was upset about both his life choices and the fact that the rebels hadn’t been stopped yet.
Apparently, Ryker was failing Tertia, the Representatives, and the Waterborn name all at once.
The only good thing was that a few minutes ago, Tertia had moved from the main apartment into the mud room.
Maybe she was planning on leaving soon.
Ryker leaned against the wall, rubbing his temples. He was fucking exhausted.
“Are you listening to me, son?” Tertia asked sharply.
“Yes, Mother,” he said wearily. “You’re not happy. I understand.”
She hissed in a breath. The walls of the small mud room seemed to close in on them.
“No, I don’t think you do. It was one thing for you to live in an apartment like a commoner with thisdog.” She glared disapprovingly at Marlowe, who sat obediently at Ryker’s feet. “But it was another entirely for you to Choose a vampire who turned out to be a murderer. That was one step too far, even for you.”
Ryker sighed but didn’t respond. Arguing would only elongate Tertia’s stay.
Reaching into her pocket, his mother withdrew a silk ivory scarf. She wrapped it around her neck, daintily tucking the edges into her black coat before she raised piercing brown eyes to Ryker.
“Of all the things I thought would happen after your Choosing, this wasn’t one of them.” Tertia’s voice was as silky as her scarf, but there was nothing maternal about the way she spoke. “You will be a Representative one day, child.”