Nevertheless, Hugh had been tasked with keeping a discreet eye on their ranks, and he’d secretly recruited Thora to help with the job, unbeknownst to even his colleagues.
From what Gwen gathered, his informant had begun insinuating herself into extremist fae groups about a year ago. Her knowledge of those groups was more crucial than ever, since Hugh and Gwen needed to build an airtight case for urgent action. The now-vanished evidence at the breach site and Gwen’s visions—however unmistakably those visions pointed to an alliance of fae insurrectionists and common human traitors as the cause of the breach—wouldn’t be enough for anyone else in SERC to risk potential fae wrath and commit the resources necessary to dismantle the conspirators’ organization before the next horrible incident.
And of course, even if someonedidbelieve Gwen and Hugh, however that official chose to address the urgent problem could spark a worldwide conflagration of common human violence against all Supernaturals and Enhanced humans. But that was a problem for the future.
For now, they needed Thora’s help to gather necessary proof of the fae insurrectionists’ perfidy in the zombie breach, becauseshe was apparently an exemplary spy. Shrewd, discreet, nimble, and utterly trusted.
Basically, the antithesis of Gwen. What Delphi Academy’s eleventh-grade English teacher would have called Gwen’sliterary foil.
Gwen didn’t like to admit it, but she would probably have given in to temptation and disliked the Charles Darnay to her Sydney Carton—if there had been a single iota of arrogance in the other woman’s manner. But while the half-fae wasn’t exactlywarm, her cool professionalism both signaled her utter commitment to her work and extended to her interactions with Hugh.
“I heard nothing about a fae plan to free the zombies.” Thora’s lips were pressed tight in displeasure at Hugh’s account of recent events. “Perhaps I haven’t yet been fully accepted by the leaders of the splinter group. I’m almost certain they consider me a full fae who’s sympathetic to their cause, but…”
“But they’re a suspicious lot,” Hugh finished for her.
Unexpectedly, the spy directed her attention across the living room to where Gwen had curled up in a slightly-too-firm armchair. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my failure to prevent the breach and its tragic consequences for you and your community, Ms. Wexloff.”
Startled, Gwen sat up straighter.
“Please, call me Gwen.” Well, how was she supposed to resent the other woman now? “And please don’t blame yourself. You didn’t free the zombies, and you would have prevented the breach if you could have. You’re risking your life every day to infiltrate the splinter group we suspect is responsible. No one could ask for more.”
That group had allowed zombies to slaughter untoldnumbers of Containment Zone residents already. And if they realized they’d welcomed a spy into their ranks? Torturing that spy for information and disposing of her afterward wouldn’t bother them much.
All gratitude to Thora, because Gwen’s bravery didn’t extend far enough to volunteer for such a precarious high-wire act. Even Hugh couldn’t take the sort of risks his informant did, given his utter inability to lie convincingly.
The other woman’s lips quirked in a faint, wry smile. “That’s generous of you, Gwen—although you might be surprised by SERC’s willingness to, in fact, ask for more. And please, call me Thora.”
Given the identity of Thora’s direct supervisor, that meantHughwas asking her for more. Gwen directed a narrow-eyed glare his way, and he hastily changed the subject.
“While you continue monitoring your contacts, Thora, I’ll propose a one-on-one meeting with Beech tomorrow. I need to offer her my official report on today’s incident.” His neatly trimmed nails scritched through his beard as he considered how to tackle the SERC chair. “Perhaps I can dig up some information on her fellow fae that she hasn’t seen fit to share before now. I was also wondering whether I should talk to Aldis, since he…”
The conversation continued for hours longer, full of names Gwen didn’t recognize and details her exhausted brain couldn’t retain. There was nothing she could add to the discussion, so she eventually untangled herself from her blanket and heaved herself upright. Time for bed.
“Be careful, Thora, and good luck. It was lovely meeting you.” Gwen’s back popped as she stretched. “Hugh, I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need me in the meantime, just wake me up.”
He stood too. “I can escort you to your room.”
“I’m fine.” Gwen waved him away, unwilling to further interrupt such an important meeting. “Good night, all.”
She shuffled off to bed while the other two discussed how to save the world. Luckily, she was tired enough that she had no opportunity to dwell on the contrast before falling asleep.
She did, however, have plenty of time for nightmares.
—
Around midnight, Gwengave up on sleep, turned on the bedside lamp, and grabbed her phone with hands trembling from her latest bad dream.
Stuffing a pillow behind her back, she propped herself against the bed’s tufted black-velvet headboard. Salt still stung her eyes, and she squinted blearily at her cell’s display as she accessed the relevant streaming service.
“Last season onCurdled—” the narrator intoned just as a knock sounded on her door.
A tap of her finger paused the new season’s first episode. “Yes?”
To her credit, she’d managed a very calm, in-control reply. But then she hiccupped. Loudly. Which probably gave away far too much about her current state of mind.
“Gwen.” Hugh’s urgent voice was muffled through the thick, heavy door. “Are you ill? Did you have another vision?”
“Nope!” she called back with faux cheer. “I’m good! Thanks, Hugh!”
