Clover walked them through the empty courtyard and to a back entrance to the inn. She knocked three times, and the door pulled inward.
A pale woman with a shaved head and kind eyes answered. “Clover, you made it.” Her gaze shifted to Kerrigan. “And you brought a friend. Come in.”
“Kerrigan, this is Thea.”
Kerrigan stepped inside the darkened interior. “Pleased to meet you.”
“No, dear girl, the pleasure is all mine. We could not be happier to have you with us. What you did in that tournament …” She raised her hands to the ceiling. “A blessing for our cause.”
“Oh,” Kerrigan said awkwardly. “Well, good?”
“It is good. Praise Lament.” Thea touched the Lament symbol at her breast—an X encased in a box.
The Lament was a human religion that had mostly fizzled out in the last decade since the Red Masks persecuted those who believed and burned their churches. A few churches still existed on the fringes of the city, but she hadn’t expected them here in this meeting.
“Thea is the leader of the RFA—Rights For All. She’s been organizing for years to try to get the Society to listen,” Clover explained.
“To no avail,” Thea explained. “We got somewhere after Cyrene, but then the mass murders by those horrid Red Masks derailed it all. Everyone was too scared to step forward. That is, until you showed up.”
“Oh,” Kerrigan whispered again. “I’m glad that I can help.”
“Me too,” Thea said, putting a hand on her back. “Let me introduce you to the rest of my team.”
Kerrigan followed Thea into a private dining room, where a half-dozen people sat around a wooden table. The candlelight was low, and a meal was prepared before them. Not simple food either. A stew that smelled thick with spices, roasted chicken, homemade rolls, summer fruit, and even some kind of decadent chocolate cake. It showed her more and more that this was not some push by a few people with nothing. There were humans and half-Fae with means, and they wanted this as much or more than the rest living in poverty.
Thea introduced her to each of the people present—three women and men. Each of them beamed, getting out of their chair, shaking her hand, offering their thanks. Their effusive behavior made her uncomfortable. She’d never been in a room where this many people thought that she could help them save the world. She was just one girl.
“All right, don’t crowd her,” Clover said, putting herself between them. “I’m glad that Kerrigan is here, but we don’t want to scare her off either.”
Kerrigan grinned. Only Clover could get straight to the meat of things. “Thanks.”
Thea nodded. “We’re pleased that you’re here. The streets are full of your name. I must admit that I’m quite excited to meet you in person. We all are.”
“I’m just… me.”
“My dear girl, you are so much more,” Thea insisted. “You defied the odds. You beat them at their own game. You are the only voice for half-Fae in the entire Society. You are more important than you know.”
“Okay, but …” Kerrigan bit her lip. “Look, as much as I want to help, I can’t come out publicly for this.”
Thea frowned. “What do you mean?” She looked to Clover, who shrugged.
“I have a year of training before I’m officially inducted as a full member. They can still kick me out for any offense in the next year. It might not be public that this is the case, but it’s my reality. If you want me to be able to make any change, then I can’t be found here.”
Thea sighed. “Of course this is their stipulation.” She ran a hand down her face and looked to her coconspirators. “Well, this changes nothing about our mission. It would be a lot easier to recruit if we were able to use your name, but we would not like to jeopardize you.”
“And why can’t you use her name?” a voice said, a figure stepping into the dining room.
Kerrigan whipped around and found herself face-to-face with Dozan Rook. She so rarely saw him out of the Wastes that it was a shock to find him here now in all his glory. His burnished hair was brushed back out of his amber eyes. He wore a crisp three-piece black suit with a black button-up shirt and black tie. Only the red R pin on his label suggested that he was a symbol of the Wastes. Not that it wasn’t obvious, just looking into his beautiful, hardened face. A sensuous smile played on his lips.
“Hello, Red,” he purred.
Kerrigan blinked and stepped backward. She hated this reaction to Dozan. The pull that had always been there. It didn’t matter that she’d been obsessed with him at twelve. Her first love at sixteen. Her first everything. She wished that she didn’t react to him at all. Because he certainly never saw her as more than a pawn.