Page 41 of Remnants
Harvey nods and adds, “Or electees.”
Aiden sighs, then looks to Cibrina, who’s already documenting everything with her gift. “I’ll stay with him to get as many details on each of them and the Board members as possible,” she says.
“Good. We’ll meet in a few days to discuss it and start working on a plan.” Aiden swivels back to Harvey. “Now, what attack were you referring to when you let it slip to Cibrina?”
“Oh, right. Dad made a comment about the Pits when I saw him. Must’ve learned about it from someone, so I thought you should know. Since a lot of them are outsiders and might not know about GE, they’re prime picks for him.”
Shit.
That’s the underground fighting ring Kellan took me to where people like us tested their gifts against others.
“Probably from Thorne by Royce,” Jackson comments.
Kellan swears. “Tonight’s a fight night. The fights will be starting soon, and it’ll be crowded.”
Jackson cocks his head. “If they’re going to attack, they’ll do it when they can grab the most people.”
“We’ll leave now, then. Invite them to join the Guild. We could use the fighters anyway,” Aiden reasons.
Kellan pushes off the bar he’d been gripping. “Not everyone’s going to want to pack up and move to the Tower.”
“Either they move, or they stick around to possibly get kidnapped. They can make that choice after we warn them.” Aiden turns to the rest of us. “We’ll all go for this one. Hopefully, we can convince them to leave before the attack, but we’ll be prepared for a fight if they do show up.”
“If they haven’t already,” Dane murmurs, and I hope that’s not the case.
The Pits beneath the Cactus Jacks bar is eight minutes away by car, but only two minutes as the bird flies. Or, in this case, Jackson.
While the others head for the underground garage to drive, Jackson and I take the elevator to the top of the Tower and then the stairs to reach the roof. The wind is strong tonight, or maybe just up here, because it pushes and pulls at me like it wants to send me over the edge.
I stand at the center of the roof, fighting to keep my balance as the breeze whips across it.
Jackson crouches with his back to me. “Climb on.”
Grabbing his shoulders, I hop on. His arms wrap around my legs, cradling the backs of my knees before he stands. As we near the edge, I press more closely against him and grip the front of his hoodie tightly.
We’re on one of the tallest buildings in the city. While I can see a few other buildings at or around this height, most aremanystories below us. Jackson takes a step onto the small wall that perimeters the roof, and my stomach somersaults and spins at the height.
I bury my face into his hood, breathing in the comforting scent of dead leaves and wondering why I didn’t go for the car ride. It fits four. I just didn’t want Jack to have to travel alone.
“Don’t be afraid,” Jackson says, his voice calm and cool. “I would never let you fall.”
He’s right. I have nothing to fear when he’s holding me, especially not from the wind. Iknowit. But knowing that truth doesn’t stop the fear completely. Lessens it, maybe, but it’s still there, crawling beneath my skin.
I force myself to look over his shoulder anyway.
“Let’s fly, little one.” He jumps off, and my heart catapults to my throat, lodging there as we fall. Because that’s exactly what this is.
Falling.
The wind that tried to send me over the edge is now what slows our descent and carries us over buildings. The sun, which was already hidden from the street, is still sinking below the horizon from up here, its reddish-orange fingers never losing their brilliance even while the blanket of darkness encroaches. City lights begin to glow and shine as the day gives way to night, and it’s like seeing the starsin reverse, below me rather than overhead.
The view takes my breath away.
Buildings rise on either side of us as we fall faster, descending rapidly without warning. I tighten my grip on his hoodie, but I don’t look away.
We land in a closed-off alley. There’s a single light above the door to the only building that barely illuminates the area, doing more to feed the shadows than anything. A man with long and shaggy black hair stands at the door, arms crossed. As soon as we land, he has a walkie talkie to his mouth and he mutters something into it.
“Evening, Gregor,” Jackson greets, and the man shivers.
