Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(41)

“How did you get this money?”

“I arrived with some Vysanthian gold that a pawnshop was happy to accept.”

“Ah,” I murmured, “that’s handy.” I didn’t have the interest to linger too long on that, with the prospect of food awaiting me. I hurried around the corner and entered the café, where I was delighted to find a counter filled with an assortment of warm, buttery pastries. I ordered two large croissants and hot chocolate in the largest size they sold—topped with a dollop of whipped cream.

I made my way back outside after paying for the order, and almost moaned as the warm, sweet liquid trickled down my throat. I dug into the pastries ravenously, and had eaten half of one already by the time I returned to Navan and Ianthan around the corner.

Navan’s bag seemed to be becoming more and more like Mary Poppins’s — the guys had been shirtless before, but, to remain inconspicuous, they had folded away their wings and donned black sweaters, which Navan must’ve been carrying in his bag.

As I approached them, Navan was also holding a small round gadget to his ear that I hadn’t seen before—it was some sort of comm device. He must’ve left one back in Texas too, because he was talking to his brother, a note of impatience in his tone. “Yes, I know it’s dangerous, Bashrik,” Navan was saying in a low tone. “But what other choice do we have? Whether or not The Fed was responsible for the theft, we need their help. They will have advanced ships of their own—probably even more advanced than ours. They’ll have equipment I can use to get the control board working, and hell, if we really managed to get on their good side, they might even give us a new ship. For now, just hang tight.”

Navan paused as Bashrik said something, and his eyes rested on me as I continued devouring my meal. “I appreciate your concern. And you’re absolutely right, of course I’d say the same if it were you. And yes, you need to tell Riley’s friends—they’re going to have to think of an excuse to cover her for at least another day, I suspect. We’ll talk soon. Take care of yourself.”

Navan removed the gadget from his ear, pressed a button, and stowed it in his bag. He ran his hands through his hair and looked at me as I extended my hand out to him to return the change. He took it, then looked over my shoulder, toward the glass bus shelter behind me. “Shall we sit?” he suggested, slipping the change into his bag.

The three of us sat down together on the bench, our backs facing the road. It didn’t look like there were surveillance cameras around here, and it was still dark, so I wasn’t concerned about anyone noticing their peculiar skin shade. We would likely be on the move before the sun rose.

“How’s Bashrik doing?” I asked. Whatever Bashrik had said to his brother, it had sounded like he was very concerned about Navan’s safety—which I found both nerve-racking and endearing. “He seemed worried.”

“His wound is healing—it hopefully won’t be too long before he can fly again. And yeah, he was worried, but that’s what he does. Under that outgoing exterior of his is a huge bundle of anxiety.”

“Well, it’s good he’s healing.” Lauren would be relieved about that. Poor thing, she’d gone from barely shooting a bullet in her life to almost accidentally killing someone. “I assume my friends were sleeping?”

Navan nodded. “They returned home for the night.” He withdrew a couple of vials from an outer zipped pocket of his bag, handing one of them to Ianthan, before unscrewing his own and downing it. He grimaced slightly as he swallowed.

“What’s that?”

“Silver root.”

“Ah.” The pit of my stomach dropped a little at the reminder, but there were too many other things for me to think about to dwell on it. “So, the plan,” I said, sipping from my cocoa.

“Yes, the plan,” Ianthan repeated. “How do you suggest we go about attracting their attention in the first place?”

Navan rubbed his hands together, staring at the brickwork of the café building in front of us. “We’ll have to pull off some kind of stunt that screams supernatural in order to draw The Fed out to investigate. Also, it’ll need to be somewhere densely populated. I suggest a major city, possibly New York.”

I frowned. “That’s my city.”

“Feel like a homecoming?”

“I just . . . Nobody will get hurt, right?”

“If all goes according to plan.”

“How do you know Earth’s geography so well, by the way? You seem to be well acquainted with the customs in general.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. You knew what a pawnshop was.”

“Pawning. The universal language.” Navan shrugged. “I’ve spent a decent amount of time on Earth since I discovered it, under the guise of exploring other planets for an immortality elixir. And I managed to find a good library.”

I smiled, picturing Navan hunched over a little library table with a pile of books. “Where did you first land, when you arrived?”

“It was here, in Alaska. I was drawn to it for its temperature—given that I hadn’t invented any formulas yet. But, to get back to the plan . . . I didn’t actually ask you yet: are you really okay with helping us? As I said, we need a human.”

I nodded. I had to help—there were literally only three humans on the planet who could even theoretically help, and the other two were back in Texas. I had begun taking risks since the moment I decided not to take the Elysium Navan had offered me, and if these were the consequences, I was going to have to accept them.