The Fae Princes (Vicious Lost Boys #4)

BASH

It seems too easy, the vault opening for us after all this time.

But who I am to question luck?

I push the doors in. The hinges groan loudly. The doors are three times as tall as we are, and it takes both Kas and me to shove them in.

The vault spreads out into darkness with just two lanterns glowing at the entrance, metal hooks hung over metal stands.

We close the doors behind us and then each grab a lantern.

“You go left, I go right?” Kas proposes.

“Sounds good to me.”

I try to shut out any expectations and just listen to the magic of the room. The shelves are arranged in rows creating aisles between each one. I start down the first, passing magical figurines and enchanted leaves and sealed jars that say DO NOT OPEN.

I can sense the magic within, some of it bright and poppy, other magic dark and sinister.

If pressed to describe the way my wings or magic would feel, I’m not sure I could put it into the right words. It’s just one of those I-know-it-when-I-feel-it scenarios.

The next aisle produces several leather-bound books, then a pointed hat, a single cobbler’s shoe. I weave around the aisles, holding up the lantern so the light spreads far.

“Anything yet?” I call out, voice echoing into the dark.

“Nothing,” Kas answers back.

The worry sets in once we’re halfway through the vault. I was hoping I could just home in on my wings and the vessel they’re held in, like an elephant homing in on water several miles away.

But there’s nothing. Just the buzzing background noise of magic that is not my own.

Kas and I near the back of the vault, with just a few aisles left to search, when we meet up in the main aisle.

“This is making me anxious,” I admit.

The lantern light flickers over my brother’s face. He doesn’t have to say anything for me to know he feels it too.

“Just a few more aisles,” he says and disappears down the next one.

I grumble and keep searching.

I go down one aisle, then the next, passing treasure after magical treasure, but nothing rings out as belonging to me.

When Kas and I meet up again at the back wall, there’s no more hope left to suspend us.

Our wings are not here.

“Tink probably knew we’d look,” Kas says. “I did find one empty spot on the shelves, but I don’t think our wings were there.”

“Show me.”

He takes me back three shelves. The third shelf from the floor is empty from end to end. There are hooks embedded into the wood, like several duplicate items used to hang there.

“What used to be here?” I ask.

Kas shrugs. “I’m drawing a blank, but the lingering magic doesn’t feel like ours.”

I’d have to agree. It has a harder edge to it.

“I suppose it couldn’t have been this easy, huh?” I laugh, but it’s edged in worry.

There’s a bad feeling crawling up my throat.

“We should get back,” Kas says and lets his lantern hang limply at his side as he makes his way for the entrance.