lviii. she's gone

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Rowan sighed as he flipped through another page, the letters starting to blur and swim in his vision. He dropped the papers, then sunk his face into his hands with a groan.

"Having fun?" Lorcan asked from the couch in Aedion's office.

"Fuck you," he murmered into his hands. He finally lifted his head, running it over his face. Pages on pages of info they'd been collecting on the Valg, searching for any mention of Maeve. Anything they could use against her.

"Why don't you just go get your fire breathing bitch queen, and give this a break?" Lorcan muttered.

"Why? Worried?" Rowan asked, amused despite himself.

"No, just tired of seeing your face while you read those. At first, it was entertaining. Now, it's just sad," he shot back.

Rowan flipped him off, but abandoned the work on Aedion's desk. "Fine. I'm heading out."

Lorcan didn't respond, so Rowan left. It was getting late, and he hadn't heard from Aelin since her last text. It had simply said #Girls Night Out, with a video of her and Fenrys singing along to Karaoke.

He listened to the whole clip. Even if their singing was...well, he didn't need to go there. But that text had been over an hour ago, and Rowan was so far past the point of missing her. Which probably wasn't healthy.

He didn't care as he got into his car. As he started the engine, he called her phone. Only to get no answer. Picking up his phone, he rattled off a text reading, call me back when you see this, fireheart.

Rowan set the phone down and began to drive, resisting the urge to check the phone. It didn't go off once, and the longer he spent driving in silence, the more anxious his stomach got.

Why wasn't she answering?

It was possible that she and Fenrys were too drunk. She lost her phone, maybe? But Rowan couldn't stop his dark spiral of thoughts or the way his left leg began to bounce and his chest started to ache.

He somehow managed to pull up to the karaoke bar, before jumping out. Practically running at this point, he stumbled into the bar. Walking down the aisle, he scanned the booths, then the stage where people were singing. No sign of either of the blondes.

Another text sent off to Aelin. One to Fenrys. Both equally frantic. Neither responded.

The bartender was apathetic when asked about them. When Rowan showed him a picture, he nodded and said, "the girl paid her tab and left. I'm pretty sure I saw her leave, but I don't know."

At this point, his heart was beating so hard in his chest that his skin felt clammy and his legs weak. He made it out the door, glancing around the parking lot. Rowan doesn't know what compelled him to peek into the alley beside the bar, but when he did, a glimmer caught his eye.

He stepped towards the silvery piece in the gravel, noting the familiar shape of the locket. Rowan fell to his knees, fist closing around the cool metal that was always warm around her neck.

Without moving, he fished out his phone and dialed a number before choking out, "she's gone."


Rowan would be lying if he said he didn't blame himself. That's all he'd been doing. For hours.

They'd invited him. Both of them, but he'd declined to investigate Maeve. And now the same bitch had both his brother and his fireheart. Two more people he failed. Two more people...he wrenched off that train of thought.

He would find them. They were alive, and he would find them. No matter what.

Aedion had arrived barely ten minutes after receiving the call, Lorcan on his heels. They took in the scene, including the splatter of blood on the ground. Minimal, but troubling nonetheless. Aelin's phone with a shattered screen near one brick wall.

And Rowan on the ground still clutching the locket. He'll never forget the way Aedion's face guttered, or the way Lorcan swallowed and flicked his eyes back and forth between the two of them.

They were back home. Although home without Aelin was...an impossibility.

Aedion was talking to Rhoe on the phone, voice breaking despite his best attempts. Rowan was sure he was only keeping it together for the rest of their sakes.

Lorcan had been sitting beside Rowan the whole time, eyes wary.

Vaughan had joined them with tear filled eyes, only for a second, before launching into work. More phone calls. Demanding security footage if there was any, tracking license plates.

He exchanged a glance with Lorcan. Maeve was good. Far too good to fall into common criminal pitfalls.

His fingers were still clutching Aelin's locket.

Connal was the last to arrive, his face immediately stricken, a mirror of his own. The same guilt, the same helplessness. Their two halves, missing.

He slumped onto the couch on Rowan's other side. "It's not true," he said. "It can't be."

No one answered him. The silence rang hollow.

"They'll be fine, right?"

Lorcan nodded, his face unreadable.

"What if..." Connal trailed off, as Aedion's voice got louder and drew them all back into the moment.

Aedion abruptly hung up, before slamming his phone back onto the desk and collapsing onto his chair. He quickly buried his face in his hands, and Rowan felt a sick feeling climb into his throat.

He couldn't spend a second longer in this room or he'd go insane. He could already feel the hopeless feeling, like walls closing in, like air too thick to gulp down.

"What if they turn them?" Con said. "Like that one soldier said. What if they-" his voice broke, and silence fell again.

What if, what if?

Aedion lifted his head, gaze softening as it fell on Connal. Then Rowan and Lorcan beside him. He shook his head and said, "I don't know. We'll have to find them, before it gets to that. And we will."

Vaughan re-entered, expression solemn. "They're working on it, but so far it's not looking good."

"They had to leave some trail," Rowan said. His voice was hoarse as if he hadn't spoken in days, though in reality it had only been two hours. "Anything."

"Like I said, we're working on it. If there's anything Maeve left behind, we'll find it," Vaughan said.

"I should have been with them," Connal said numbly.

Rowan thought of dark hair, soaked in so much blood that he couldn't tell where brown started and crimson ended. He still remembered the tang of blood in the air and the instant revulsion when he entered the house. He still remembers falling to his knees before her body.

It used to chase after him day and night, bleed into every waking moment. It still haunted him, but...less. Like he'd finally been able to breathe again when Aelin was around. She was the air in his lungs, the blood that kept his heart beating.

Now his nightmares, the one where it was Aelin instead of Lyria, came back full force.

He should have been with her.

"Rowan?" a hand on his shoulder drew his attention back to the scene. Several sets of eyes were watching him cautiously.

"You should get some rest. We'll update you in the morning," Vaughan began.

"-No, I'm helping," Rowan said.

"Same," added Connal. "I can't sit around and do nothing."

Vaughan sighed and exchanged a glance with Aedion, but nodded. "Alright. Con and Lorcan with me, Rowan with Aedion. Let's see what we can find."

Rowan moved towards Aedion's desk, but his mind was still split between the present and past.

I'll find you, fireheart, he thought. I'll search till whatever end. 

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