“We need to talk to them, and this is the only way. Believe me, I don’t want to. I’m scared stiff.” I wasn’t exaggerating. I was terrified, but it was too late to do anything about it. I was committed to summoning the night-haunts.
“I don’t think this is a good plan,” Connor said, reaching out to grab my wrist. “Get a better plan. A plan with less inherent death.”
“Weren’t you mad at me a little while ago for crisping a Selkie skin?”
“It’ll be hard to be mad at you when you’re dead, Daye.” He tightened his grip, holding on for just a beat too long before he let me go. The warmth from his fingers lingered on my skin, reassuring me.
“Look, guys. This is going to happen, whether any of us like it or not. We may as well just try to do it right.” I rose, taking my cup as I moved to check the cupboards near the coffee machine. They were a jumbled mess, but the third one yielded an almost full container of sea salt. “Elliot was right.” I put it down on the counter before turning back to Quentin and Connor. “I’ll have all the supplies I need to make this as safe as possible. Connor, I don’t care what Sylvester says. If it looks like things are getting worse—”
“I take Quentin and run. Got it.”
I risked a smile. Maybe having him around wouldn’t be so bad after all. I’d still worry about Quentin, but Connor provided a layer of backup that I’d been missing since leaving Shadowed Hills. All I had to do was keep myself from looking into his eyes long enough to remember why it wasn’t a good idea for me to be alone with him. “Good. Are there any chocolate donuts left in that box?”
“Saved you two,” he said, and grinned.
“Excellent.”
I was halfway through the second donut when Alex came rushing back into the cafeteria, the color high in his cheeks: a man on a mission. “Toby!” he called. “Jan wants to see you.”
“What’s up?” I put my donut down on the counter, then, regretfully, put my coffee down beside it. “Connor, Quentin, wait here.
Do not
go anywhere alone. I mean it. If one of you needs to pee, you go together and you leave a note. You got me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Connor, mock meekly, before shooting a glare at Alex. Quentin just snorted.
“I’m taking that as agreement, Quentin,” I said. “Alex, lead the way.”
“Gladly.”
Alex led me out of the cafeteria and down the hallway to a door I didn’t recognize. Not that that meant much; I was learning some of the landmarks, but I’d given up on real navigation. He pushed it open, and I stepped through, onto a patch of lawn shaded by spreading elm trees.
I blinked, first at the lawn, then at Alex. “Where’s Jan?”
“Not here.” He grinned, sunlight slanting down through the trees and sparking highlights from his hair. Then there was no more talking, because he had his arms around my waist, pulling me close as he kissed me.
The first time I kissed Alex, it was a pleasant surprise. The second time was less surprising, if no less pleasant. The third time, it was like someone had just set my hormones on overdrive. I relaxed into his arms, plastering myself against him, returning the kiss with interest. His hands came up, snarling themselves in my hair, pulling me closer still as the smell of coffee and clover rose around us, almost overwhelming the green smells of the outdoors.
Coffee and clover. In my hotel room, I’d taken the smell to be an aftereffect of the illusion that made him look human. Here, standing on the lawn, neither of us was wearing a human disguise. Neither of us was casting any sort of spell at all. So why could I smell magic?
Startled, I pushed myself away from him so fast that I bit my lip, breaking the skin and spreading the taste of blood across my tongue. Alex stared at me, poppy-orange eyes wide in something that looked first like confusion—and then, as my shock and outrage spread across my face, like shame.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“Oh?” His arms were still around my waist. I pushed him again. He didn’t let go. I pushed harder, sending him stumbling into the nearest tree as I took a few rapid, stuttering steps backward. The smell of coffee and clover was getting thicker, hanging in the air like cheap perfume. “What are you doing, Alex?”
“Nothing! I—I’m not doing anything. Come on, Toby. Please.” He held out his hands toward me. “You just need to calm down. Come on over here.”
I wanted to. Oh, oak and ash, I wanted to. It was like a small voice in the back of my head was saying,
It’s all right. He’s not a bad guy. You want this as much as he does. You’d have wanted this anyway. Don’t be silly. Just go.
I took a shaky step forward before I caught myself. Biting my lip again, I clung to the hot taste of my own blood like it was a lifeline, and hissed, “You stop that right now, Alex, or I swear you won’t be worrying about mysterious murderers anymore. What. Are. You.
Doing?
”
“What do you mean?” he asked, eyes going wide and innocent. The smell of clover was cloying, overwhelming the coffee and threatening to overwhelm even the taste of blood.
“You know what I mean. Stop it. I don’t want this.”
“Does it matter? If you feel it, does it matter?” He was almost pleading.
I didn’t care. “Yes!” I balled up my hands, digging my nails into my palms and focusing on the pain. “I refuse to be in love with you!”
“Are you sure?” he asked. He took three long steps, put his hands on my shoulders, and kissed me again.
There was a moment of bewilderment before I realized what he was doing, and by then it was too late. The smell of coffee and clover rose, stronger than ever, and I melted into him, my body refusing to let me do anything else. I was trapped. The worst of it was that I couldn’t figure out who’d betrayed me more—him, by being whatever he was, or me, for being stupid enough to get myself caught. His hands slid down to the small of my back, pulling me closer as the taste of coffee threatened to overwhelm the taste of blood.
It was getting harder to think about anything but kissing him. Dimly, I understood that if this didn’t stop now, it wasn’t going to stop at all. We’d wind up going places I didn’t want to go, and I’d say yes every step along the way.
Mustering what control I had left, I pulled back, only half-pretending the need to catch my breath. He loosened his grip, and I twisted my head to the side until I couldn’t see his eyes before biting down hard on my tongue. Blood filled my mouth, washing away the clover and coffee, and suddenly I could think again.
Alex pulled away from me, sensing the danger in my sudden stiffness, and I shoved him back as hard as I could. For the second time, he went stumbling into the tree; this time, he stayed where he was, watching me warily, not advancing.
“You
bastard
!” I drew Dare’s knife from my belt, holding it in front of me. I didn’t intend to use it, but I didn’t want him coming near me again. “What are you?”
“Toby . . .” His eyes flicked from me to the blade and back again. “It isn’t . . .”
“Shut up.” Showing an unexpected degree of self-preservation, he did as he was told. I narrowed my eyes. “Now, I’m asking you again. What are you?”
“Scared,” he said, softly. “I’m scared, Toby. I want someone to hold me and say it’s going to be all right. Don’t you want that, too? Just for a little while?”
For a moment, he almost had me. Then I swallowed, blood coating my tongue, and he lost me again. “Not like this. Never like this. Is this some sort of game? Do you and your sister try this routine on everyone who comes here? What kind of glamour are you using?” I was shaking, and not entirely from anger. Part of me wanted to dive right back into his arms, but I wasn’t giving in.
He sighed, seeming to deflate. “It’s not a glamour, exactly. I’m sorry. We can’t help it. It just . . . comes naturally.”
“And the way you act? Kissing me? That comes naturally, too?” Whatever bloodline they descended from, I never wanted to meet a pureblood.
“It does. Toby, believe me, this isn’t something I do to every woman who comes along. I really like you. And—”
“Don’t talk to me. You make me sick. And tell your sister that if she touches Quentin—if she comes
near
him—we’re leaving. Sylvester will understand when I tell him why. You got that?”
Paling, he nodded.
“Just so we understand each other. What are you?”
“Toby . . .”
“What
are
you?”
“Please.”
I looked at him for a moment before sliding my knife back into my belt. “If that’s the way you want it. I’ll ask Jan. Now go find your sister and stay with her. I don’t want you anywhere near the rest of us.”
He looked at me bleakly. For a moment, I thought he was going to argue—but the moment passed, and he turned, walking inside without another word. I waited until he was gone before sitting down hard on the grass, sticking my head between my knees. The world seemed to be spinning with a nauseating mix of adrenaline and magically induced attraction. What had I been
thinking
?
That was an easy one to answer: I hadn’t been thinking at all. Alex had been doing it for me. If it hadn’t been for the blood, I might not have figured it out. I might have just gone along, thinking it was my own idea. I shuddered and shook the thought away, lifting my head.
Half a dozen cats had appeared on the lawn around me, watching me with unblinking eyes. “What?” I demanded. They didn’t reply. Taking a slow breath, I stood, catching myself against the nearest tree when the world spun around me.
I was so tired I didn’t even want to think, but that didn’t matter; Alex wouldn’t come near me again, and I was pretty sure he’d warn Terrie away from Quentin. They had to be at least that smart, and for the moment, I needed to put them aside and get back to work.
Connor and Quentin looked up when I stepped back into the cafeteria. Quentin paled while Connor bolted to his feet, crossing the floor in five huge, ground-eating steps. “Toby? What happened? You’re bleeding!”
It was too much. People were dead, Sylvester wasn’t letting me get Quentin out of harm’s way, I hadn’t slept in over a day, and we didn’t have a vehicle capable of getting us out under our own power. No matter how I looked at things, we were screwed.
I put my arms around Connor, put my head on his shoulder, and cried. He raised one hand to stroke my hair, somewhat unsteadily. I saw Quentin out of the corner of my eye, pretending not to see us. That’s another thing they teach courtiers young: discretion.
It took a few minutes for me to get control of myself. I straightened, wiping my eyes and sniffling. I’m not pretty when I cry. My nose goes red and the skin around my eyes gets puffy. Mom gave me blood magic, Dad gave me the ability to cry myself into disreputability.
“You okay?” asked Connor. “Do you need to sit down? Or put an ice pack on your lip?” He paused, expression darkening. “It was that Alex guy, wasn’t it? Did he hit you?”
The image of Connor going off to avenge my honor was just ludicrous enough to kill the urge to cry again. I giggled helplessly instead, moving to sit down in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs before my giggles turned into full-fledged laughter. Quentin and Connor watched with wide eyes and almost matching baffled expressions, which just made me laugh harder.
“Does she do this often?” asked Quentin, cautiously.
“Not often, no,” said Connor. “Toby? Does that mean I don’t need to go hit him?”
“He’s six inches taller than you,” I managed, between gales of laughter. “He’d smash you.”
“Yes, but I’d be smashed with honor,” said Connor.
That set me off again, and it was several minutes before I calmed down enough to clear my throat, wipe my eyes again, and say, “Okay, guys, serious now.”
“Serious,” said Quentin, still eyeing me with suspicion, like he expected me to burst into a new flavor of hysterics at any second.
“Alex didn’t hit me.” Connor relaxed, only to tense again when I said, “I hit myself.”
“Toby . . .”
“I needed the blood.” I looked between them. “Look, I don’t know what he and his sister are—he managed to talk me out of making him tell me—but whatever it is, they’ve got some sort of fucked-up glamour going on, and it’s a strong one. I nearly had to chew a hole through my tongue to keep myself from—”
Going off with him and not showing back up until morning.
“—kissing him. Even though I knew I didn’t want to.”
Connor’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. You see a dark- haired lady with orange eyes, you don’t go anywhere with her alone. You’ll find yourself allowing liberties that Raysel probably won’t approve of.”
He reddened, looking away. Quentin frowned, looking thoughtful. “Does it count as being unfaithful to Katie if I wanted to be with Terrie?”
“No. It might if you’d actually done anything, but you can’t help being enchanted.” I hoped he’d believe me, because I honestly wasn’t sure. You can’t really get away with saying “magic doesn’t count” when you’re living in Faerie. Still, it was a good question.