Lorcan
Rose’s stress is leaking down the bond, and I frown as she ignores the knife I hold out to her. Has she even slept?
“Stabbing stuff is good for nerves,” I promise, trying again. “I’m a willing victim.”
The blade is glinting in the early morning sunlight. Shiny.
Maybe it will stop the gentle thrumming of the Call in my chest if she can work the nerves out now. If she’s lucky, we might even get a few drops on that pretty white dress she’s wearing. White shows the blood best, after all.
I’m still buzzing over the fact that she said ‘yet’ last night. That one word holds so much potential. In fact, it’s now my favourite word. 'Yet’ means that there’s a chance, in a hundred years or so, that it might happen. I have this daydream that one day she might sit on my cock while she grants audiences to her subjects.
“If you want to be helpful,” Drystan grates. “Find Bricriu or Wraith.”
For a long time, I’ve wondered how other fae do those meaningful looks. The silent ones which tell the other party to shut the fuck up. Sometimes—like now—simply stabbing the person to stop them talking isn’t ideal.
But he needs to stop mentioning them.
Because I can’t blink to them. That means one of two things. Either Jaro, Bree, and Wraith are all so far away that I can’t get to them in one blink, or they’re surrounded by iron—or I am, but I don’t think I am… I wave a hand around myself just to check for glamoured iron bars.
“What are you doing?” Drystan is looking at me strangely.
You’d think he’d have removed the stick up his ass now that he’s finally found a way to trick Rose into wearing his engagement necklace.
“Checking for invisible cages,” I shrug. “None here, though.”
Rose’s fear pulses through the bond. “You think they’re in cages?”
Drystan glares at me, and I can practically hear him reciting the ‘don’t worry Rose unnecessarily’ lecture he delivers daily in his head.
“What? She asked!”
Our mate does the adorable head tilt she’s not even aware she does when she’s speaking to her guides, her mouth bracketed with lines of tension. Then, without missing a beat, she stares at me.
“Lore, can you blink to them?”
Such pretty eyes… I drift in a sea of violet for a second before I realise she asked me a direct question.
“No.”
“What about Bram?”
I shrug. Why would I want to blink to some boring scholar prince? Oh, wait. She wants me to get him. Sighing, I picture the mousy male in my mind.
Blink.
I land in the rafters of a stinking inn in the fishing district, then pause. What is a descendant of Danu doing here? Drinking? I doubt it. It’s early enough that even the inn-keep hasn’t bothered coming down for the day.
I peer down, scanning the empty tables until I find a familiar trio. Bram, with a hooded cloak covering the fact he’s mostly naked—likely due to shifting—is staring at a high fae with grey eyes I know is the Fomorian princess, which means the short-haired fae cleaning a crossbow on the table while he scans the room for threats can only be Caed.
Oooh, this is juicy. I blink closer until I’m directly above them.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet us,” Prae says. “I know you have no reason to believe a word we say but—”
“Members of Rose’s party are disappearing,” Bram cuts her off. “My brother, Dare, and his mate seem to have been all but erased from the minds of everyone in this court. I don’t have time for idle pleasantries. If you know something that’s going to help me protect my sister, I need to know.”
“Me, too!” I shock them all by blinking down onto the bench beside Bram. “Because that means I get to stab people.”
“Redcap.” Bram sighs, glancing at the morning light streaming through the tiny window. “I trust she’s looking for me?”
