Page 27 of The Fae’s Treasure

“But the vernal equinox is when the fruits of fertility are ripest and are ready to be gathered. A succubus is able to penetrate this mortal world without being summoned or relying on the sleeping minds of mortals. Once she’s here, she has a window of time to feed, a short window, of course, because mortal souls are like single-serving meals.” Blanche swallows, with nerves or hunger, I can’t tell. “I mean, for a demon who lives in the Hell realms. It’s different if you’re here. I don’t... I’m trying—”

“Blanche is new to this mingling with what used to be dinner,” Liam smiles.

I am not comforted. I am, however, surprised, but not mad, when Dairmuid lifts Rory and me, puts us in his lap, and wraps his arm and green cloak over both of us, face hard. “My Lady Deanna is not anyone’s dinner. Is that clear, demon?”

“Easy, fella, I’m just explaining what’s what. If your Saz gets out and gets her claws on an immortal soul when she arrives in the mortal realm—she doesn’t have to go back, and she doesn’t have to play by the normal rules of incubi and succubi who remain in the mortal realm. She’ll be here, she won’t have to go back, and she won’t simply have to exist on sexual energy or souls stolen through the dream realm. She’ll be able to harvest souls and gorge herself for as long as she wants without having to return and ‘share her kills.’” Liam’s jovial face turns grave.

I’m very glad that I’m in Dairmuid’s arms. No one can see how bad I’m shaking.

He can feel it—but then again, I can feel how badly he’s trembling, too. As if by an unspoken signal, our hands find each other and clasp as they rest lightly on Rory’s sleeping chest.

“Our town is heavily protected and warded. We can set up further protections around your house,” Alban says with a reassuring nod in my direction.

“I’m not sure that any charm can stop a mother from getting to her child,” Jakob muses, pale face lined with worry.

Dairmuid’s voice is warm and rich, flowing like some sort of plummy, fruity wine right above my ear. “The laws of blood and magic are tricky and usually concur—but sometimes they fight. Deanna has been chosen by fae law as Rory’s true mother. Saz surrendered her child to this mortal woman. Does that help?”

“It may.” Jakob runs a slender finger along his chin, eyes thoughtful.

“There are other immortals in town, aren’t there? There are other fae here, even though we don’t see them. I don’t think you need to keep her out. I think you need to bring her in—and slay her,” Blanche says, leaning forward. Her ruby eyes gleam, but her whole body is pitched in a nervous angle, lip bitten, hands clasped and wringing. Even her tail is twitching.

Liam puts his pale, human-looking hand on top of hers, a comforting gesture.

I expect him to say that’s a ridiculous idea.

I expect Dairmuid to say that’s a horrible idea. He can’t do that to his former lover, mother of his child.

The pastor, maybe. Murder is a sin.

“She’s not wrong,” Liam speaks first. “She got in once. She might be able to get in, always, able to access Rory somehow through the bond of blood. There are other fae here, other types of ancient immortals who prefer to keep hidden, and even those who don’t, like our esteemed Mr. Minegold—he could be at risk. I don’t know how long a vampire’s soul keeps you full, but one with Jakob’s vintage?” Liam kisses his fingertips. “It’s probably a few hundred years’ worth.”

“Thank you, Liam, you flatter me,” Jakob says. “Let’s not be hasty. It is very noble not to want to continue to serve a force of great evil, which is the reason Blanche and Liam fought hard to come to the mortal realm and fight hard to remain here, changing their lives and their, ahem, dietary needs. It’s your belief that your former lover does not share those sentiments?”

Dairmuid’s voice is low and tired. I feel his fingers leave mine, and he strokes Rory’s cheek. “She deceived me about having my child, lied and hid him, would kill him—all to get my soul or half of his. Anyone who would do that doesn’t seek a pure life. If she simply wanted to live among mortals, there are ways to do it, and our guests are proof. It pains me to think of harming her, but I do not want her to harm anyone else.”

“Can’t we just, like, imprison her in her own dimension?” I ask.

“The baby might always be her ticket out.”

“We have some time to research. There may be some way for Saz to lose her claim on the child. We will look into all the options before luring her here just to slay her,” Alban says firmly.

“Thank you. Thank you, you are truly all allies and welcome to my court at any time.”

“Ooh. Fae Spa weekend!” Liam crows and picks up a menu. “Is the rich fae lord paying?”

“I am,” Dairmuid laughs, and plops one of his endless handfuls of gold on the table.

“Gracious.” Pastor Fortnum blinks. “That’s handy.”

“Blanche, can you go give them our order? One whole lasagna, one whole tiramisu, chop chop,” Liam urges, flipping a gold coin with a look of awe on his pale face. “When can I go to this court, Handsome?”

Dairmuid waves his hand. “Whenever you like. But I warn you, time moves differently in my realm. A day there can be months here.”

“There are spells to anchor two souls to one time, just so you know. That’s big work, though, lots of ingredients, a whole coven helping...” Alban studies the menu. “Blanche, can we do the bruschetta, too? I have to go after appetizers, folks, Harper and the kids are waiting at home.”

The conversation fragments, still serious, but with pockets of lightness. I’m quiet, listening, out of my depth.

I don’t leave Dairmuid’s lap, though.