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“Stop it, idiot! You are going to stomp on me!”

Ignoring Sicilia, I massaged my wrists and tapped into my ever-strengthening senses. No one stood outside the door, which I took as a good sign. Until I realized I couldn’t sense anyone nearby. Reaching out further and further, I still didn’t encounter a thought, a feeling, or anything. Where had our kidnappers put us? Where in a mansion filled with fae had he or she found a place so deserted?

Scrambling to my feet, I reached out toward the wall above the glowing crack where I assumed a door was.

“What do you remember of your abduction?” I asked.

Sicilia groaned. “Aren’t you just full of questions? Leave me alone. You are as annoying as the human child.”

Taking a step, I encountered the door. It was made of wood, solid and unmovable by the feel of it. I knocked on it to make sure.

“What are you doing?” Sicilia demanded.

“Trying to find a way out.”

“Then do it more quietly.”

I found the door handle and attempted to open it. It was locked, of course. “You do realize if one of us can recall the face or some identifying feature of those who bound us and brought us here, then we might stop them from doing it again.”

Sicilia scoffed. “As if they would be so foolish. Besides, if I did remember something, that would only give them motive to kill me. Better to play dumb. It has worked before.”

Then her words sank in. “What do you mean it has worked before?”

Sicilia uttered a deep, weary sigh. “I am always kidnapped. It is how Father’s business partners persuade him to renegotiate agreements and contracts. They take me and hide me away. Father rages and rants, the kidnappers make demands, and new agreements are negotiated. Once everything is signed, I get returned no worse for the experience. Though they usually take better care of me than this.”

“That is awful. And your father goes along with this?”

Sicilia snorted. “Of course. How else is he to save face and still renegotiate contract terms?”

“They could open their negotiations without resorting to kidnapping. All they have to do is talk.”

“Ah, but then he would have to admit that the current situation isn’t the best for both parties. Fae don’t do that. Fae businessmen must maintain a façade of ultimate power and control at all times.”

“So, you being kidnapped is a matter of maintaining your father’s pride.” It boggled my mind, making me wonder anew if I could ever understand the way the fae worked.

I tried the handle again. “If only one of us could create fae light.”

“I can.” With a flare of power, the room and Sicilia’s scornful face burst into clear definition in the glow of a ball of pulsing light.

“Thank you,” Mela said innocently from her corner across from the fae.

“She does not owe you anything,” I stated flatly.

Sicilia rolled her eyes. “Lord Greyson made it clear that no one is to touch or bind either you or we will earn a taste of his personal wrath. I am not an idiot. I don’t want the Dullahan’s anger directed at me.” She shivered.

“Lord Greyson isn’t scary,” Mela declared, a stubborn set to her mouth.

Sicilia stuck her tongue out at Mela. The child mimicked the expression right back.

Turning my back on them, I started searching the room for something to pry the door open with.

We appeared to have been trapped in a supply closet. A shelf laden with linens dominated the back wall. Mops, brooms, and a bucket of brushes cluttered the corners.

Considering a sturdy mop, I wondered if it would be solid enough to budge the obstinate door. Maybe if I could break it in a way that created a wedge, I might drive it between the door and the frame and break the lock or force whatever was blocking the door to budge. Either way it was worth a try.

I selected the stoutest handle and then looked around for something to break it on. A sharp solid edge would work. The bucket would be too flimsy.

“What are you doing?” Disdain dripped from Sicilia’s voice. “Are you planning on mopping the door to death?”