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“Then why didn’t you run?”
“Because you fucking lot are under my skin, that’s why. And for some reason—who the hell knows why—I want to see you all alive.”
I grin at him. “You are such a big softie. I almost feel bad that I tried to kill you.”
“Would have, too.”
“I really would have, but I probably would have felt bad about it someday.”
He grins down at me, his handsome face looking less exhausted as the seconds tick by. “Yeah, well, you say that, but I seem to recall being compared to Fearghas and losing.”
“You are definitely not Fearghas. You are completely unique, and I’m so glad to call you my friend.”
“Who else would take you on a suicide mission?”
“It’s more than that,” I reply, softly. “You crossed paths with Delaney, and ever since, you’ve been fighting right alongside us. You had no skin in the game. Hell, you still really don’t—and yet, you stay. Why?”
“Truth be told, I had a little crush on Rainey.”
Laughing, I shake my head because I know that’s not the truth of it. “That’s not all, and you know it.”
He chuckles. “Perhaps not.” With a sigh, he fully turns toward me. “If they’re dead, it means we failed. We failed in the one part that really mattered. You’ve no idea what it’s like to be as old as I am, Bronywyn. To carry the weight of the dead upon my shoulders. I cannot stand to lose any more people I’ve come to care for. And if we march in there and they’re already dead; if we go straight into this trap they have set for us, there’s no telling if we’re all going to walk back out. I like you miserable bastards far too much to lose you now.”
“You know, you may not be Fearghas, but you are tied with him for my favorite fae.” I wink.
We fall into silence, and he turns back toward the creek. The surface shimmers in some places where the sunlight casts through the trees. One day, I tell myself, one day, I will be standing in a place even more beautiful beside Tarnley.
“Do you all have a plan this time?”
“We had a plan last time.”
His retort is instant. “A shitty one.”
I don’t reject his insult because, as it turns out, it was a shitty plan. “You are going to take me, Elijah, Willa, Fearghas, Eira, Paloma, my father, and Walker in.”
“Me, too!”
We both turn as Rachel bounds through the trees, medical bag in hand. She leaps over a fallen log, completely missing the path I took. Finally, she comes to a stop, nearly toppling into the creek before Ridley puts a hand on her shoulder. “Bloody hell, woman. Do you have a death wish?”
“If Tarnley and Rainey are injured, I can help.”
“You are human.”
“So is Paloma.”
“Paloma’s husband is going to die. Seems fitting to let her give him a final ‘piss off.’ ”
Rachel glowers at Ridley, her eyes narrowing. “I am going in, fae. Whether you like it or not.”
“Like hell you are.” He moves closer, and suddenly I feel completely and totally out of place. Third wheel, party of one.
“You don’t get to stake a claim over me, fairy boy.”
Oh shit.
Ridley squares his shoulders. “I am not a fairy. I am a fae.” He lifts his hands, and power surges in the air around us, the delicate charge noticeable by me immediately—but it’s not until his eyes flare gold, and both massive, deep-green wings unfurl that Rachel gasps.
Shit, I’ve seen them, and even I take a step back.
