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Eli looked at Alice. “Please, avoid being alone with him until we know.”
She squirmed, but then she nodded after a moment. “So, I guess I’ll stay here . . .”
“Excellent idea, Alice.” Eli smiled at her, maybe to take the sting out of the awkwardness.
Outside, Eli gave me ample room as we walked. I popped a button on the shirt, making sure he could see the lace. I met Eli’s gaze. “How fast do you suppose you can drive to Houston?”
Eli’s smile was the most beautiful thing I’d seen that day. “Navigate for me, bonbon, and I’ll be there in record time.”
“You say all the right things, fiancé of mine.” I waited patiently as he put our things in the trunk. “I was thinking of what we could possibly do after we finish our talk with Madame Hebert . . .”
His laugh was everything I loved. He opened my door and said, “I have a few ideas.”
“Excellent. I look to forward to hearing all about them.” I leaned up and brushed my lips over his. “You have the most delicious voice, Eli.”
As I slid into the car, Eli stared down at me. “I like your increased comfort with our pending marriage, buttercream.”
I trailed one hand over his thigh. “Oh honey, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Chapter Nineteen
The driveto Houston was on one of the roads that was still maintained. Many roads had fallen into disrepair. The commuter lifestyle ended when thedraugrcame out of the ruins, so local roads were nothing more than memories of asphalt in many places in the South. In the desert regions, roads were lost under sand from their monsoon season; in the North, ice and snow left cracked rubble. The exceptions—like the mostly stone and dirt roads from the city into the Outs—were local choices.
Freeways between cities were a different thing, however. They were kept up even better than before-draugrvia inter-city contracts. Hopes of easy tourism fueled the appearance of funds. To keep tourists safe at roadside gas stops, fences stretched on either side for the entire stretch of freeway, and monthly patrols checked the freeway fences for gaps or tears. Much like airports, these high-speed networks were part of the system of connection that proved that we weren’t a failing society.
At the gates of the city, mobile medic teams checked for a pulse. No pulse, no access. It wasn’t as severe as the restrictions to move into the city. With pulses, we were granted a forty-hour pass. It was a clever bit of tech that was affixed to the wheel of the car. Attempt to remove it, and it would pierce the tire. Similar wristlets or anklets were attached to the arms of each tourist over the age of twelve.
Eli parked the car in the queue for the tire monitor. “I despise this.”
I grinned. “Let me boost my temperature and hope that still works.”
A weird part of me enjoyed the idea that I was the thing they wanted to keep out, and they had no idea. So far, I could fool a temperature scan—just not a blood test.
I stepped into the rectangular frame; it was akin to the old body-scanners at airports in the early part of the century. No standing still these days. It simply read whether or not a body was alive. Temperature and pulse.
Eli held out a card that had “Fae Ancestry” in a purple highlighted stripe. His temperature wasn’t going to read as human.
I was about to step out of the remote scanner, when the alarm went off.
“Miss Crowe?”
Panic filled me. I met Eli’s gaze. “Monkey nuts.”
Maybe this wasn’t as okay as I thought. I had no sword. Weapons inside the machines were a no go. I couldflowto the car. I could summon magic. I sent a pulse, seeking the dead.
“I’m a witch,” I said.
“Witches don’t usually set it off.” The guard didn’t draw a weapon, but two others were approaching.
Eli cleared his throat. “Love? I should’ve mentioned, but I hadn’t realized . . .”
“Eli?”
He gave me a smile and then focused on the officers. “Miss Crowe is my intended. Her genetic make-up is shifting as our nuptials grow near.”
The guards exchanged looks, but I was caught off-guard. Eli was a lot of things, but he was—first and foremost—a faery. The fae did not, could not, lie.
I stood flabbergasted as Eli pulled out a second identification card, this one with his actual ancestry, and his actual name. The diplomatic card was basically a “no questions asked” card. The anxious guards were at a loss as he held up the shiny sliver of silver with the royal badge of his people. “I do like my privacy, gentlemen, but I will not have my beloved looked at as if she is anything other than perfection.”
