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Now that he was at my side, I was able to start to drift back to sleep in more comfort. His very presence made me feel stronger, braver, more capable. That, I’d learned, was the true nature of love. When you are loved, you are better for it, and when you love, you are braver to protect it. My eyes fell closed with my love at my side.
By the timethe flight landed in Scotland, I was better suited for coherent thoughts that weren’t about my marriage or my family. Perhaps, I had been a bit more shaken by my captivity than I’d realized.
No matter. I was alert now, and I was ready to find the mystery weapon.
Orkney—at least the island we’d landed on—was a stark contrast from New Orleans. It was neither akin to the Outs where I’d spent my childhood norElphame. Everything was green like those places, but somehow there were no trees at all as far as I could see.
A lack of trees seemed peculiar.
“The story goes that the Vikings and early inhabitants all chopped the trees down,” Iggy said mildly.
“Men.” Beatrice made a noise of irritation. “Human or other, your sort ruin things.”
I wanted to “not all men” her, but that expression was pointless. Obviously, she knew that not every man was monstrous, but she’d been murdered by men. Men sought to steal her power. A man—the dead one who impregnated my mother—had manipulated her family. Now we were facing threats from the very man responsible for her death.
Softly, I reminded her, “There are good men.”
We both glanced at Eli and then at Iggy.
“A few. A rare few. Most of them . . .” Beatrice made that same scoffing noise, and I didn’t know how to address this topic. I had male friendsanda husband, but Beatrice had watched centuries of men fail her, try to control her, and back when she was alive, steal her life. It was a lot to overcome.
Impulsively, I hugged her.
Beatrice smiled. “I will not slaughter those you cherish even if they are male.”
That, at least, was comforting to hear. “I am grateful that you can overlook that detail of them.”
My grandmother gave me a curious look. Then she added, “The king may not be on that list.”
I sighed. I was upset with the fae king, but it was not the crisis in front of me. “Perhaps we can deal with the alligator nearest the boat first?”
“I like alligators better than men.” Beatrice stepped forward, as if to give me space, but I knew her stance well. She was placing her body between me and any threat that might step forward.
I noticed that Iggy stood at an angle behind me, and Eli was on the side of me. No words, but they were at my side—literally—and that made me feel valued.
I took a moment to study my surroundings. The air tasted of sea, and even though it was the edge of summer, the wind seemed to invite itself under every stitch of clothing I wore. There were a few people at the edge of the tarmac, either employees or other travelers. A few were surreptitiously looking our way.
“Iggy?”
“Watching.” He stared at them. If anyone started taking photos or videos, he’d melt the circuitry in the cameras or phones. He was rather adept at that hex.
Beatrice, being dead, seemed to be unaware of the chill. She was, however, quite aware of the strange looks she was getting. At first, I thought it was because of what she was, but that wasn’t obvious to a casual observer. Cold skin? That could be explained away easily in this weather. Reptilian eyes? Hidden behind dark sunglasses.
“They think you must be famous,” I said as it dawned on me.
Her attire was rather unusual. She still had on the motorcycle pants. Crash armor outlined her shape, which looked like a woman quite a few centuries younger than she had existed in this world. Her top, however, was a soft cashmere sweater that looked like a cloud. And her eyes were hidden behind designer glasses.
Beatrice quirked her lips. “Daughter of Mine, youarefamous.”
Iggy—decked out in designer trousers, suit jacket, and silk t-shirt—looked equally elegant. And of course, Eli could not “dress down” even when he tried. He was a faery prince, but it wasn’t just that. Even the least of the fae drew gazes the way flowers drew bees.
And, inevitably, my vibrant blue hair stood out no matter what I wore. I’d pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans, heavy black boots, and one of my spell-wrought jackets. I wasn’t as good as Iggy with that skill, but I’d been steadily learning how to weave magic into fiber. It meant that my clothes—probably all of ours, actually, since Iggy had taught me, and I’d spelled all of Eli’s closet—were resistant to fire and projectiles. No magic was perfect, but it was a layer of protection to buy precious time to react to attacks.
Being recognized was inevitable, and I had no doubt that Chester had spies aplenty.
“Stonecroft?” a man said, stepping up and motioning toward a car. “I’ll be your driver.”
Beatrice glanced at Iggy whose mouth moved silently for several moments as we loaded a few essentials—mostly weapons—into the trunk. When we were done, I slammed it shut.
