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He tossed the wine back, wishing it were whiskey.
“Why didn’t you die?” she demanded.
She sounded as if she’d have been happier if he had. She wouldn’t be the only one.
“Why are you alive?”
“I almost died,” he spoke over her. “I came as close to it as one can and live to speak of it. But you’ve seen how rapidly I heal.”
“You weren’t in the chapel. We searched for survivors.” Her voice lowered. “There were none.”
“I know it sounds as if I’m an escapee from Bedlam, but trust me.”
She looked down and away. “How can I trust you? I don’t know anything about you.”
Though her body was stiff with tension, her voice was softer. She may not believe in his world, but she seemed ready to listen. He’d use that to his advantage. Her cooperation would make his final task easier.
He took the chair next to hers, hoping to seem less intimidating. Not that she had been all that intimidated by him up to this point. “What do you wish to know?”
She lifted her head, and he read surprise in her eyes. Surprise, but also a great curiosity.
“Ask me anything you like.”
She shifted in her seat, her fingers twisting her skirt as she thought. Finally, she looked up. “You say you’re an Other. That you hold both fey and Mortal traits. Why? How?”
He thought for a moment how to answer. “Think of the Other as mortals plus. We’re men and women. Just like anyone. But there’s something extra. Something that marks us as fey, too. It can be an innate talent like sensing or even controlling local weather patterns. Or a gift for premonition. Mayhap it’s as simple as the woman whose garden produces vegetables and flowers like mad when her neighbors can grow only weeds.”
“But how?” She remained skeptical. It was obvious in her crossed arms, the thin line of her mouth.
He had a vision of his mother trying to explain some ancient text to him in years past. Remembered his own doubt and cynicism. Now he wished for even a tenth of her patience.
He grit his teeth. Bit back the urge to say because I said so and be done with it. “The stories tell us that long ago, Faery and Mortal interbred. The walls hadn’t yet been created that separated them. That latent inheritance can emerge in any generation. Without warning.”
She only looked half-convinced. But prepared to let further explanation slide. “You told Mr. Porter you served in the army. Was that part of the same lie as your being my half-brother?”
All right. This one was tricky, but not impossible. And he sensed her relaxing. “Yes and no.”
She rolled her eyes as if to say, here we go again. “I’m a soldier, but not in the British Army. I belong to the brotherhood of amhas-draoi. Masters trained in weapons and magic. We’re charged by sacred oath to defend and protect both the fey and Mortal worlds. Most of the time from each other.”
He felt her summing him up with a long weighing glance before she asked, “Where are you from?”
Another fairly easy question. So far, so good. “The southern coast near Penzance. My family still live there.”
Her eyes widened as if the idea of him having a family shocked her. Did she think he’d sprung from the ground fully grown and sword in hand?
Apparently beginning to enjoy this game of twenty questions, she smiled. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Damn her to hell. “No.”
Ellery flinched at the fury concentrated in that one word. She’d touched a nerve. His jaw hardened until she thought she could hear his teeth grinding. His eyes darkened to bronze, the pupils like slits.
“No, Miss Reskeen. I have no brothers or sisters.” She watched him struggle to regain his earlier composure. His hand went into his pocket, and he frowned. He fumbled, his hand searching deeper and then moving to the pocket on the other side. At last, his shoulders slumped, the heated glare of his gaze replaced with a dull resignation.
Hopelessness dimmed his eyes. For some reason, this was more frightening than his rage. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man who’d spent the last day doing his best to sabotage her life.
As if he’d quashed whatever memory her question had evoked, he pushed himself out of the chair. “Any other questions?”
Ellery needed to hold tight to her anger. Sympathy sapped at t
