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I rub my thumb down the side of his face, tracing the line of temple, cheek, and jaw. No one looking at this gleaming, golden man would think him a monster. I’ve seen what he’s hiding behind the gilding and, although I haven’t seen his Empyrean spirit’s true face yet, I can’t think of it as monstrous. It was just protecting him. That’s the opposite of monstrous.
“No,” I say finally. “You know who the true monsters are? The ones who don’t care. The ones who will never love, never know love. Who don’t care about who or what they damage in their pursuit of their own ends. Like my Da. You an’ me, we care. Mebbe we care too much. As long as we keep caring, we ain’t monsters.” I stroke his face again while I try to explain what I’m thinking. “You know what I was thinkin’, when you were sending me all those texts?”
“The ones you ignored?”
I pinch his ear. “Ireadall of them; I told you. I was thinking that if I kept slapping your hand away, there might come a day when you never reached out to anyone again. I couldn’t handle that. The night of our party, when Gabe showed up, Charlie and I had already agreed we were gonna call you, invite you to brunch or sommat.”
“You didn’t tell me that.”
“Does it matter now?”
“No.” He gives me a soft look from under his lashes. If he had a fringe, he’d be peeking at me from under it. It’s definitely a look he got from Gabe. “Yes, it does. I like to know I’m wanted. I feel like I’m pushing myself on the three of you.”
“That why you’re trying to buy your way in?”
He nods and swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I won’t say stop, because you tryin’ to buy your way in got us our first house and the more I think about living there, the four of us together, the happier I get. But move past the idea you’re not wanted. You are. And I know what you’re thinkin’. You’re thinking Gabe doesn’t want you. You’re wrong. He does.”
That gets me a trademark Princely sneer. “I could tell by the way he turned me down.”
“I’m not gonna mediate between you two. You need to talk to each other.”
“You’re not going to make my mistake, huh? Trying to take all the blame so I could get you back together with him?”
“I’m way too smart to make your mistakes, mate.”
He lunges like he’s going to bite my lip or chin, but I pinch his ear and drag his head back before he gets his teeth in me. He starts laughing even as he shakes his head against the pain of my grip.
“Waaay too smart for you, mate,” I tell him.
* * *
My first tripthrough the Fae Ways. Fuck, it’s cold. And dark.
I understand the theory behind walking the Fae Ways. The fae step out of the mortal world, into the World Wood, and back into the mortal world where they want to end up. For inexperienced Walkers like Darwin, they need a fixed point or beacon at their destination to guide their way. Otherwise, they can get lost on their own native plane.
As an Earth-witch, that’s always struck me as right odd. I’m never lost when I’m in my Element. I always know exactly where I am and where I’m going. But evidently modern fae are so far removed from the primordial Under Hill, their magic so diluted by contact with mortals, that it takes at least a century of experience before they can navigate Faery safely.
Or so Darwin tells me.
I will say it’s convenient to reach our destination and not be dusty. But it takes Darwin putting on the cottage’s fire as well as him rubbing my arms before I thaw out. I’m not eager for another trip through the First Dark.
Darwin disappears into the open-plan kitchen while I stand in front of the fire, warming my bum and looking around the wooden-beam, A-frame cottage. There’s a huge window stretching from the point of the ceiling down two storeys to the floor. It frames a short, pebbled beach, a wooden dock stretching out into the waters of the placid lake, and two covered boats. Darwin told me the lake is hidden, so we can use magic freely here.
I’ve gotten spoiled at Bevvy, I’ll admit. I don’t think twice about using magic anymore. In Manchester, I was always careful. Mortals and mages live cheek to jowl in England. There are very few enclaves where it’s only mages, which means we make every effort to keep the Unseen World hidden. There’s a lot of mental freedom in living separately the way the staff and students do at Bevvy; I see the appeal.
Once my arse is warm, I drift around the cottage, admiring the view from different angles. The inside of the cottage is all white walls and dark wood. Very clean and modern, and slightly too tidy for me. It needs some of Auntie Jill’s embroidered cushions to make it homey. But it’s beautiful. And it smells amazing, like deep pine woods and chocolate.
Darwin joins me at the window. He hands me a steaming mug and I discover the source of the chocolate smell.
“Did you put mini-marshmallows in my cocoa?” I ask, poking one into the deep brown foam with my pinkie to hasten its sugary dissolution.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “No.”
“Are they magickal mini-marshmallows? Did they get there by themselves?”
“It’s a fairy cottage on a hidden lake in the middle of nowhere. What do you think?”
