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Kyran coughs. "Don't saymoist depths."
It's my turn to grin.
"You forgot to call memy lord. The penalty is death."
I give him a hard look. Kyran knows I’d never hurt him, but even he pales slightly in fear at my gaze. It seems there’s no one who’ll look me in the eye these days. Not since Jarrad died.
Not since the Oleander clan put my brother in his grave.
"Don't joke about that, my lord. If your father found out I didn't show you the proper respect, Iwouldbe punished."
"Then I suggest you don't tell him.”
Kyran glances over his shoulder at the other soldiers, and raises a brow. He knows no one else can hear what we say.
“How’d it go with the witch?”
“It worked.” I’m so excited, I nearly yell it out. “She’s on her way to me. I should know soon enough how she’ll arrive.”
Kyran gives me a warm smile and pats my shoulder.
“You deserve this,” he says. His voice is a little sad. I know Kyran, too, has dreamt of a mate to love him. The one he is destined for. But he doesn’t show it.
He prefers to think there is no one for him. He never says why. Just that for someone like him there can be no true love.
The sewer grate whines as it moves. Like an ancient lid being taken off a sarcophagus.
"Finally," Kyran says, breathing a sigh of relief.
His relief is short-lived.
The smell that emerges when the sewer grate slides away is truly revolting. Nothing smells quite like death. The Sluagh emerge, blue-skinned and wearing their bat-like wings as if they were clothes. By their pointed ears, these Sluagh are all Fae.
Theunforgiven dead.The ones who strayed from hell. They used to haunt graveyards and the like, but now they gather in the vast underground of the sewers and subway tunnels. Miles and miles of them below the city, shrouded in the darkness that the Sluagh crave. And it’s moist. They love that moisture.
Their leader looks up to the sky as if it insults him. He hisses at the moon. Then his blue-gray eyes settle on us.
"You have the money?" he asks.
Kyran nods and shows him the briefcase.
"You have the guns?"
"We have the guns," he whispers in the chill wind. The ravens scatter as more of the Sluagh emerge. I have two more of my soldiers on the rear of the alley, making sure no humans come this way. But the Sluagh come out one after another. Five, six, seven. By the time they're all out, there are ten.
Far too many for a simple gun deal.
I’d bring my men in closer, but I don’t want to frighten the Sluagh. My familyneedsthose guns. The Oleanders box us in at every turn. It won’t be long before they choke the life out of us.
"Do I scare you, Fahad?" I ask.
The leader, Fahad, glares at me.
"I have no need to fear you," he says, grinning and showing his missing teeth. "I don’t dream."
"There’s more to fear from me than dreams. I’m warning you, don’t betray us. Where are the guns, Fahad?"
Fahad grins wider. "The guns? They’re here."
