THIRTY-NINE
FAELAN
“You’re sure you don’t feel anything weird?” I ask, looking her over more closely. I try to ignore my body’s reaction to the scattering of freckles on the soft skin of her bare shoulders, the shape of her legs in those heels. Kieran’s a prick, but he’s right; she’s going to be the death of me.
“I’m fine,” she says. “Bored to tears, but fine. What do you mean, a spell?”
“I think we should leave.” The faster we get out of here, the sooner I can relax. Something’s up with Kieran. After Sage left us, he leaned over and told me I shouldn’t have brought her. When I asked him why, he just growled at me to be better at my job as he walked away.
“Fine with me,” she says. “The sooner we get out of here, the better. Shouldn’t we find Aelia, though?”
“I’ll text her. She can get a ride with one of the girls in her coven.”
We stand and make our way back through the party, heading for the entrance. I watch the crowd, looking for a hint of why things feel so off. Then it hits me. How did I miss it? They’re almost all human, only a few Others mingling in the herd. Too many mortals all in one place for a demi party.
I grab Sage’s arm and pull her back through the people and down a hall, looking in each room and seeing shades, druids, pixies, but no humans. The Otherborn are all separated out for some reason.
As we come to the last door, I spot Aelia and her coven making out with a bunch of shades. “Lia!” I bark.
She removes her face from some guy and sits up quick. “What? I didn’t do it!”
“We’re going. Now.”
She slumps, pouting. “Why?”
I step into the room and yank the shade that was groping her from the couch, tossing him. He hits the opposite wall with a crack and falls to the floor, limp. “Now!”
She stands in a rush, teetering. Everyone else is sitting up, gaping at me.
“You’re such a downer, Faelan,” Aelia mutters, her words slurred. “Gods.” She wobbles a little as she comes closer. I can smell alcohol on her breath.
“What did you drink?” I ask, grabbing her by the arm, looking in her eyes to see if she’s been dosed with anything.
“Vodka. Calm down.”
“What’s going on, Faelan?” Sage asks from the doorway.
“This party is a trick,” I say loud enough for the drunk druids to get the clue. “It’s probably a fucking bloodworking or something.”
Aelia frowns and presses a finger to my mouth. “Shhh . . . your face is too loud.”
Victoria sits up, all focus now. “What kind of bloodworking?”
“Hell if I know,” I say, “but you probably don’t want to be here when that room full of humans out there gets ripped to shreds by the half dozen drunk shades in this room.”
“Hey,” one of the shades says, like he’s offended. “I only drink bagged blood, never take from the tap. I’m clean.”
“Sure you are, skippy.” I pull Aelia from the room, leading her down the hall, Sage close behind. I say over my shoulder, “Don’t stop for anything. We head straight for the doors.”
We work through the crowd quickly. I soon see the entry and it’s clear. No Kieran, no Princess Mara, no servant shade. Whatever they’re up to, I need to get Sage as far away from them as possible.
Someone steps into my path, making me stop.
“Finbar,” I say, shocked. What’s he doing here? And then I see Duncan, Astrid on his arm, just behind my elder brother.
Finbar doesn’t acknowledge me; he looks right past me to Sage. And then he bows deep. “Princess, you look stunning.”
“We were just leaving,” Sage says.
“So soon?” Finbar asks. “I hear there’s to be sport.”
My skin goes cold. “What sort of sport?”
Astrid smiles sweetly and says, “Well, the best kind, of course. How many are up there?” She cranes her neck to see the crowd above us. Then she reaches down and lifts her hem, showing off her thigh. Where her dagger is strapped. “I brought Talon.”
My gut roils, the urgency I felt a moment ago turning into real panic at what Sage will witness if we stay. If this is a bloodworking, it’s going to be done the hard way. The humans are to be hunted, probably released on the property like drugged game. I haven’t heard of a party hunt in over sixty years. The Cast outlawed them because it was becoming too difficult to hide the mass killings.
Leave it to the House of Morrígan to get away with breaking such a concrete rule. I know now why my brother Finbar is here, blood-thirsty wretch that he is. But why invite Sage? Especially if the House of Morrígan truly wants to court her favor. It’s crazy. Unless they’re so blind they can’t even see how their own twisted nature would look to someone like her.
“Well, I’m taking Princess Sage home,” I say, making sure to direct my words to Finbar.
“You must stay,” Finbar says to Sage. “It’s going to be brilliant.”
She stares at him, her gaze hard. “Are you deaf? Your brother’s taking me home. If you’ll excuse us.” She brushes past them, heading for the door.
When we get into the limo, Aelia is laughing, trying—and failing—to drunk high-five Sage. “That was an epic asshole takedown, bitch!”
Victoria climbs into the limo behind Aelia. “Now I know why Mom said not to go to Morrígan parties without protection.” She reaches into her bra and pulls out a small sack: a charm. “This thing shielded me from whatever was in the drinks.” She points at Aelia, who’s now slumped over my lap.
“What the hell was all that?” Sage asks, trying to scoot away from Victoria. “What is going on, Faelan?”
“I’m pretty sure they were about to have a hunt and kill a few dozen people.”
Sage gapes at me, speechless.
Aelia sits up straight in a rush, holding up a finger, declaring, “That’s illegal!” And then she slumps back down, this time choosing Sage’s lap.
Sage ignores her. “Why in the hell would that be part of my party? Do they think I’m demented? We have to help those people!”
I can only shake my head. I pull out my phone and call my contact line for the Cast’s envoy, leaving a message about the hunt, hoping they can stop it before too many people are butchered.
When I get off the phone, Sage picks up Aelia, moving her out of the way, and scoots closer to me. “Why would they do that, Faelan? What were they trying to prove?”
“I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense.” I just wish I knew if Kieran wanted Sage or if he wanted her dead. It would make this so much easier. I’ll just have to keep her away until after the Emergence.
We drop off Victoria and make it back to the Cottages around midnight. I carry Aelia through the yard, into the back of the main house, and up to her bedroom. I lay her out on the pink blankets, and Sage pulls down her hiked skirt and takes off her shoes, then sits on the other side of the bed.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” she asks.
“It’ll wear off with sleep, I’m sure. Druids have pretty solid metabolisms.”
We sit for a while, both just watching Aelia sleep, not sure what to say. Eventually Sage stands and we leave the room, heading down the stairs and out through the backyard. When we come to our cottages, she pauses and turns to me, like she wants to say something but she’s unsure. Her eyes search my face for a couple of tense seconds. I know I should turn away, but I can’t manage it.
“Thank you,” she finally says quietly.
But I can’t accept her gratitude. “I’m sorry I let you go in the first place. Anything could’ve happened.”
She shakes her head. “You were being supportive.” She shifts her feet, and then asks, “How many more days until this Emergence thing?”
“Seven.”
“So we’ll lay low,” she says, determination in her voice, like we’re making a plan.
“That’s what I was thinking.” I let myself step a little closer, wanting her to know I mean what I say. “But I don’t want to keep you shut in if it’s going to make you feel overwhelmed.”
She surprises me, resting her palm on my chest. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see this through. I need to know.” A thin ache blossoms where her fingers graze my sternum, and I realize she’s taking from me, unaware, even through the torque. It’s not enough to harm me, though. And a part of me is strangely comforted by it. As if it’s what I was meant to do.
My heartbeat picks up, and I wonder if she can feel it in her skin as my energy slinks into her.
She rises to her toes and brushes her lips against my cheek.
I stay still as she kisses me, and I let her pull away, rooting my feet to the spot, holding myself back from touching her.
Because I know that if I allow myself to reach out in this moment . . .
I won’t stop.