I run to the window and peer out, my heart pounding. It’s ten floors down to the street, but that’s close enough to see what’s going on. “It’s a shifter party.”

Despite their name, shifter parties aren’t any fun, nor are the shifters causing any problems. It’s vigilantes, Street Sweepers, and the like who have decided that the best way to ‘handle’ the Paranormal issue is to go and shoot as many as they can. It’s blatant murder, and while it’s against the law . . .

“We have to stop this!” I yell as I turn, reaching for my hip. My gun’s not there, though, but I don’t care, heading for the doorway. “Those are innocent—”

“We know,” Tyler says, grabbing me by the shoulders. “We can hear the screams even better than you can. But we can’t just go barreling out there.”

“Maybe you can’t, but I can, and I have to!”

“That’s admirable of you,” says Jacob, “but hypocritical. We watched in awe this morning as half a dozen of New Haven’s finest sat around doing nothing as a crowd beat a shifter boy. If he hadn’t been able to engage his wolf form in a last-ditch fight or flight response, he would have been strange fruit from a lamp post . . . while the police watched.”

“I–I heard about that,” I admit. “But we’re not all like that, just like not all of them are criminals.”

“Sorry, Eve,” Tyler says, “but how many times do we have to tell you that you’re in danger? You’ve seen the news. What do you think will happen if those disgusting vigilantes see you?”

I glance at the door, but Jacob follows my eyes, shaking his head once. “Don’t even try it, honey buns. We’re waiting on Cole.”

Stymied, I go to the window and watch helplessly as the fight moves up the street. Turning away, I glare at them in frustration.

Suddenly, I hear a whooshing noise, and I jump behind the couch just as a hover drone flies by, its 360-degree camera taking in everything. Luckily, Tyler and Jacob have their backs turned, but as the drone flies away, I sit up, panting in worry. “Jesus . . . I didn’t even think. I never have liked those fuckers. Guess they really brought out the red carpet to find me.”

“And that’s exactly why you have to stay out of sight,” Jacob says, raising his hood as he and Tyler quickly close the curtains to the condo. “About two minutes after you hit the sidewalk, you’d be swooped up. You’ll be no use to your sister or anyone else if you end up getting captured again. Or worse, killed.”

Letting out a defeated sigh, I plop down on the coach, pissed off that I’m helpless. They’re right, and I hate it, hate sitting on my ass when I could be helping. Hate not being there for Alyssa. “I need a decent whiskey before I make your heads go splat.”

Jacob chuckles. “I happen to know a thing or two about whiskey. And I just happen to have found a bottle of eighteen-year-old Ardmore with your name on it. Tyler?”

Tyler nods, going to the kitchen to pour a tumbler of scotch and water while Jacob picks up my left foot and starts rubbing it. When Tyler brings me my drink, he starts on my shoulders, and I sigh. I’m so weak, or maybe these two really do have magic fingers. “You guys really know how to make a girl turn to silly putty. Where’d you learn this?”

“You’d be surprised,” Jacob says, chuckling. “Not mad at us anymore?”

“I was never mad at you. I understand what you’re saying. I’m just frustrated about this situation I’m in. Tell you what. Finish telling me about Lunaria. I need the distraction.”

Jacob nods, working the arch of my foot and making me whimper. “A lot of the things you thought were just fairy tales, excuse the term, are there. When the realms separated, everything that wasn’t demonic but still liked to munch on faeries followed us.”

“Like what?” I ask, sighing happily as Tyler strokes my hair.

“Dragons, for one. They can be dark or light, although all are quite nasty. Then there are trolls, griffins . . . too many to list. Our government isn’t perfect either. Lunaria is still very much like a medieval system, and the common man doesn’t have a lot of rights you enjoy. Not all faeries are good either. There are dark faeries. The place is far from perfect and the system needs work, but the love and joy of living seems to flow through the air like music.”

He’s looking at me with those burning eyes again, and it’s so tempting, so easy to get lost in them. “Ow! Fucking shit!” I blurt, holding my head.

Jacob and Tyler both immediately stop what they’re doing and check on me, worried looks on their faces. “What’s wrong?”

“A sharp pain in my head, coming down with a sudden migraine.”

Tyler turns my chin to face him, his eyes swirling and his face grave. “Give me a look.”

“I know, I know,” I tell him as he checks my eyes and touches my head with his sensitive, perceptive fingers. “It’s my powers, but I wish it came with an instruction manual to make it stop. I think it’s the stress of everything that’s making it worse. Seeing Alyssa looking so scared, and now these vigilante assholes causing trouble . . .” I shake my head, tears in my eyes. “It’s too much.”

“There is one way to make it stop. Temporarily,” Tyler says, his voice low, and my breath catches.

“If you’re talking about . . .” I say before closing my mouth. While the very thought of being with my guardians again is intoxicating, the shit show going on outside and my worry for Alyssa dampen my arousal.

Tyler gently shakes his head, indicating that I mistook his meaning, and he scoots back, taking my hands. “Okay. Like Cole said, all Fae have certain shared abilities, even if men and women tend to show their magic differently. One of the simplest common forms is Faelight. It’s sort of a fireball that we can create as a type of lantern or flashlight.”

“I’m not sure I follow, but show me.”

Tyler stands up. “Here . . . like this.”

I watch, deeply intrigued, as Tyler holds his hands about six inches apart and focuses for a few seconds, muttering a word softly. After a moment, a glowing, flickering ball appears between his hands. With a smooth flick of a wrist, he holds it up in one hand before letting it wink out. “Yours should be much stronger, but almost all Fae can create a basic Faelight.”

As I look on in amazement, Jacob repeats the trick, and his ball is tighter, brighter, without any flickering, which he blows out with a small pop. “Now, hold your hands here, and focus on the idea of making a ball of light. Not fire, but light,” he says, his voice calm and instructive. “Imagine the light swirling, bending, and forming a ball.”

For the next fifteen minutes, I try, and I’ll admit that I’m not exactly talking like a lady the whole time as I try with all my will to have light form between my fingers. “I can’t—”

“Think happy thoughts,” Jacob says. “It opens up the parts of your mind that are closest to the Fae magic. And repeat after me—it’s the old word for fire—taen.”

I nod, bearing down, and suddenly . . . “I feel it,” I whisper, sweat beading my brow. I feel something turn in my head, like a stuck water faucet creaking open, and I smile. “Taen . . . there!”

I stare in wonder as a beautiful light, swirling with all the colors of the rainbows, forms between my hands. They twist and twirl, greens and blues and reds, purples and—

“That’s amazing!” Tyler whispers, watching in total rapture. “I’ve never seen one like this before!”

His praise exalts me and lifts my spirits. Finally, some progress. It might be a child’s trick by Fae standards, but I feel like I’ve tapped into a muscle that I’ve barely used before, and now that I know it exists, I can do something with it. I can find some control.

And without a doubt, I have magic. It’s not destructive, either. I don’t feel any heat and it’s not blowing anyone to smithereens. It’s just a beautiful globe of light. For the first time in two days, I have hope that I can learn to love my new state and not think that I’m a freak who’s about to destroy the world. Maybe, just maybe, I can use this to help.

“Guys, this is so beautiful,” I whisper, trying to raise it in one hand like Tyler did. “I love it—”

A sudden jolt of power in my mind runs down my arm, and the globe seems to glow with a different light than before. This one is green, but a different shade of green that’s blending with the other colors. The ball starts dancing around before flying out of my hand, careening around the room like a drunken bird as it twitters.

“Hey, what the hell is happening?” I ask. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Seems like your flame’s got a mind of its own,” Jacob says. “Were you at any time thinking kame-hame-ha?”

“Wiseass,” I reply, dimly recognizing the Dragon Ball-Z reference from watching one too many cartoons with Alyssa when we were little, before ducking as the flaming ball whooshes by, this time, definitely giving off heat. Tyler ducks too, hissing as the ball gets close enough to singe the skin on his shoulder before swinging around one more time and smacking into the wall. The drywall immediately starts smoking, greenish smoke and tongues of flame licking out. “Shit!”

“It happens,” Tyler assures me as we fetch water and start trying to put the fire out. It’s reluctant at first but eventually gives in and leaves a wet, darkening circle about a foot in diameter in the wall. “Interesting. Your powers are there, and already extraordinarily strong, but they certainly need tuning.”

“So, I guess no more playing with Faelight?”