An uneasy feeling slithered through her. She wasn’t sureshe liked Steve’s dissecting gaze or the tone of his voice that sounded more intrigued than worried.
And that neither Fae seemed to believe this situation was anythingbutnormal.
“When that door first opened tonight, what did you see exactly?” Steve shifted slightly, angling his body to watch her but keep an eye on his statuesque brother. “Did something change with Thaddeus, or did you see him as he is now?”
“He hasn’t changed.Youwere the one who changed.” Rori waved a finger up and down his frame. “You still had brown hair when the door first opened. Then a gold glitter filled the air, and when you popped up from behind the sofa, you looked like him. Ears and hair and your glowing eyes.”
How ridiculous. Listen to yourself, Rori.
Steve snickered, his eyes narrowing on her before turning to Thaddeus. “Nowthisis an interesting development, wouldn’t you say, dear brother? Maybe your visit wasn’t in vain after all.”
That menacing scowl returned to Thaddeus’s lush mouth. “Means naught.”
“Of course, it wouldn’t mean a thing to someone who doesn’t want to accept the signs, even if they smacked him straight across the face. Or arm, as in your case.”
Signs? What the hell was Steve going on about now? What more could possibly come from this night, other than her going home and getting plastered and hopefully waking up from this entire nightmare with a brutal hangover to ensure it was all just that—a nightmare.
“Uh, I’m standing right here. I don’t appreciate being spoken about when I’m in the same room. You can include me in the conversation, since it obviously has to do with me,” Rori said, folding her arms over her chest.
Exhaustion marred her tone, snatching the edge from herwords. She released a long, slow breath and lowered her head to gain her bearings. She would need therapy after tonight, if this wasn’t some subconscious circus her sleeping mind created. She closed her eyes and willed herself back home. In her bed. In her pajamas. The clock on her nightstand glowing with the three o’clock witching hour that would make sense of all of this. And if, by the power of the universe, this wasn’t a dream, at least to see Steve back to his normal self.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. Turned her head up.
And met Steve’s amused silver gaze.
Fuck me.
Behind him, Thaddeus’s soul-splitting glower packed intense abhorrence and maybe even denial. The wall that had taken a hit by the beast remained cracked and chipped. Glancing at the sofa, she saw Cassy continued to slumber away. There were even scorch marks on the ceiling she hadn’t noticed before. The front door remained knobless, the broken beer bottles swimming in foamy brown Guinness.
Fuck me twice. I’m really not dreaming.
Her shoulders slumped, and she sank to the edge of the sofa once more.
Finally, Steve lowered himself to his haunches in front of her, bringing them eye level. He rested gentle hands on her knees and offered a symptathetic smile of sorts. She wasn’t sure there was anything to smile about.
“I’m sorry for this, Rori. You’ve seen far more than you should have tonight. Now isn’t the time for me to overwhelm you any more than you have been. We’ll discuss things in detail tomorrow, after you’ve gotten adequate rest and allowed your mind to try and accept what it is you’ve witnessed. Unfortunately, none of this is going away. No glamour will work on you, not after your exposure tonight.” He released a sigh, his gaze drifting to Cassy. “Please, don’tdiscuss anything with Cassy. Or anyone else, for that matter. They aren’t privy to what you can now see.”
He gave her knees a gentle squeeze. “Come. I’ll carry her to the car and make sure you get off safely. I think you’ve had a night’s worth of adventure.” He pressed to his feet, holding a hand out for her. She hesitantly accepted his help from the sofa. “And Rori? You can call me whatever you’d like, but the grump moping like a scolded child behind us is correct. My name is not Steve. It’s Cael.”
4
What in the bloody hell have you entangled yourself in, Cael?
Thaddeus fisted and flexed his hands, expelling spurts of energy from his fingertips in short sprays of gray. Pent-up energy he fought to unravel and exhaust by the time his brother returned from delivering his two human companions to their vehicle. He may not be entirely knowledgeable of the nuances of the mortal realm—he never cared to dally much around humans, unlike his poor, misguided brother—but he quickly became aware of how magicless creatures moved about in their dull and pitiful world. Metal contraptions on rubber wheels. How abject.
Yet ’twas this latest complication that tormented him most. He knew of his brother’s love for human flesh. Though a full century had passed since their last encounter, he approached this challenge from Grison with a strategic plan. For a challenge ’twas this assignment, and naught more. Grison’s devious plan for him to show his loyalty to a radical group of Fae cast out of Seelie for the sake ofpreservation.
Regardless of how the Fae perceived him, killing off the last of his blood kin wasnota challenge he would accept.
Mayhap ’twas some of what Cael’s loose tongue released to that redheaded inconvenience. Words that struck a sleeping chord in his spirit. Mayhap ’twas the twisted self-questioning he forced upon Thaddeus in moments when weakness was unacceptable. Mayhap ’twas his personal affairs being hung before a mortal for her to bear witness to that scraped along his nerves the wrong way.
Not that he cared what a mere mortal thought.
A flash of the redhead filled his mind. He growled, his fingers biting into the palms of his hands. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the wench out of his head. Willed every last vision of her creamy skin, petite frame, eyes the color of emeralds, pillowy lips, and a spray of freckles?—
“Nay, stop,” he told himself on a sharp breath. The image remained, haunting, tormenting, just as his body flared with heat and his cock thickened with irrefutable lust. No one, especially a mortal woman, could ever hold a candle to his beloved Daeanna. “Bloody stop.”
“Stop what, Thad?”
