“What are you still doing here?” Vetta asked. “They will hang you, if they realize you did it.”
“I am well aware of that, but I was not free to leave until you were,” said Xanthe. She looked around. “It is not safe to stay here and have this conversation. You still need to leave immediately.”
Seremela and Duncan looked at each other. He murmured, “Understanding what happened or getting involved is still not our mission.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Seremela said grimly. She remembered where they had parked the SUV and started hauling Vetta in that direction.
That was when Vetta chose to dig in her heels, literally. By simply not moving, she dragged Seremela to a stop. “Why?” Vetta said raggedly to Xanthe. “They held me in a metal building without food or water, and I knew I was going to die. All of that was because you murdered someone, and I need to know why.”
For the first time since she had approached them, Xanthe exposed emotion in her body language as she shifted sharply and rubbed the back of her neck. Then she said abruptly, “I work for the Dark Fae Queen. More accurately, I work for her chief of security. I didn’t just murder Thruvial, I executed him on orders for crimes committed against the crown. I had no idea that you would get blamed for his death. Now will you go?”
As soon as the Dark Fae woman mentioned the Queen, Seremela and Duncan jerked to a halt. They stared at Xanthe.
“Oh hell,” said Duncan. “She’s telling the truth.”
Seremela was beginning to feel dizzy from all the shifts in reality over the last few hours.
Murder. Illegal drugs. A pariah, and now inter-demesne politics. Oh, and she couldn’t forget to add theft of a major item of Power to that list, not when its subtle, fathomless Power was slowly but surely soaking into the bones of her shoulder. It felt good, nourishing and exotic at the same time, and she didn’t trust that feeling one iota.
Vetta had started to speak. Seremela interrupted her. “No more discussion.” She had never used such a harsh tone of voice with her niece before. Vetta looked shocked and her mouth shut with a snap. Seremela steered her niece back around in the direction of their SUV as she said to Xanthe, “Thank you for watching out for my niece. Either come with us now or stay, and goodbye.”
Duncan moved to Seremela’s side with smooth, liquid grace. Xanthe took a few steps backward as she said, “My thanks, but you would be much safer withou—”
A new voice interrupted her. “We could not believe it, Xanthe, when we heard that you defended our lord’s murderer and escorted her from Gehenna. Now we see your betrayal with our very own eyes.”
For the second time that night, Duncan blurred. By the time Seremela had spun around, he already faced the two newcomers with his gun aimed at their heads.
They were Dark Fae, a male and a female, dressed like Xanthe in simple leggings and sleeveless tunics, with swords strapped to their backs. They stared from Xanthe to Vetta and Seremela, their expressions bitter with hate.
“She is innocent,” said Xanthe as she drew her sword. “They will pass from this place unharmed.”
“She’s poison,” spat the male. “She made no secret of how she loathed our lord, and now she has brought another of her kind who is even more poisonous.” He and his companion drew their swords as well, and the sound of the long scrape of metal ran down Seremela’s spine.
“Do they not comprehend that you have a gun trained on them?” Seremela said incredulously in Duncan’s head.
Xanthe lunged, the others stepped to meet her and the clash of steel rang out.
“I can’t use it and they know it,” said Duncan. “The gunshot would draw too much attention. The sound of the swordfight is bad enough.”
He tossed the gun at her. Shocked, she made an incoherent noise and let go of Vetta to stumble forward, just barely managing to catch it.
“I hope you can shoot,” Duncan told her. “Use it as a last resort.”
She stared at him, caught the moonlit edge of his shadowed smile, and then he sprang at the three fighting Dark Fae.
Vetta was whispering, “Oh gods, I just want to wake up and be in my own bed.”
Seremela’s hands shook as she checked the 9 mm. Duncan had put it on safety before he tossed it to her. She clicked it off and stood ready as she watched the fight. While she was by no means an expert, yes, she knew how to shoot.