Rianna’s head snapped up at the sound, her sunken green eyes a little too wide. Then her gaze landed on me, and her thin lips spread into a weak smile. She jumped to her feet.
“Al!” She al but ran around the side of the table. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, the rough material of her gown scratchy against the skin left bare by my tank top.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t come.”
She stepped back. Before I’d seen her inside Coleman’s circle a month ago, I—and the rest of the world—thought she’d died four years back. It turned out she’d been kidnapped and enslaved in Faerie. When I’d destroyed Coleman, the silver chains holding her had dissolved, but she looked no better now than the last time I’d seen her.
Roy cal ed her the Shadow Girl, and she truly looked like little more than a shadow of the girl who’d been my best friend in academy. Her grayish skin lacked any rosy hint of health, her once-vibrant red hair now hung listlessly around her shoulders, and her eyes had the haunted look of someone who had seen too much pain and too much evil—
which,
considering
she’d
been
enslaved
to
a
megalomaniac, she probably had.
“Of course I came,” I said as I stepped back. A pang of guilt that I hadn’t come earlier, that it had taken a plea for guilt that I hadn’t come earlier, that it had taken a plea for help nailed to my porch to get me to the Bloom to see her, wiggled under my skin and whispered what a horrible friend I’d turned out to be. I ignored that voice. “It’s been too long,”
I said, smiling. Both the smile and the statement were true
—I real y was glad to see her. We hadn’t had any time to catch up when I’d seen her last. But even as the words left my mouth, I could feel the awkwardness between us. What do you say to your best friend after she’s been enslaved by a psychopath and presumed dead? I fidgeted with my purse strap. “So, what’s happening? You said you needed help?”
She nodded and led me to the table. The enormous dog continued growling, lower now but no less threatening. He stepped in front of Rianna, blocking her from me with his own body. Rianna cooed at him under her breath. “It’s al right, Desmond. This is the old friend I told you about.”
The dog stared at me, and I felt a trickle of sweat trail down my neck as he caught me in the glare of those redringed pupils. The growl leaking out of Desmond’s throat ceased, but he kept his rust-colored canines exposed.
“New pet?” I asked as I sank into the chair across from Rianna.
Her hand moved to the massive dog’s head, and he leaned against her legs, dropping his muzzle in her lap.
“No, not a pet. More of a friend turned guardian. This is Desmond. He’s a barghest. Desmond, this is Alex Craft.”
The barghest lifted his head briefly, gave me an unimpressed glance, and then nuzzled Rianna’s thigh.
Back at you, buddy. Not that I could say as much out loud. I mumbled a quick “Nice to meet you,” just to be polite.
I hadn’t read much about barghests, but I vaguely remembered a tale suggesting that seeing one was a portent of death— not reassuring—but they were fae creatures, or perhaps lesser fae, so polite was the best approach. Not that Desmond seemed inclined to show me approach. Not that Desmond seemed inclined to show me the same courtesy. Guess we’ll agree to ignore each other.
I pul ed my chair closer and leaned forward. “Your letter sounded urgent. Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I have an odd request,” she said, her hand stil idly stroking the dog’s head. “Can I see your palms?”
I blinked at her. My palms? “Are you reading fortunes now?” I joked, but obediently placed my open palms on the table. Then I gasped.
Dark red liquid coated both of my hands—red liquid that looked a whole lot like blood.
I jumped to my feet. “Are you hurt?” I asked, starting around the table. The blood had to be hers. It must have transferred to my hands when I hugged her.
Desmond rounded on me, blocking my way.
“I’m fine, Alex, Desmond. Both of you, sit.”
I frowned at the fae dog and then at her again. What’s going on? When Rianna just stared at both of us, I final y returned to my side of the table and sat. We were both stubborn—spending half our lives as roommates during academy had provided plenty of opportunities for our unyielding natures to butt heads. She’d asked me to come and I wanted to hear what she had to say, so for now I sat.
Desmond continued to stare over the table at me for several seconds before he sat back on his haunches and laid his head in Rianna’s lap again.
“So if you aren’t hurt, whose blood is this?” I asked as I lifted my purse with one finger. Thankful y the tissue I’d used earlier was stil on top of the purse’s contents and I didn’t have to root around and risk getting the blood al over everything.
“How familiar are you with fae inheritance?”
I frowned at her. Well, that definitely doesn’t answer my question. “Not at al . Now about the bloo—”