“He’s fae,” Caleb said, running his finger along his wineglass. The crystal sang under his touch. “Our options were to take him to Faerie or give him time to rest and heal. The latter was more feasible.”
I could feel Hol y’s disbelieving stare on me, and I hunched a little further over my plate. I think it’s time to change the subject. That, or I was going to feel even worse about leaving Falin upstairs. Maybe I should call a healer despite what Caleb said.
I accepted the glass of wine that Caleb al but pushed under my nose, and then I looked at Hol y. “So where did you go this morning?”
“Go?” She made a soft snorting sound under her breath.
“I’ve got this crazy landlord-turned-nursemaid who’s barely permitted me to get out of bed.” She said it with affection, but there was definitely a strand of irritation mixed in. She looked at Caleb. “You know I’m going back to work tomorrow, right? I mean, I’m a little bruised and cut up, but I’m fine.”
He smiled at her but al he said was, “If you’re up to it.”
I frowned as he focused on his plate again. Hadn’t he said she’d left this morning? Maybe he’d been mistaken, but the fact that he hadn’t pushed the subject made me but the fact that he hadn’t pushed the subject made me think he’d already discussed it with her. Apparently it wasn’t any of my business. Not that I could complain about anyone else keeping secrets. I had more than enough of my own.
We finished dinner in a series of awkward silences separated by short bits of conversation. Afterward, as I headed for the stairs to my loft, I found I had a tagalong. A rather large, unhappy-looking tagalong.
“You planning on babysitting me al night?” I asked Caleb as I took the stairs two at a time.
“Actual y, I was planning to tel you to grab some PJs and spend the night in the main portion of the house.”
Oh, he couldn’t be serious. I glanced back as I pushed open the door to my loft. He looked deadly serious.
“I’l be fine.” I didn’t need a babysitter. He was overreacting. He had to be.
I checked on Falin. The three healing charms had puttered out already, and I tapped into the magic stored in my ring and channeled power into them, giving them a slight recharge. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Then I checked the wound. It had stopped bleeding, which was good, but I couldn’t have said for sure whether it actual y looked any better.
When I turned, I found Caleb stil shadowing me, and stil looking just as determined about my not staying in my own loft.
“I want you downstairs, behind a locked door and my wards. You and PC can stay in the guest room,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You owe me a debt, and I’m cal ing it in.”
He’d helped me move Falin upstairs, and while I didn’t think he’d been any great help to the man other than that, I could feel the debt between us, and feel the fact that I had to do what he’d asked. I sighed. It wasn’t like staying in the guest room was a bad option—it certainly was more appealing than the floor, which was what I’d been planning, but I would have liked to be closer at hand if Falin needed but I would have liked to be closer at hand if Falin needed anything during the night. Now I didn’t have the option.
I grabbed a pair of shorts and a sleeveless top and then headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I emerged, Caleb was stil waiting for me, PC dozing in his arms.
I made one more stop by the bed to tuck Falin in as much as possible with him lying on top of the unmade comforter.
If you ignored al the blood, he looked almost peaceful, as if he were just sleeping. “You real y think he’s that dangerous?”
“Al, I don’t think. I know. And he has the blood on his hands to prove it.”
Chapter 12
I woke with a jolt and slammed into the mattress a moment later as if I’d jumped in my sleep. My eyes snapped open and I blinked at the chaotic swirl of colors fil ing the darkness.
Something was wrong.
I snapped my shields closed and sat up, brushing aside the comforter as I moved. A comforter with a stiff, lacy trim.
My comforter doesn’t have lace trim.
But I wasn’t in my room or my bed—I was in Caleb’s guest room. The glowing red numbers on the clock beside the bed told me it was 3:49 a.m. Is that it? Is it just the unfamiliar room?
No. There was something else wrong.
I blinked, trying to figure out what felt off. The air hummed with the familiar resonance of the Glen—the neighborhoods surrounding the Magic Quarter, where most of Nekros’s witches and fae lived—and the grave essence reaching from the nearest graveyard felt the same as it always did.
Then I realized the issue was as much what I wasn’t feeling as what I was. I felt the magic in the Glen, and not the sheltering buzz of Caleb’s wards.
Why are the wards down?