An Artificial Night

I eyed him, unwrapping his jacket—unwrapping my jacket—from around the bundle of clothes and shrugging it on. The battered leather made an odd contrast against the formal silk gown. I didn’t much care. “I look like a geisha.”


A small smile tugged at his lips. “As I said, you look very nice.”

“Uh-huh.” I snorted and turned to head for the exit. Looking amused, Tybalt followed. The second time I tripped on the hem of my dress, he reached over and took the bundle of clothes from my hands. I blinked, but didn’t say anything.

Neither did he, until we were almost to my car. When he did speak, his voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“What?” I glanced toward him.

“I said, I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t realize my absence would be a problem.” His smile widened slightly. “It seemed you were eternally trying to be rid of me.”

“Yeah, well.” I stopped next to the car, taking my clothes out of his hands. “I guess I wasn’t expecting it to be quite that abrupt. Did I piss you off?”

“Piss me off? No. You didn’t. I’ve been . . .” He paused, sighing. “I’ve been looking for someone. There are questions that trouble me and I’d like to find some answers.”

“Anything I can help with?”

The question was casual; his response was anything but. Going still as a cat stalking a mouse, he studied my face, eyes darting back and forth as he considered me. Finally, almost wonderingly, he said, “No. No, I don’t think it is.” He looked oddly relieved. “My apologies for my absence. Clearly, you’ve been lost without me.”

I blinked, digging my keys out of the pocket of my jeans and checking the backseat for intruders before unlocking the car door. “You’re very strange, Tybalt,” I said. “But I guess I knew that. Do you need a lift anywhere?”

He paused, looking thoughtful. “What did Lily mean? The mistletoe and the oak?”

In for a penny, in for a pound. If he was trusting me to find his Court’s missing children, I might as well trust him with the realities of the situation. Squaring my shoulders, I met his eyes and said, “My Fetch showed up this morning.”

“Ah,” he said, softly. “I should have known it would be something of the sort.” Before I had a chance to react, he stepped forward, kissing me on the forehead. “I have to return to my Court and let the parents of the missing ones know that you’ve agreed. I’ll come to you later.”

I stared at him, stunned. “What . . . ?”

“Open roads, Toby. Find our children.” He hesitated like he was about to say something else, but he didn’t; he just turned and walked to the edge of the parking lot.

“What . . . ?” I repeated, standing there with my keys dangling in my hand.

Looking back over his shoulder, he smiled, almost shyly, stepped into the shadows, and was gone.

“This is officially getting strange,” I said, as much to hear my own voice as anything else. Missing children, a Fetch on my doorstep, Lily being freaky, and now Tybalt was deciding to redefine “acting weird”? The day wasn’t getting any better. I got into the car and started the engine.

I needed coffee, and I needed it now.





SIX



I ARRIVED HOME HALF AN HOUR and a McDonald’s drive-through later, with most of an extra-large coffee doing its best to settle my stomach. It was failing. The failure became more profound as I approached the apartment and got my first look at the front porch. Quentin was sitting there with his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees, looking for all the world like an enormous kicked puppy.