Chimes at Midnight

“Nope,” I said. “You’d smell the difference. And I’m in good spirits because things are actually . . . I don’t know. I’m starting to think this might work.” I had good allies on my side—and better, I had family.

Tybalt leaned in and kissed me before taking his hand away. “Optimism suits you,” he said. “I’ll do my best to see that it endures—but for the moment, I must be on my way.”

“I know,” I said, before kissing him. Turnabout is fair play, after all. “We’ll be at Shadowed Hills when you’re done with whatever needs doing.”

“I’ll come for you there,” he promised, and then he was gone, stepping into the shadows by the wall and fading into nothingness.

Finding myself alone in the living room, I checked the flask of fireflies in my pocket and started for the kitchen. I already had my knives, and for once, I’d managed to leave the house and come back without getting my clothes soaked in blood, ichor, or anything else. My dress wasn’t restricting my motion, and the fact that I was still wearing it would look good to the Queen’s men. It meant I was too distraught to bother getting changed.

“Quentin, hurry it up!” I shouted, as I capped off my thermos. Coffee would make everything all right. “We’re burning daylight.” It felt like half of the Kingdom was staying awake during the day on my account.

“Coming!” He came half-trotting into the kitchen. He hadn’t visibly changed, but I was sure he’d filled his pockets with something, even if it was only beef jerky. “I’m ready.”

“Good.” I waved a hand, grabbing the necessary magic to weave myself a human disguise. Quentin did the same, finishing several seconds before me even though he’d started after I did. I wrinkled my nose at him. He grinned.

“Being Daoine Sidhe has to come with some advantages.”

“Brat,” I said, without rancor, and opened the back door.

I didn’t see any of the Queen’s guards in the park, but I trusted May’s magic: they were there, and they were no doubt watching as Quentin and I got into the car. I started the engine, resisting the urge to wave as we drove past the spots with the best cover. There was no point in taunting them for doing their jobs. The fact that they had to deal with the Queen of the Mists on a daily basis was punishment enough. I even felt a little bad about what had happened to the guards who had been assigned to watch the Luidaeg’s place. They couldn’t have known what they were getting into, and I couldn’t imagine the Queen being someone who’d willingly accept a letter of resignation.

Sometimes living in a feudal society stinks. I focused on driving while Quentin fiddled with the radio, finally settling on one of the modern country stations he liked so much. We were both tired; it had been a long night, and it looked like the day wasn’t going to be any shorter. We drove in silence across the Bay Bridge, the Pacific Ocean stretching out like a blue satin sheet below us, and onward into the East Bay.

Driving in the morning after rush hour is peaceful. Having a boyfriend who can transport me without needing to worry about finding parking is nice, but I was glad to be making this trip by car. I’d been driving this road for literally decades, and no matter how much everything else around me changed, the road remained essentially the same.

We pulled into the lot at Paso Nogal Park in Pleasant Hill a little over an hour after leaving the house. Quentin was the first one out, as always, speed-walking to the base of the nearest hiking trail before turning to wait for me with ill-concealed impatience.

“Well?” he said.

“I’m coming!” I took my time locking the car, enjoying the mild frustration on his face. Quentin had lived at Shadowed Hills for years before he moved in with me. Coming back was exciting. Homecomings always are. I started toward him. “Just hold your horses.”

I was halfway to the spot where he was waiting when a male voice said, “Hey, lady, you got a quarter?”