Rosemary and Rue

It was almost totally dark outside the Tea Gardens, the shadows broken only by randomly spaced streetlights and the sparkle of passing pixies. Figures both fae and human moved through those shadows, taking whatever trails the night held for them. None of Golden Gate Park’s nighttime inhabitants need much in the way of light; all it would do was show them the things they’d rather leave hidden.

Julie led the way once we were clear of Lily’s domain. Her Cait Sidhe heritage gave her night vision that put mine to shame, and even mine was probably worlds better than Ross’. Faerie ointment lets humans see through illusions, but it can’t change the human eye. He was stuck with what his blood could give him. I did my best to keep pace. The throbbing in my shoulder was constant, but not enough to be more than a mild distraction. Lily did her work well.

“It’s a nice night, for December,” I said, squinting into the foggy dark. “I can almost pretend to see my hand in front of my face.”

“I guess,” Julie said. “It’s not raining. That’s something.”

“I like the rain.”

Julie threw me a dirty look, eyes glowing a pale, annoyed green. I smirked at her. Most cats don’t like water, and despite her pretensions of tigerhood, Julie was no different. Yes, tigers have stripes; so do tabbies. If you want to know the difference, try tossing one of each into your swimming pool. Then I would recommend running.

“I don’t,” she said, sullenly.

“I do,” Ross said. Some of the tension slipped out of Julie’s shoulders and she smiled, giving me a “what can you do?” shrug. I grinned back. Cliff taught me a lot about the sort of attitude changes you sometimes have to pull midstream if you want to keep peace in a relationship. I was starting to think this Ross guy was something more than a casual fling.

The Cait Sidhe don’t fall in love often; mostly, they get involved in short, torrid affairs that don’t mean anything to either side, and they never fall in love with changelings if they can help it. It’s easier that way. Falling in love with someone that’s going to get old and die while you live forever isn’t a survival trait, and so they’ve learned to keep their distance . . . but all that means is that when they finally fall, they fall hard. Julie’s only half Cait Sidhe, but I’d never seen her look at anyone the way she was looking at Ross. I studied him with a bit more interest, trying to puzzle out where his fae blood had come from.

He must have been used to those sorts of looks, because he smiled, and said, “My mother’s father was one of the Roane.”

“Oh, I see,” I said. The Roane are gentler cousins to the Selkies. They aren’t as inclined to vengeance, and their magic is innate—they’re shapeshifters, like the Cait Sidhe, not skinshifters like the Selkies. They’re also practically extinct.

Julie flashed another grin my way. “He’s my guy.”

“That’s cool,” I said. The light was getting brighter as we approached the street, where my taxi was hopefully waiting. I wanted to go home, drink a gallon of orange juice, and eat something before I started calling people to let them know I was alive. I grimaced. Sylvester had to be in a state of utter panic, and Devin probably wasn’t much better.

A branch snapped behind us. I whirled, wincing as the bandage on my shoulder pulled the edges of the still raw gunshot wound together. There was nothing there. I still stood there for a moment before turning back to my bewildered escort, taking the time as much to catch my breath as to scan the darkness for danger.

Julie looked amused, but Ross looked terrified. Trying to be soothing, I said, “I’m just jumpy.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Julie said, “but the wind is blowing away from us. I don’t think we’re being followed.” Ross looked at her nervously, and the tiger-striped changeling smiled. “It’s okay, sweetie, we’re cool. You’ve got me and Tobes with you. What could happen?”

Never tempt fate. It plays for keeps. I started to turn when I heard the second branch snap—and it was closer now, so much closer—but I already knew that I wouldn’t be fast enough. You’re never fast enough when the danger is real.