The Winter Long

“And it just keeps getting better,” I muttered, pressing myself against Tybalt. “Well, it’s been a while since one of my cars died horribly in the line of duty.”


The Luidaeg clapped her hands together. All sounds from the street stopped. No horns honked, no birds sang. There was only the soft sound of the Luidaeg singing in a language I didn’t know, but which sounded vaguely like the snatches of Scots Gaelic that I’d heard from some of the older fae I’d crossed paths with. The apple rocked. The air chilled. And then, like something out of a Disney movie, the apple and the rose stem dissolved into glittering mist that swirled around the car, etching what looked like patterns of frost onto the otherwise dingy brown paint job. Bit by bit, my car’s true colors were concealed by an ice-white sheen. The smell of roses hung heavy in the air.

The Luidaeg stepped back and flashed me a smug smile. “Apples and roses. My sister’s signatures. She’ll never see us coming if we’re surrounded by things she believes belong exclusively to her. Her ego won’t allow it.”

I stared. “That’s . . .”

“I know.” She turned to Tybalt. “I need a distraction, cat; I need her to think we’re coming down a road she knows. Can you take the Shadow Roads and meet us in the parking lot?”

“Can you promise me that you will keep October safe?”

Her expression softened a bit. “As safe as I can. We both know that absolute safety and October are never going to cross paths.”

He snorted. “True enough. Very well, then: I will go. For all that I dislike what you ask of me, I will go.” He turned to face me. With no more preamble than that, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me close for a kiss that should probably have caused damage to the polar ice caps. He kissed me like he was never going to see me again, crushing his lips against mine until I tasted pennyroyal and musk under the veil of his desperate need for contact. I returned the kiss as best as I could, until he pulled away, leaving a void between us where his body should have been.

I must have gawked at him, because he smiled, the expression almost eclipsing the worry in his eyes.

“Now you will miss me,” he said. “Let the sea witch care for you. I will see you in Shadowed Hills.” He turned, stepping into the shadow formed by the corner of the house, and was gone.

I looked back to the Luidaeg. She was smiling, standing next to the open passenger side door. I guess Firstborn don’t care whether something is supposed to be locked. I scowled and walked past her, the taste of Tybalt’s magic clinging to my mouth as I slid behind the wheel. The Luidaeg got in next to me, slamming the door. She was still smiling.

“Don’t say a word,” I said, jamming the key into the ignition.

“I wouldn’t,” said the Luidaeg. “Love is love. It’s rarer in Faerie than it used to be—rarer than it should be, if you ask me. If you can find it, you should cling to it, and never let anything interfere. Besides, he has a nice ass.” Her lips quirked in a weirdly mischievous smile. “I mean, damn. Some people shouldn’t be allowed to wear leather pants. He’s one of them. He’s a clear and present danger when he puts those things on. Or takes them off.”

“And now you’re creeping me out,” I said. “It’s a long drive to Pleasant Hill. Maybe you could save the creepy for the halfway point?”

“Oh, no,” she said. Her eyes had gone black again, and as I watched, they faded to white, like the sun rising behind a bank of thick fog. Her smile remained. “We’re going to take a little shortcut.”

I fastened my seat belt, checking it twice before I asked, “Should I even bother starting the car?”

“It helps, believe me. Just drive normally and don’t freak out.”