“They knew it was necessary,” Kat said, with no small measure of regret. “We sent only volunteers.” The twelve were spies, mature women, Adepts, sent into Elyreum because the Shedon had finally unanimously agreed they could no longer go on without gathering intelligence on the state of the Fae court. For two long years they’d waited and prepared, giving the Fae wide berth. Never going near them, as Mac had demanded.
But rumors had been growing that the Fae had changed, and how could they hope to prepare for a war if they didn’t know their enemy? The team had gone in with full awareness of what they were getting into. What was being asked of them. They’d been working the shift for a week. And each morning, when they returned from having sex with the Fae, Kat had used her gift on each in turn, painfully aware of how ruthlessly, overwhelmingly seductive the Fae could be. To a woman, their dozen sidhe-seer spies at Elyreum had remained true. Night after night they’d let their bodies be used, while protecting their minds, mining for tidbits of information. Had sunk to the depths necessary to infiltrate the club, while holding onto their essential selves. And for so little gain. All they’d been able to tell the Shedon thus far was that the Fae were definitely more powerful, to degrees unknown, definitely changed by the Song, but there was an inner circle of High Fae cloistered deep within their own private club, to which a highly select few were ever granted access. None of the twelve had yet gained an invitation.
Now they were gone. All of them. Vanished without a trace. They’d left for the club, as usual, Saturday evening and failed to return Sunday at dawn. They’d been missing for two days now, and she feared the worst.
“What did Dani say?” Colleen asked. “Has she had any luck searching for them?”
“I didn’t tell her they were missing for the same reason we agreed not to tell her we were sending spies in. Had she known, she’d have insisted on accompanying them. If she knew they were missing, she’d storm into Elyreum, demanding answers at the tip of a sword. We all know what outcome that would have.”
Enyo said, “Our oath to the Fae queen would be broken. That sword is part of Dani’s soul. She can’t not kill Fae. The only way she’s managed it this long, and kept her word to Mac, is because she won’t allow herself to go anywhere near them.”
“Precisely. That’s why we can tell her nothing. Continue your search. Continue your silence.”
Nodding, the Shedon rose and prepared to head back into the city to find their missing sisters.
* * *
π
“Mommy, why are the Fae bad?” Rae said later as Kat tugged off her shoes and began to run her bath.
“Not all of them are,” she replied absently, mulling the day’s events with half her mind.
She realized what she was doing and forced herself to put away the abbey’s business for a time. Her daughter deserved her full attention, a thing she’d never known from her own mother. She’d been deemed a worthless implement by both her parents; handicapped with such extreme empathy, she’d seemed broken, even insane, as a child.
Rae was her world. An unexpected gift. A treasure she would forever cherish, protect, and love, and do all in her power to raise well. The love of a child from her own flesh was the purest an empath could know.
Her daughter had been slow to start talking but, given her own childhood, that hadn’t concerned her. Then suddenly, a month ago, Rae had begun blurting words she’d no idea her daughter even understood, stringing them together into impressive sentences.
“The Spur-shee like me,” Rae announced happily. “They say I smell good to them.”
Kat froze, her hand tightening on the edge of the antique, enameled, claw-foot tub in their suite. “Did they say what you smell like?”
Rae shook her head, black curls bouncing, eyes dancing merrily. “Just that I’m yummy. They smell yummy to me, too.”
“Like what?” Kat asked.
Rae nibbled her lower lip and thought. Then scrubbed at her nose and laughed. “It tickles my nose. Just good.”
Pollen, Kat thought. Many of the tiny Fae, banished from their own court, lived tucked inside human blossoms, made homes in fragrant, herb-drenched thickets and nests in piney glades. Lately, some of the sidhe-seers had taken to building diminutive wooden houses for them, painted bright colors. She’d half expected the earthy Spyrssidhe to protest the humanlike structures, but the other day she’d watched a couple—they mated for life—battle a surprised, hostile sparrow at their door, protecting their new abode.
“Come, love, your bath is ready.”
“Bubbles?”
“Not tonight. Only on hair-washing nights.” Rae’s hair was so thick and curly, it was a chore to wash. They only did it every third night, and then bubbles in her bath were her reward for the time she had to sit while Kat detangled her hair.
“Mommy,” Rae said, “my back itches. I can’t reach it.”
Smiling, Kat held out her arms, and when Rae stepped into them, snuggling to her chest, she tugged her daughter’s shirt off over her head.
“It itches bad.”
“Turn around and let me see it, pumpkin,” Kat said.
“I’m not a pumpkin. Today I’m a dragonfly.”
“Well, then, little miss dragonfly, turn—”
But Rae had already turned and bent forward. “Mommy,” she huffed, “itch!”
“Did you lay on something today?”
“I always lay on things.”
“Like what? Rocks? Something sharp?”
“Just things. Grass and stuff.”
“But there might have been rocks in the grass.”
“Don’t ’member any. Itch.”
Kat raised a hand that trembled only slightly and scratched her daughter’s beautiful, smooth skin that was so much like Sean’s, fair yet with the slightest sun it turned golden.
There were two identically sized, round, pink blemishes.
One on each shoulder.
Raise a little hell, raise a little hell, raise a little hell
I WAKE UP GRUMPY AND discombobulated most of the time, unless I’m under attack. Then I wake up sleek, cool, and lethal. Lack of pressure turns me into a high velocity Ping-Pong ball that bounces off anything it encounters. Adversity molds my finest shape.
Today was a disturbing anomaly. I woke feeling bright, focused, alert. More well-rested than I could recall being in years.
Something was definitely wrong.
I snatched my sword, vaulted from bed, and spun in a tight circle, seeking intruders. There were none. I was alone in my bedroom and the beast was gone.
I forfeited a split second of situational awareness to seething about that, then resumed analyzing my inexplicably fine mood. There was no other explanation for it; there had to be a threat somewhere in my flat.
I set to clearing every room, closet, and cubby.
Nothing.