Creed rubbed one hand over his face and sighed loudly. “Yeah. It’s not reliable, but yeah.”
“We can use this. Figuring out how to strengthen our weapons will take a little practice, but . . .”
“It’s not a weapon, Zeph. It’s me. It’s my feelings, my voice.”
Zephyr shook his head. “It felt like a weapon. You hit me with it.”
“Well, you’re a special case. Not everyone pisses me off the way you do,” Creed drawled.
There was no reasoning with him when he got like this. Creed was exhausting, like a recalcitrant child in his best of moods. They’d decided years ago in silent but mutual agreement that they would always have a buffer with them. Often it was Alkamy, but sometimes Roan or Will drew the short straw. Tonight, they were unsupervised.
After a few silent moments, Creed asked, “Did you go?”
“Yes. I visited Endellion. I was coming back when Lilywhite saw me. It was . . . harsh.”
A muffled gasp behind him stopped any further words.
He turned. Lilywhite stood behind him, the door falling shut behind her. Her hand was curled around a glass of what looked like fruit juice.
“You were visiting whom?”
“Endellion,” he repeated, after sparing a glare for Creed, who had obviously known Lilywhite was standing there when he asked the question.
Lilywhite stepped backward, not quite fleeing but on the brink of flight. “How do you know that name?”
Zephyr made a quick calculation and a decision.
“Because I serve her,” he said, not looking away from Lilywhite’s stricken expression. “The once Unseelie Queen, who holds the Hidden Throne. Endellion, the Queen of Blood—”
“And Rage,” Lilywhite finished. She waved her hand like she’d brush his words away. She walked around the front of the love seat. “Hardly anyone knows her true name.”
Zephyr shrugged. “You do,” he pointed out.
Lilywhite settled onto the love seat next to Creed. His arm was stretched along the back, not touching her, but nearer than Zephyr liked.
He balled his fists until he thought his hands would bleed again. He hated the unfamiliar feeling inside him, a twist of rejection and envy. He couldn’t expect her to know, not yet. She hadn’t even known she was true fae, or a Sleeper. Still, it stung, no matter how much he could explain it to himself. Creed’s expression was tense, as if he wasn’t sure if Zephyr was going to lose his temper over the fact that she’d chosen to sit beside him or not. They’d had girls prefer one or the other of them, but Lilywhite wasn’t just a girl. She was Zephyr’s. They all knew it—all except her.
Both boys were still, not reacting, not speaking. Lilywhite seemed oblivious to the tension between them. She was staring into her drink like there were answers hidden in her juice. After several moments, she said, “My mother left me a book. It tells a different story than the one in the textbooks and news reports. It calls her by name. The king as well . . .”
“You have a book about the queen herself?” Creed interjected.
“Yes.” Lilywhite took a sip of the juice she’d carried back with her. Despite the revelations today, she seemed calm, but Zephyr wasn’t sure if it was an act or not. She added, “About her, the war . . . a lot of things.”
A waitress walked into the room with drinks. They were all silent as she approached them.
“She said you were here and asked that I bring you two of Zephyr’s usuals,” the girl said tentatively.
When Creed looked at Lilywhite and raised both brows, the waitress sent a nervous look at Creed. “But I could get you something else . . .”
Surprisingly, he said, “No. This is fine for now.”
Once she was gone, Creed looked at Lilywhite. “Subtle.”
“Rarely.”
Envy blossomed again in Zephyr and threatened to rise up and choke him this time. “Sleepers can’t have relationships without approval.”
“Who?”
“Sleepers. There are seven of us. The three of us”—he gestured between them—“and Alkamy, Violet, Will, and Roan.” Zephyr kept going, despite the angry look on Creed’s face and the wide-eyed confusion on Lilywhite’s. “We are a unit. For some reason, you weren’t raised knowing like we all were, but you’re here now.”
“That doesn’t make sense. You dated Kamy,” Lilywhite pointed out.
“You know her?” Creed interjected.
“Met her tonight. Suitemate. Gave me a tour,” she summarized.
Creed nodded, and Zephyr stared at them. They seemed to communicate so effortlessly.
“That was cover for both of us. I need to think about the good of the whole cell.”
“And who gives permission?” Lilywhite asked.
“Me,” Zephyr admitted.
“Right,” she drawled, sounding too much like Creed already.
“None of us know for sure which court we belong to or if we’re related. No one knows who our parents are.”
“You’re all adopted?”
“No, Lilywhite.” The time for subtlety was long past. “We are all changelings. You are a changeling. Endellion, our queen, had a plan. Her loyal subjects placed their children in homes of humans who were powerful in some way. We would be safe that way, and our handlers taught us what we needed so when the time came we could be soldiers for our people.”
Lilywhite said nothing.
Zephyr reached out and covered her hand with his, to offer her comfort, to let her know she was no longer alone. He’d always had true fae in his life. When he was trying to make sense of his affinities, so too was Alkamy. Creed was too. Lilywhite had only been alone.
Gently, Zephyr said, “I can’t believe you made it this long without help, without anyone knowing that you were unguided. We’re all together now. You have other true fae around you. We’re a unit. We protect one another.”
“No. You’re wrong about me.” She started to pull away from him, the gesture hurting as her knuckles jabbed the cut on his palm. “I’m human, and I know exactly who my parents are.”
Zephyr’s hold on her tightened. “No, you’re not. You only know what they think they know. They don’t know it, but you’re not human.”
When she didn’t reply, Creed said, “Neither are we, Lily. Not fae-bloods, Lily, but fae. True fae. Full-blooded. Born of them, and placed here with a mission.”
Zephyr was grateful for his presence for the first time that night. It wasn’t enough though. Lily snatched her hand back from Zephyr’s and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t argue, didn’t run, simply watched them like she was debating how best to make them suffer. She reminded him of the queen herself.
“You’re not human, Lilywhite. Neither am I. Neither is Creed . . . or the others.” Zephyr watched her as he spoke. “There’s so much you don’t know, but—”
“I know everything I need to know.” Lily met Zephyr’s eyes and told him, “I am Iana and Nicolas Abernathy’s daughter. I am fae-blood, but there’s no way I’m true fae. This is ridiculous.”
“You might be Seelie after all,” he muttered.
“I can assure you that I’m not.”
“I hope not,” Zephyr said. “I’d rather you were Unseelie.” He paused and looked at her before adding, “Like me.”