Fire Touched (Page 46)

Warren frowned at Jesse, hunching his lanky length as if he’d absorbed a blow. “If you’d rather ride with someone else, thet’s ahlraht, Jesse. Darryl would take you.” The excessive Texas was to let Jesse know that he really wasn’t hurt. “Or Ben,” he said innocently. Ben had caused quite a stir when he’d gone to her school—subtle, the foul-mouthed Englishman was not. Warren would be a lot less likely to attract notice.

She rolled her eyes again because she knew what he was doing. But she couldn’t help but pat his shoulder and laugh, too. “Oh, let’s not bother Ben. It’s fine. We should go before I’m late.”

Warren kissed my cheek, and I gave him a hug. “Thanks,” I said.

“No worries,” he said. “Boss asked me last night if I’d take her and set up watch. Work’s been quiet lately. Kyle’s started to complain about the number of polite divorces he’s been handling. Says if they’re that civil, they probably should stay married.” Warren’s partner, Kyle, was a divorce lawyer, and Warren was a private eye who did odd jobs for Kyle’s firm.

“Quiet is good,” I said.

“That’s what I told him,” Warren said. “I don’t think he’s convinced.” He gave the room a general wave, then, with a hand on her shoulder, escorted Jesse out of the house.

“So,” I said, sitting down at the table with Zee and Aiden as soon as Warren and Jesse left. “We should talk about options for Aiden.”

Aiden looked away from me to the floor of the kitchen, where the cracked tile bore witness to his first clash with the pack.

“It might be interesting,” Zee said, “to determine whether the troll had been sent after me, after Tad, or after Aiden. If it was after Aiden, you might have more trouble with the fae.”

He meant that if the troll had been sent after him or Tad, he would handle the fallout. I had all the faith in the world that Zee could protect himself—when he was healthy enough to walk down the stairs with something approaching his normal grace. Not that it mattered. If the fae operated anything like the wolves as far as power games went, it was the pack they’d have to go after first, or they’d lose face. Bran had seemed to think we could negotiate with them—I just hoped he was right.

“I think we might be looking at trouble either way,” I said. “But let’s talk about Aiden, because he has a time limit. How hard are they going to look for you, Aiden? Would it be enough to relocate you somewhere far from the fae reservations, or are they likely to send people after you wherever you go?”

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “It seemed to me that they were most interested in how I use fae magic when I shouldn’t be able to touch it because humans can’t.” He put both hands flat on the table. The nails were bitten to the quick. “They used to take Underhill for granted. She was their home, their due, and their servant. Then she shooed them all out the door and locked it up tight against them.” He shivered. “There were other things in Underhill,” he said, not looking at any of us. “Not just us human-born changelings. There were places where the fae kept their prisoners. I suppose some of them were normal—as normal as any fae—when they were first locked up. But when she opened the prison doors—because she was lonely, she said—there was nothing remotely normal about what came out. When they killed us by the dozens, she was sad, so she gave us power to protect ourselves. She gave me the gift of fire. As far as I can tell, the fae are mostly jealous. They’ve killed enough of us that they are convinced they can’t take the fire from me and keep it themselves, though.”

Zee pursed his lips and whistled. “Did you tell any of them that she’d opened up the prisons?”

Aiden shook his head. “But they know, right? She’s opened the doors, so they’ve seen.”

“I think not,” Zee said. “I think she’s been playing games with them.” He sat back, grunted, and sat straighter. “Mercy, I think it is safe to assume they will come after him. He is beloved of Underhill.”

Aiden snorted, trying to sound nonchalant, I thought, but mostly he sounded scared.

Zee gave Aiden a sour smile. “Last night, while I slept, she whispered in my dreams. ‘Where is my beloved?’ she asked. ‘What have you done with him, Smith? Bring him back to me.’ If she is talking to other fae, they will hunt you until you are dead or they can give you back to her.”

Aiden’s eyes showed white all around. “Don’t take me back there,” he begged Zee. “Please, don’t.”

“Underhill addressed you?” I asked Zee. Unlike Aiden, I knew that Zee wouldn’t even walk across the street at the bidding of the fae—not after they put Tad in jeopardy. And what was Underhill but another form of fae? Aiden was in no danger of Zee’s returning him anywhere.

Zee nodded. “I don’t like it, either,” he said. “I never had much to do with Underhill, though I’ve attended a court or two there. Underhill, like most of the fae, is sensitive to metal, and iron-kissed is my nature. We don’t get on.” Zee tapped on the table. “It disturbs me that Underhill knows my name.”

“Me, too,” said Aiden, thoroughly spooked. “Your name, my name—I wish she’d forget them all.” He glanced over at me. “Would you keep me safe for one more day? So I can think on this? I will do what I can to stay out of your way.”

“What do you expect to accomplish with another day?” asked Zee.