“You could have told us your wife was a fairy. That would have been expected for someone acting in good faith.” Matt struggled to divide his attention between Vlad behind the bar and Perry drifting somewhere in the right of his periphery.
The bar door was locked. No tourists could easily barge in, and most of the Bears had chosen other diversions for the evening. Matt didn’t need to keep an eye on Perry, but he couldn’t not.
He wanted to not. He wanted to chain him to an iceberg for two or three days for what he’d done, but Matt couldn’t do that either.
Vlad grunted and kept his focus on the beer tap he was attempting to repair. “I’m protective. Certainly, you can’t blame me for that.”
“Prince Heath says she’s one of the ones we were supposed to apprehend but couldn’t find,” Perry said.
Matt looked over his shoulder at Perry on the crew phone.
“I remember that,” Arthur said. “About twenty years ago?”
“I think so,” Perry said. “I only remember that much because there weren’t many we couldn’t find.”
“What does the prince say?”
“He says, ‘Good on her’.”
Matt looked back to Vlad.
Vlad’s expression was sphinxlike. He twiddled the screwdriver into the pull and grunted.
“That means Heath has no interest in collecting her,” Cora said.
Wisely, Cora had taken a stool on the adjacent side of the bar, as far from Arthur as she could get. Matt would have insisted if she hadn’t chosen the spot on her own. He didn’t have the patience to deal with the two of them squabbling. He wanted to get the hell out of Bulgaria so he could screw his head back on.
What Perry had said about his magic hadn’t made sense. Matt had thought everything made sense when he’d been touching him, but time and distance had muddled his convictions. There was anger in him and vengefulness. But above all, there was confusion.
Obviously, Perry was his. Knowing that was as automatic as Matt’s heart beating. It was everything else that was fucking him up.
“You’d have me believe that your prince would neglect his duty of collecting your realm’s fugitives?” Vlad asked.
“Half the fairies out here are fugitives at this point,” Arthur said. “And that would be the prince’s duty at this point, anyway. Remember, his mantle, as well as the crew’s, changed when he found the princess.”
“We understand,” Cora said. “You’re skeptical. Shifters are hardwired to not trust outsiders, but you trusted your wife, didn’t you? Something about her made you think she wasn’t out to get you.”
Neve stepped into the doorway between the backside of the bar and the kitchen and chuckled. For a fairy, she was young. Not much older than Heath, but old enough to deal with a cynic like Vlad, apparently. She had dark hair, velvety brown eyes, and the high coloring of a woman who’d been standing in front of a stove all day. “You can’t credit him for having good sense,” she said in her flattened brogue. “Just powerful hormones. A Bear’s always looking for something to put his—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” Vlad turned and wagged his thick index finger at her. “I am a Bear of status, and we have guests. Will you demean me in such a way?”
“You demeaned yourself when you said those first words to me. Do you remember what they were, my love?”
Vlad wouldn’t meet her gaze.
“Memory problems today, have we?” Neve rolled her eyes and swatted a dishtowel at him. She turned to Matt. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Matt asked. “Vlad’s memory problems? I honestly couldn’t tell you.”
“No!” She laughed again. “The princess, Simone. She is Fergus’s granddaughter?”
“Oh. Yeah. Weird old guy. But I guess he’d have to be.”
“Who is Fergus?” Vlad asked.
“Oh, he’s a fascinating fairy. A key is what we call fairies like him. He can open portals and pathways to all sorts of places. He was ancient even back when I was in the realm, and mostly homebound after his bad burn. I used to tend to him a little bit,” Neve said. “You see, my mother was quite an opportunistic creature. She always told me to keep close to people who might be able to get me out of the realm. My task was to keep the paths in front of the fairy mounds tamped down for the queen’s soldiers. A pointless job, really, but I think Fergus always knew what I was trying to do. I think he waited weeks to report me missing to the palace. That’s one of the only reasons I could evade the prince. That, and not having unusual magic for the queen to notice was missing.”
“And so their prince is married to this man’s granddaughter?”
“I wouldn’t be standing here otherwise,” she said brightly. “Fergus was no toady of Rhiannon’s. He served her only because he was forced to and refused to leave the realm without his wife. His wife couldn’t be collected at the time.” She turned to Matt again.
He nodded, understanding her silent query. “She’s fine. Both she and Fergus are on this side of the veil now. As is their daughter.”
“Oh, I knew about Katie. I ran into her once ten years ago. We immediately pegged each other for what we were, identified one another, and quickly abandoned each other’s proximities.” When Neve laughed that time, practically doubling over at what must have been a hilarious memory, Vlad’s expression went soft and goofy.
Matt gritted his teeth. He could imagine what the Bear was feeling when he looked at her. And he likely didn’t have any conflicts guarding him from that sort of openness.
Once more, Matt looked over his shoulder.
Perry was holding the phone up, and Heath appeared on the screen.
Neve made her way from behind the bar and walked to him with both arms extended. She took the phone in two hands as though she were cupping Heath’s face in person. “Is that the prince? Of course it must be. Look at him. Who else could that be with those neon eyes, ah? Well, hello. Congratulations on your marriage. Fergus must be quite flustered to have you as a grandson-in-law.”
“Flustered is a mild word for what he is,” Heath muttered.
“I hear you’ve made a mess.”
“Aye. A good one.”
“I suppose all will be forgiven in due time. Here I am with Bears and three Bear children! A potent brood they are. Can you believe it? I took the first flight I could find out of…” Seemingly oblivious to the other interested parties in the bar, Neve walked off with the phone. Vlad, after shifting his weight conflictedly for a few beats, followed her into the game room.
For a couple of minutes, Matt, Arthur, Cora, and Perry sat in silence, probably all straining to hear Neve’s energetic storytelling in the neighboring hall.
Then Cora popped her lips and pushed her stool back from the bar. “I think there’s greater than a ninety-nine percent chance Vlad’ll get his network in line. I suppose you can thank Simone having decent family members for that.”
“Makes me wonder how many other fairies are adrift who don’t know what’s happening,” Perry said.
“We don’t even know what’s happening.” Matt cracked his knuckles and stared at Vlad’s abandoned screwdriver.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Yeah, you do. You’re the only one who does.
“We’ll let the prince and princess piece it all together when we get back to the Hearth,” Arthur said. “I can’t think of any good reason for us to hang around here.”
“I could,” Cora said.
“Like what?” Arthur snapped.
“Maybe Vlad will need some help getting in touch with the fringe shifter groups on the continent. I could help with that. I’m good at making friends.”
“Vertically, even.”
“Fuck you.”
Arthur turned ninety degrees on his stool and made a welcoming gesture. “Feel free. Vertically, if you’d like. I bet I don’t even smell like musty fur. That ought to press a few of your buttons.”
“In your dreams.”
“I don’t need dreams. Real life’s more reliable.”
Matt gave his head a tired shake. If Simone had been there, she probably would have shut them up and found them some chores to do. Matt may have been leading the mission but dealing with petty mate squabbles was way above his pay grade. Besides, he had major ones of his own to deal with.
“Not gonna take me up on the offer?” Arthur goaded. “I don’t have fleas. I could pick up a few, however, if that’ll sweeten the pot.”
Cora hurled something at Arthur so rapidly that Matt had almost missed the movement and couldn’t see what it was. Matt’s reactions were as quick as his father’s, so he watched the projectile spiral with deadly aim in seemingly slow motion toward Arthur’s face and knew Arthur wasn’t going to respond in time.
He opened his mouth instinctually, anyway, to tell him to duck, but the sound floated only after the utensil roll smacked into an invisible barrier and then clattered to the floor.
The mysterious shielding glimmered in the air in front of Arthur, then solidified into a gray steel panel that effectively concealed the frustrated fairy from sight.
“What…the fuck.”
Clearing his throat quietly, Perry sidled up next to Arthur, grabbed the edge of the hasty shield, and gave it a yank.
It vanished back to wherever the hell it’d come from.
Again, Matt shook his head and stared at the screwdriver.
Something out of nothing. Gods.
“I repeat,” Arthur said. “What the fuck?”
“A bit patchwork,” Perry said. “I’m sorry. Hard to imagine things clearly enough on the spur of the moment.”
“You did that, Perry?” Cora asked in a voice of awe.
Matt had never heard her use that tone before, and she’d encountered some of the most powerful fairies and witches on the planet already at Norseton. Nothing should have shocked her.
“I suppose I’m…still figuring out things I can do,” Perry hedged.
“Matt, did you see that?” Cora asked.
“I saw it.”
“You don’t seem surprised. I guess because you live with him.”
“Mm-hmm.”
He lived with him, and Perry’s last name was hyphenated onto Matt’s driver’s license. He didn’t know what had made him check to see if his IDs had updated on their own the way Simone and Dasha’s had, but clear as day, there it was: Matthew Blaine Geer-Gilisson. Bureaucracy was slow. Magic was instant. No paperwork necessary. A good old-fashioned cock-swallowing sufficed.
“I think going straight home would be a good idea,” Perry said levelly.
Fortunately, Vlad and Neve returned then.
Neve handed the phone back to Perry. “We’ll do our best to get in touch with whoever we can here. I gave the prince my honest opinion that there may be some groups who may welcome an alliance with his mother. They’ve always been more fascinated by power than discretion. We can only hope that the strength of the many outweighs the treachery of the few.”
“What can we do to assist?” Matt asked.
“Nothing,” Vlad said. “Leave it to me until I tell you otherwise. My Bears like being given things to do. I’ll pitch out each family captain to a different group to communicate the threat. They’ll hit the ground within twenty-four hours. We’ll keep the prince updated.”
Neve gave Vlad a swat on his wide rear that made the big Bear yelp. “You’ll apologize for keeping them in the lurch for a day. That was important, Vlad.”
“Gods, my humblest apologies. I was just looking out for you, Neve.”
Neve tutted and headed back to the kitchen. “I’m just one fairy to worry about. Think about how many Prince Heath has.”
Matt looked down at his buzzing phone and read the incoming text string. It was a group message from Heath sent to all four crew members in Bulgaria.
HEATH HORAN: Can’t get hold of Simone’s mum or Fergus to support her in throwing a portal. Hate to share the news this way, but she’s pregnant. Tell anyone and I’ll kill you. That being said, she’s low on energy. I can spare her some, but then we’ll both be tapped out.
MATT GILISSON: Don’t do it. And I know nothing.
Matt was already shielding like hell on the Afótama web, and he’d just gained one more reason to keep that wall raised. Once Nadia found out, half the country would know.
PERRY GEER: Does Nadia know?
HEATH HORAN: No. Not even Thom. Only the four of you, Simone’s mother, and Siobhan.
CORA FELTON: So, she’s in a bubble for the next…how many months?
HEATH HORAN: Five.
The four emitted a collective groan.
“What? What’s wrong?” Vlad asked.
“Nothing,” Matt muttered. “Just a change in travel plans.”
“Ah. Plane travel. So finicky. So tiny. So disgusting.”
“So necessary,” Cora said in an undertone.
“Hey, you could stay, you know. I’m sure Georgi will fly you home in due time.”
Matt had a hunch that Cora would feel compelled to sling another utensil roll across the room if the conversation persisted, so he intervened with, “We arrive as a team and leave as one. But thanks for the offer.”
HEATH HORAN: I don’t know how long we can keep the secret. Obviously, this wasn’t planned. We assumed it’d take a good ten or twenty years once we started trying, and we certainly weren’t trying so much as practicing. Anyhow, just means Siobhan and Simone’s brothers will have to take a more active role in this shit with Mum. Can’t risk Simone getting near it.
PERRY GEER: We’re fine with flying. Do you want me to handle arranging the flights?
HEATH HORAN: Siobhan’s on it. We can get you on a plane at seven tomorrow morning. You’ll need to head to Sofia.
Matt checked the time. They had a good ten hours to kill.
Arthur must have been thinking the same thing because he asked Vlad for a beer.
Matt opened a new message without looping the other three into it.
MATT GILISSON: Ask Siobhan to not seat Arthur next to Cora.
HEATH HORAN: Bloody hell. What now?
Matt sent Heath a string of dagger emojis and hoped that would suffice.
HEATH HORAN: …
HEATH HORAN: Are you telling me there’s going to be a problem? Simone needs her to stick around.
MATT GILISSON: Not really. They’ll sort it out. Just keep them out of a confined space for the time being.
HEATH HORAN: The bloody bastard’s in heat, isn’t he?
MATT GILISSON: …
HEATH HORAN: No use denying it. You see, I know Arthur very well. I knew he was having those thoughts when he asked me to stab him through one good time.
MATT GILISSON: …the fuck?
HEATH HORAN: Curse shit. No worries. That part of it is resolved.
MATT GILISSON: You mean you stabbed him?
HEATH HORAN: No. Simone did. Don’t worry. She doesn’t remember. No clue what the other part of his curse needs. I suppose we’ll sort it out if he starts acting weirder.
Shit.
Matt shoved a hand through his hair and gave his head a clearing shake.
Arthur probably hadn’t even been back at the Hearth for a day before he asked. The fact he was sitting in that bar was a testament to either his rapid healing abilities, incredible pain tolerance, or both.
HEATH HORAN: He’s not bleeding or festering, is he?
MATT GILISSON: Not that I can see.
HEATH HORAN: Good, good. Make sure the wound’s all sealed before you board the flight. Wouldn’t want to draw attention in a pressurized cabin. Anyhow. Siobhan will be in touch.
Matt tucked his phone into his pocket right as Perry approached the bar. Swallowing a groan, he made sure that wall in his brain was still in place. The last thing he needed was his father texting him next, asking if there was some funky shit happening on the psychic web. Knowing Matt’s luck, all his efforts would be moot, anyway, if Heath put two and two together as quickly for him as he did for Arthur.
“Would you please thank Neve for her hospitality for me?” Perry asked. “I won’t stay for a meal. I’d like to try to get some sleep before traveling.”
“She’ll be upset, but I’ll tell her you had to run,” Vlad said.
“Thank you. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Want me to keep you company for the walk back?” Cora asked.
Matt was about to open his mouth to let her off the hook, but realized she needed to go. She needed space between her and Arthur, and Matt wasn’t going to leave the erratic fairy there unchaperoned. He would probably find a Bear to pick a fight with once Vlad decided to unlock the door.
“I’d appreciate that, Cora. Thank you.” Perry departed without a word.
Matt held his tongue and dragged closer the beer mug Vlad placed in front of him.
He was tempted to ignore the buzz of his phone in his pocket, assuming that Siobhan had already tossed him their travel details.
But he realized Arthur’s phone hadn’t buzzed.
Taking a deep swallow of the pale brew, Matt read.
OTAMA GRANT: Is that Perry you’re overlapping on the web?
Arthur reached over and pounded Matt’s back hard when his swallow of beer went down the wrong way. “Multitasking, man. It’s gonna kill us all. You all right?”
Matt blew his nose into his bar napkin to expel the beer he’d coughed up into it and dried his phone screen on his shirt.
He’d forgotten about Ótama. He’d been so worried about the immediate family that he hadn’t remembered that the person who held the web had a view no one else did.
OTAMA GRANT: Hello?
Shit.
As Vlad unlocked the door and Arthur busied himself with the pile of food Neve set in front of him, Matt edited his response in his brain.
MATT GILISSON: Not sure what you’re seeing. Perry’s my roommate.
OTAMA GRANT: Oh. Just tidying up connections. Didn’t mean to alarm you.
MATT GILISSON: What do you mean by tidying up?
OTAMA GRANT: Hard to explain. Sometimes I catalog and file information so Contessa and Muriel can more easily make sense of relationships. Less work for them that way.
MATT GILISSON: So, you clean things up so no one pays attention or worries about things unnecessarily, you mean?
OTAMA GRANT: Yes, I suppose so!
MATT GILISSON: Maybe you can do that this time, then. We pool magic sometimes to push it out further. That’s probably why there’s a blur. Heath calls it fairy backwash. Can you just tuck Perry under me or whatever? So he’s not psychically visible?
OTAMA GRANT: Just did. When are you visiting? We miss you.
Matt let out an exhalation of relief. He only had nine hundred and ninety-nine things to worry about instead of a thousand.
MATT GILISSON: Soon. For your birthday, for sure. Tell Lachlann that Heath’ll probably be reaching out soon about what’s happening in Europe.
OTAMA GRANT: Splendid. Love you, dear one! Bye!
One of the most powerful witches to ever exist had a penchant for exclamation points and absolutely never assumed her young relatives had sex. She’d been around in one form or another for a thousand years, and Matt doubted she’d ever change.
Unlike with Rhiannon, that was a good thing.
Matt turned his focus back to the bar, and to Arthur, who’d just that quickly found himself a staring contest to get into with an uncharitable Bear.
Matt groaned into his drink and murmured, “No bar fights. Only Tess is allowed to have those.”
“We could always take it outside,” Arthur said.
“Drink your beer, man. Just drink your beer.”