40

Evie pulled her car onto the concrete pad. The lavender had bloomed; several fat bees were buzzing around the fuzzy purple spikes. Other than that, the house was unchanged, its gray Formstone exterior practically indestructible. Was it only Tuesday? It felt like they’d been gone a month.

She nudged Kyler, who was hunched over his phone playing a game. “We’re home.”

He pocketed the phone. “Looks like everything’s still in one piece.”

“Yeah.” She couldn’t help but smile; it was what their mom had always said.

Jace pulled his motorcycle to a stop behind them. Adric was sure Corban had left the country, but Jace wasn’t letting Evie out of his sight. “There’s still the night fae,” he’d said. “We don’t know what Tyrus told his lair.”

If Jace wanted to stay close, that was fine with Evie—she wasn’t an idiot. Besides, why would she want to be separated from her mate?

She watched in the rearview mirror as he removed his helmet and glanced around, a badass fada in sunglasses and a worn leather jacket. Her womb clenched. She still couldn’t believe he was hers.

She jerked her chin at the mirror. “You sure you’re okay with this?” she asked Kyler. “Me and Jace?”

“Sure. I mean, how many guys have a shifter as a brother-in-law?”

“There is that.” They exchanged a grin. “But seriously—we may have to move to Baltimore. I haven’t talked to Jace, but I don’t think he wants to live up here.”

“I can adapt.” Kyler reached into the backseat for their backpacks. “Don’t forget, I’m not always going to be living with you. This way, I don’t have to worry about you.”

“Worry about me?” she repeated faintly.

“Yeah,” he said as they got out of the car. “It goes both ways, you know.”

She met his eyes over the car roof. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess it does.”

Mrs. Linney was on her stoop, heart-shaped sunglasses perched on her nose and a pink visor on her steel-gray curls. She waved her cigarette in their direction. “Hey, Evie. Kyler.”

They waved back. “Morning, Mrs. Linney.”

Jace set a hand on the small of Evie’s back. She smiled up at him and turned to Mrs. Linney. “I want you to meet my friend—”

“Jace Jones. I remember. How are you, son?”

“Good,” he returned politely. “And you?”

“Not bad.” She dragged on her cigarette. To Evie she said, “I wondered where you were. I was fixing to call the police.”

She grimaced. “Sorry about that. I would’ve told you but it was kind of sudden.”

“Um-hmm.” Mrs. Linney eyed Jace. “Well, as long as you’re all right.”

“We’re fine. Thanks for keeping an eye on the house.”

They headed up the gravel path. As Kyler unlocked the door, Evie’s nape prickled and she was hit by a sense of déjà vu. This was how it had started, except instead of being dark and rainy, it was a sunny morning.

“Inside—both of you.” Jace pushed her into the kitchen and turned to face the alley.

A tall man with white-blond hair sauntered into the yard. Jace tensed, but Evie set a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. It’s my dad.” Trust Fane to show up when the danger was past.

“Evie, love.” He held out his arms.

She slipped around Jace and down the steps. He was her dad, after all.

Long arms wrapped around her. “I hear you had a spot of trouble.”

“You could say that.” She rested her head against his shoulder. He smelled of the outdoors, a familiar grassy scent that made her eyes sting. “How did you know?” she asked as she released him and stepped back.

He moved a shoulder. “Word gets around. I came as soon as I could.”

Jace came up beside her. “We handled it.”

“Did you now?” Fane asked mildly.

Mrs. Linney wasn’t even pretending not to eavesdrop. Fane nodded at her. “How are you, Betty?”

She beamed back. “Can’t complain. And yourself?”

They exchanged a few words and then Fane set his arm around Evie’s shoulders and headed with her toward the house. “Why don’t we take this inside?” He quirked a brow at Jace, who was blocking the way. “Do you have something to say, fada?”

Jace shook his head and stepped aside. “Not here,” he muttered.

In the kitchen, Evie got beers for Jace and Fane, and sodas for her and Kyler. They sat at the table, Evie and Kyler on one side, her dad across from them. Jace took a stance behind Evie, arms folded over his chest.

Fane studied them with clear blue eyes that somehow didn’t give away a thing. As usual, his sharp-boned, handsome face hadn’t aged a day. Pretty soon people were going to think he was her brother, not her father. He wore his usual loose linen shirt over skinny black jeans, and his pale hair was tied back with a leather cord so that you could see his ears. With a jolt, she saw they came to a point at the top. Why had she never noticed? But then, she hadn’t been looking for proof her dad was part fae.

“Now what’s this I’m hearing about you and a night fae?” Fane asked. “And why does this earth fada think he has a claim on you?”

Jace placed his hands on Evie’s shoulders. “I’m her mate.”

His dark brows shot up. “Are you now?”

“Yes.” Jace’s tone was that of a man who wasn’t going to give an inch.

“This is true?” Fane asked her.

She touched Jace’s hand. “Yes.”

“Well,” he drawled, “that’s a complication I didn’t expect.”

“Why?” she asked.

Fane jerked his head at Kyler. “Why don’t you leave us? There are some things it’s best a human not know.”

Kyler bristled, but before he could object, Evie said, “He stays. I’m not keeping secrets from my own brother.”

Her dad’s eyes narrowed but Evie simply stared back. Fane rubbed his lower lip and then inclined his head. “You’ll promise to guard her secret, then,” he said to Kyler. “It’s for her safety as much as yours.”

“Of course.” Kyler folded his arms. “I’m not the problem here—you are.”

Fane shrugged and turned back to Evie with a rueful smile, the one that could always get around her mom.

Evie stared back stonily. “I’m waiting.”

“So I see.” He took a sip of beer. “Where do I start?”

“How about with what kind of fae you are? And why you never told me? And why you left me and my mom—”

“Slow down, love.” Fane held up a hand. “The first question’s simple—ice fae.”

“Ice fae?” Evie blinked.

“Not sun fae?” Jace inserted.

Her dad shook his head. “My father was half ice fae. I was born and raised in Canada. As for your other questions, well, let me tell you a little something about myself first.”

Kyler moved restlessly. “Is this going to be one of your stories?”

Fane’s blue eyes glittered. “Fae don’t lie.”

“But you’re not pure fae, are you?”

“No, but the fae blood makes it hard for me to tell lies, and it hurts like a bitch if I do.” He sat back, one arm on the chairback, long legs stretched out before him. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

“We do.” Evie elbowed Kyler and he subsided.

“I’m not that old, as fae go,” Fane said, “and I won’t live as long as a pureblood. But I was born in the early 1900s. My father was an ice fae, and my mother was a human. They were mates, and he was faithful to her until she died. But I didn’t grow up with the ice fae—they don’t have much use for half-bloods. My father was stationed in Newfoundland by the ice fae king. He pays the half-bloods to keep an eye on things for him in various territories around the world.”

“To spy for him,” Jace said. “Just so we’re clear.”

Fane moved a shoulder. “The king likes to stay informed.”

“Is he still alive?” Evie asked. “My…grandfather?”

“He is.”

“But—didn’t he ever want to meet me?”

“No.” Fane’s eyes slid away from hers. “I figured it was better that way—your world is the human world. Why complicate things by letting you know you have a bit of fae in you?”

“I see.” Her tongue felt thick. This was a fresh hurt. It was bad enough to have a father who could go for years without seeming to recall her, but she hadn’t even known her grandfather was alive—and worse, that he wanted it that way.

“I haven’t seen him for years myself,” Fane said. “My mother lived into her eighties. After she died, my father went a little crazy. It’s hard on the fae, losing a mate. They say you feel like your heart is ripped out.”

Behind her, Jace murmured agreement and squeezed Evie’s shoulders. Love pulsed to her through their bond. Warmed, she sent a pulse back, still awed at this intimate connection they shared. A connection that told her Jace loved her no matter who or what her father was.

The hurt faded. Because she had Jace at her back, caressing her shoulders, and Kyler at her side, glaring at Fane.

“We lost touch,” Fane continued, “but last I heard Father was in Patagonia for some damn reason. As for me, I’m one of the king’s envoys.”

“An envoy? You’re some kind of messenger?”

He nodded. “Turns out I have the fae Gift of wayfaring, which is rare in a quarter fae.”

“That’s what Jace said the night fae was,” Evie said.

“Lord Tyrus? Word is he’s dead.” Fane glanced from her to Jace.

Evie’s chest tightened. Jace gripped her shoulders, asking her to let him handle this. “Is he?”

Fane recognized evasion when he saw it. “The son of the night fae prince,” he confirmed. “As you know damn well—and that’s why I’m here.”

“What d’you mean?” Jace asked.

“I’ll get to that in a minute.”

Jace rumbled irritably, but Fane just lifted a brow. “You don’t scare me, fada.”

“Then you’re a fool,” he shot back.

“No. Just a man who’s smart enough to know you won’t attack your own mate’s father.”

That silenced Jace. He gave a terse nod. “Go on.”

“You’re right that Tyrus was a wayfarer,” Fane told Evie, “but his Gift was to move very fast. Mine is different—I blend into my surroundings. Even if you know I’m there, your gaze slips right past me. You never see me unless I want you to.”

“So you sneak up on people?” Kyler inserted.

“You could put it that way.” Fane gave him a cool, dangerous smile, and Evie instinctively jumped in to draw his attention back to her.

“And you work for the ice fae king?”

Fane inclined his head. “I’m part messenger, part negotiator. The king can send his own messages, but for some things, he needs an envoy who can carry a message back, or cut a deal if need be. Or simply observe and report back.”

Evie’s hands balled on her lap. “You should never have married my mom.”

“I didn’t. We weren’t married, and we weren’t mates.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”

Sorrow flickered across Fane’s fine-boned face. “I know I hurt her, and I’m sorry for that. I wouldn’t have done that for the world.”

“But you did.”

“She wasn’t supposed to have a child. Usually only mates can conceive.” Fane passed a hand over his face. “Hell. That sounds as if I didn’t want you, love, but I did. I was so happy when your mother told me about you. Believe that if nothing else. As for why I never told you?” He moved a shoulder. “I intended to get around to it someday. You don’t have a fae Gift, so it didn’t seem urgent.”

Evie scraped a hand over her hair. She’d sort through this later. “So what about me and the fae lights?”

“What do you mean?”

She opened her backpack and lobbed one at him. Fane threw up a hand and it smacked against his palm. They all heard the sizzle.

“Holy mother.” Fane swatted the glowing orb away. “Did you make that yourself?”

“No. I brought it from Jace’s den.” Actually, a fae light had split itself in two, and one half had floated into her backpack while the other half remained back in Baltimore.

“So it’s a fae light?”

“Yes,” said Jace. “But she used it against the night fae. Not that it killed him, you understand. But it did burn him—bad.”

“How about that?” Fane rubbed his chin. “Your great-grandfather is one of Sindre’s top warriors. He can make fae balls from the energy in oxygen. If you hit someone hard enough, it’s like tossing a grenade at them—and poof.” He opened his fingers. “They’re gone.”

Evie’s mouth dropped open. “So you’re saying I’m a fae warrior?”

“You’re freaking kidding me.” That was Kyler. He’d straightened and was eyeing Evie with shock.

“Not unless you can make a fae ball yourself,” her dad replied.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Have you tried?”

“No. It didn’t even occur to me.”

“If you have the Gift for it, you simply visualize one into being.” Fane nodded at her. “Go ahead—give it a try.”

Evie looked at Jace, who gave her an encouraging squeeze.

“Try it, Evie.” That was Kyler.

With a shrug, she opened her hand and visualized a fae ball shimmering in it. But it was like when she’d tried to heal Suha’s bruise—nothing happened, except the fae light drifted across the table to settle into her palm. With a flick of her fingers, she sent it spinning into the air and tried again, jaw set, but still nothing happened.

“Take a deep breath,” Fane suggested. “Imagine it forming in your hand.”

Evie dragged in a breath and obeyed, but again, nothing happened. She didn’t even feel her hand warm like when she’d added her energy to Suha’s.

She shrugged. “So much for my career as a fae warrior.”

Fane’s long fingers touched hers. “Don’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not, really. I want to be a healer, not a warrior.” She thought of the burns on Tyrus and stifled a shudder. She never wanted to do that to anyone again.

“But,” said Fane, “maybe you inherited enough of your grandfather’s ability to use a fae light in a similar way.”

“She’s an amplifier,” Jace said. “She helped heal me.”

“Ah.” Her dad looked impressed. “That’s a Gift indeed.”

Jace released Evie to set both hands on the table. “You won’t tell the ice fae about her,” he said in a hard voice.

“Do you think they don’t already know? I reported her birth to the king. But I won’t tell him about her Gift, no.”

“Good. Because if anyone comes after my mate, I’ll rip your head off your body, Evie’s father or not.”

“Stop it, Jace!” Evie grabbed his arm and tried to give him a shake, but it was like trying to move a stone wall.

The two men ignored her. “I don’t want that any more than you do,” her father said. “She’s my daughter, after all.”

“Then swear it. I want your word that no one will learn of Evie’s Gift from you.”

“You have it.”

“The words,” Jace said between his teeth.

Fane inclined his head. “I vow before all three of you that no one will learn of Evie’s Gift from me.”

The tension went out of Jace. “Good.” He came upright again.

“But why would the ice fae come after me?” Evie asked. “It’s not like they’ve cared about me up until now.”

“It’s not just healers that can use an amplifier,” Fane said. “A warrior could use you to make more powerful fae balls, for instance.”

“And the night fae would just keep you to feed on,” said Jace.

Goosebumps popped up on Evie’s arms. She rubbed her hands over them, and instantly, Jace was behind her again, caressing her shoulders.

“That’s what Tyrus told me,” she said. “That he liked to feed on other fae.”

“He didn’t realize you were an amplifier?” Fane asked sharply.

“No.”

“Thank the gods. Whatever happens, the night fae can’t know. They won’t hesitate to feed from a mixed-blood. They lump us with the humans and fada,” he added with a twist of his lips.

“They’d have to get past me first,” Jace growled.

Her father nodded. “Perhaps it’s not a bad thing you two mated, then.”

Jace folded his arms over his chest. “I take care of the ones I love, fae. Can you say the same?”

“It’s fair that you ask, which brings me to the reason I’m here.” Fane produced a silver-and-gold pendant suspended from a leather cord and handed it to Evie.

She turned it over in her hands. It was clearly fae made—an intricately crafted cutout of a gold sun cupped by a silver half-moon.

“Fire and ice,” her dad murmured. “Sun and moon. A protection charm made by one of the best spellcasters I know. Together, the sun and moon will reflect into the eyes of anyone who might come looking for you, blinding them to your fae nature. Put it on.”

Evie’s vision blurred. “Thank you.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat and slipped it over her head.

Fane shrugged. “I’m a terrible father, but I’ll be damned if one of those night fae bastards comes after my only daughter again.”

Evie touched the pendant. It was so light she could barely feel it, and yet it hummed with power. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Think of me when you wear it—and if I were you, I’d wear it everywhere, even to bed.”

She nodded. “I will.”

Fane rose to his feet and extended a hand to Jace. “Peace to you and yours, Jace Jones.”

Jace’s eyes flashed a predatory green, and Evie knew he was wondering how Fane knew his full name. But he shook the proffered hand. “Peace to you and yours…and thanks for the charm.”

Evie stood up as well. “You don’t have to run off. I can make you lunch. I—”

“Thank you, but I should go. I’m not supposed to be here as it is.”

She felt a hint of the old hurt, but it was muted. She rose on her toes to kiss Fane’s cheek. “You’re welcome anytime.”

“I know.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You’ll be moving to Baltimore?”

“I’m not sure,” she said with a glance at Jace, who said, “For the summer at least.” He gave Fane the address.

Her father gave her a last hug and then nodded at Jace. “You’ll keep her safe.” It wasn’t a question.

“Like you care,” Kyler muttered, but Jace slung an arm around Evie’s shoulder.

“She’s my mate,” he said simply.

Fane nodded. “As for you—” He turned to Kyler, who raised his chin.

“What?”

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble someday. But you’re loyal. Evie’s lucky to have you.” He tossed something glittery into the air.

Kyler snatched it and then stared down at it, mouth ajar. “It’s another fucking diamond.” He held it up and it caught the morning sun, and for an instant, Evie was blinded. The back door opened and shut, and when she could see again, her dad was gone.

“Ice fae, huh?” Kyler touched Evie’s arm, his expression mock-serious. “You don’t feel cold.”

She knocked his hand away, and then burst out laughing. “Go soak your head, squirt.”