“The fuck are you doing here?” they ask.
“Grant said you called.”
Their expression softens slightly at the mention of Grant, hardening again as they take me in. “The Hunt doesn’t help the fae.”
“I’m not—We’re not—” I shake my head, looking around. “What happened?”
“What happened,” Spectra says, appearing behind Sparrow and pushing them gently aside, “is that a high fae attacked us.”
She’s dressed down compared to the other night, wearing dark jeans and a hoodie. Her hair is pulled back out of her face, shadows under her dark eyes.
“Who?” I ask, though I have the sinking feeling I already know. “Why?”
“I’d love the answer to both those questions, myself,” Spectra says. She squeezes Sparrow’s arm as she moves past them. “We lost a lot of fae.”
“Killed, or…?”
“Killed.”
Sparrow shakes their head. “Some were taken.”
“Taken?”
“I didn’t see,” Spectra says. “I was trying to maintain the wards. I didn’t want the magic to spill out.”
“Who did they take?”
Sparrow shrugs. “A couple of newbies. Both glaistigs, but I don’t know their names. A banshee, Clara. And Reijo. Selkie.”
Reijo. I frown. Is that why the high fae came here? I’m pretty sure he’s working with Sehild, the selkie who lured me away from Njáll. Reijo’s cousin. Do the other fae know something, too?
“Do you two have anywhere safe to go?” I ask.
Sparrow’s gaze is still distrustful, and Spectra looks at me with surprise. “Here,” she says. “We only have here.”
“What if he comes back?”
“He won’t,” Spectra says, but she doesn’t sound certain. Maybe he got the fae he needs, sure, but Spectra might be a threat to him, even if she’s not high fae herself. “He won’t.”
“What does it matter?” Sparrow asks. “The Wild Hunt don’t help fae.”
But maybe we should. That’s what I’ve been thinking, isn’t it? I lean back against the wall and mull it over. Moving them from the city is a bit much—I don’t know how long they’ll have to stayaway from this place. But where can they stay here? The Council will be no help, and I don’t know them well. Njáll might let them stay with the clan, but there’s every chance the high fae is after him anyway, for whatever reason, so that might not be safer.
Same goes for Deacon, but—Well. There’s one place they could go.
I look at them both and hold out my hands placatingly. “So, quick question. How do you feel about wolves?”
Asher replies to my text with nothing more than an address. No commentary, no follow-up, and I honestly doubt he’ll have questions when our paths cross again.
It’s the one thing I like about him, really.
The phone says I have missed calls, too, but I don’t bother struggling with the notification. This is more important.
Spectra and Sparrow wear equal expressions of distrust as we stand on the street in front of Alpha Kieran’s pack house. Well, it’s a block of flats, kind of grey and boring looking from the outside, but I feel the buzz of their wards, though it’s—
The front door slams open and the mage—Sam—comes striding out, magic crackling around him. Oh, he might give me a run for my money, but Spectra squares her shoulders next to me, angling her body so she’s between him and Sparrow.
“We need some help,” I call because I don’t much fancy the idea of getting in the middle of this, and yet I think I’ll be expected to.
