Whatever powers Aubrey had, they clearly stemmed from plants and flowers. Entering his house was like entering a greenhouse, but without the heat and humidity. The heady fragrance climbed up my nostrils and stayed there, while Kyla itched her nose.
Last time, Aubrey had taken me upstairs to his weapon’s room. Today, he led us through the entranceway, down a short hall, and into his kitchen.
“I was just making a latte,” he said. “You’ll have one with me.”
We both nodded and took a seat at his counter. Aubrey went to work at his espresso machine, which gleamed like a new car.
A human woman stepped into the room and shook her head at him. “You have guests. Go sit in the parlor and I’ll bring the coffee to you.”
“You know I enjoy doing it myself.” Aubrey waved her away. She rolled her eyes at us and I couldn’t help but grin.
“There are fresh blueberry muffins in the pantry,” she told him. “I’ll be in the laundry room if you need me.”
I’d never known the fae to be so informal with their staff, but it somehow didn’t surprise me that Aubrey wouldn’t tolerate bowing and scraping.
Within a few minutes, Aubrey was setting a plate of muffins in front of us, and I was sipping a—frankly, incredible—latte.
“I usually prefer black,” I murmured as I took another sip. “What did you do to make this so good?”
“Magic,” Aubrey said. Kyla narrowed her eyes, and he grinned. “Just kidding.” The smile slid from his face and he leaned against the counter, raising the cup to his lips. “Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
“You haven’t heard about Samael?”
He shook his head. “I’ve been in the seelie realm on business. I returned last night.”
I put my cup down, took a deep breath, and filled him in. My voice broke when I got to the part where Samael was lying in his bed, slowly turning to ash. Kyla squeezed my hand and took over.
Aubrey’s eyes gleamed with what appeared to be genuine sympathy, and he reached across the counter and took my other hand. “That’s awful. I’ve never met Samael, but I hope he pulls through.”
Kyla delicately cleared her throat. “It’s not just Samael who’s in danger,” she said. “If he dies, Danica dies with him.”
Aubrey froze. It took him a moment, and then he shot me a furious look.
“You bonded to him? Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m going to fix it,” I gritted out.
He merely stared at me, and I rolled my shoulders. “I’m here to ask you for help.”
“Of course. I will help in any way I can.”
“Tell me what you know about the sword that killed Grendel’s mother.”
Whatever he’d expected me to say, it wasn’t that. His mouth dropped open, and I freed my hand, taking another sip of my latte.
“I don’t understand… ah. If you think to use it as bargaining power, I can assure you it won’t work.”
“And why is that?”
“The seelie king has been looking for the blade for centuries. He even used Hrunting to attempt to locate it—as you correctly guessed when you were helping us find that sword.”
“Why didn’t it work?”
Aubrey’s lush mouth twisted. “It was, as you would say, a ‘long shot.’ The swords are not actually related in any way. My king was hoping that Hrunting would have some memory of the golden sword’s imprint.”
“The golden sword?”
He shrugged. “The sword is technically nameless. But we know for sure that it has a golden hilt. According to legend, it is engraved with markings that speak of the first wars in all the worlds. They also provide a record of those for whom the sword was first made.”
