Anton hesitated, dipping his head in acknowledgment. I had no doubt the enforcer would keep an eye on his friend.
It was one of the things I liked best about Liam's enforcers. They were unmitigated bastards to outsiders, but once you'd earned your place among them, there were few more loyal.
They were a unit in every sense of the word.
"I didn't think you were the type to associate with the pointy eared bastards," a sour voice observed.
I controlled my jump at finding the sorcerer standing next to me, the straw of a blue icee held to his lips as he glared at the forest.
His appearance had changed since the last time I met him. No longer did he look in his late teens. His features were more mature and there was a hint of a beard clinging to his jaw and chin, making him look closer to thirty. His expression was gruff and distrusting.
"Peter, what're you doing here?"
The sorcerer and I had a complicated history that involved extreme dislike and forced servitude. In short, I held his mark and he pretty much hated me.
"Stuff."
Very detailed.
"Have fun with that." I was already walking away.
"I could turn you into a frog, you know," he remarked. "Some people would take that as a reason to treat me with respect."
I smirked at him. "You've gotten braver if you're willing to risk Liam's wrath."
Peter barely hid his flinch, his gaze darting around as if looking for Liam. "He's not around, is he?"
I tilted my head toward the barrow and smiled.
Trepidation filled his expression, but to my surprise he stayed put.
"You really have gotten braver," I observed.
"I have business with the Fae." He lifted a finger that had a string tied to it, a butterfly on the other end.
“Why is your butterfly on a string?”
“I didn’t want it touching me,” he said as if that explained everything. He shoved past me, moving into the forest. "Don't get in my way this time, Aileen."
As if I cared enough about whatever business he had in the barrow to do anything of the sort.
"We could kill him for you," a silken pair of voices offered from either side of me. "No one would have to know."
I stiffened, suddenly conscious of the danger I was in and how far I'd gotten from the others.
Unwise, Aileen. And sloppy.
The twins regarded me with faintly predatory expressions. Baran and Breandan looked like they'd stepped out of a painting made by a mad, whimsical artist. Tall with athletic builds, there was grace and power in their movements as they circled me. Their bodies brushed mine, their magic squeezing the air between us, making it hard to breath.
Their coloring was similar to Arlan's, with eyes the color of tree sap and hair that matched the splendor of trees in fall.
"It would be so easy," Baran whispered.
Breandan leaned forward. "We would be happy to do it."
Their smiles were pretty, but that didn't take away the edge of darkness I could see. If anything, it amplified it.
Like Arlan, they were more powerful than the first time I'd seen them.
