It led me to think Niamh had been responsible for suppressing their power in some way. It was the only explanation I could think of.
"Thanks, but I'll pass," I said, sensing I needed to handle this carefully.
Their heads cocked, the movement identical. It was creepy, as if they shared one mind but two bodies.
"Aileen, we’re falling behind," Connor said in a neutral voice from where he stood at the edge of the forest, Anton beside him.
I slipped from between the twins, the butterfly leading the way.
"You've gotten bold now that you're no longer Niamh's play thing," Baran told Connor. "It will be interesting to see what you become."
Connor's jaw tightened, the only sign the twin's comment had landed.
Anton looked coldly arrogant as the twins fell into step beside me. He dropped back, bringing up the rear.
The twins ignored him, one playing with the ends of my hair as the other paced beside us.
"You smell so interesting. I haven't smelled anything like you in an era," the one preoccupied with my hair said.
Baran looked over. "What does she smell like, twin?"
Breandan leaned forward and inhaled, letting out a small sound of pleasure. "Like a memory. Something intangible and easily forgotten. It makes me want to roll in the scent, consume it, and wear it on my flesh so I'll never forget again."
Connor stopped, looking like he was going to yank me out of the first twin's arms. Anton's anger hit my back and I sensed the situation devolving. I shook my head at both of them.
Something told me this was a test of sorts. Failing would not be good. Not to mention, I wouldn't learn anything about the Scattered.
With a wry twist of my lips, I put a finger on Breandan’s forehead and pushed his face away.
"Very vivid description. You should be a poet," I said.
"He was—once." There was a haunted expression on Baran’s face. Breandan pulled away from me, going to console his brother.
Together, they stared at me with a dark possession.
Anton cursed silently, already preparing for the fight we could feel brewing in the air.
The butterfly’s wings moved faster as if sensing the turbulence.
From the trees, Jerry rumbled, "Aileen, I've been waiting for you."
The twins' attention shifted as they took in the newcomer.
Taller than most men, Jerry had left off his human guise for the night. I could still see my former boss in his features and the way he carried himself. He was simply more this way. Wilder. Darker. A little uncivilized.
His hair was unkempt, and he had the sort of face you wouldn't want to encounter in a back alley. Brutish and harsh to match his thick chest, and arms the size of tree trunks.
Jerry sent a chiding look at our escorts. "Twins, Aileen isn't for your games."
"Come, twin, we shall retreat for now. The fallen knight wishes to play hero." Baran sauntered into the darkness.
Breandan swept me a courtly bow. "Until next time, lady."
I let out the breath I was holding as the trees swallowed the twins. I wasn't the only one.
"Cursed Fae," Anton muttered, sounding angry.
"Come," Jerry said, tilting his head in the direction of the rest.
