We stepped into the house, me slightly behind Moira. The vampire stopped abruptly, and I bumped into her back with anoof.
“My gods,” Moira murmured.
I peeked over her shoulder and was stunned into silence. All I could do was stand there for a long moment gawking before I leaned away and poked my head outside, my gaze taking in the dimension of the porch which wrapped around the house.
Then I leaned back inside and shook my head. “Fae magic,” I said quietly.
“Powerful fae magic,” she agreed.
Who or what had come through that portal? I shut the door behind us with a soft click. The music pounding from outside wasn’t the same as inside. This music was softer, sultrier, holding a hypnotic beat that made me want to sway my hips.
And wasn’t that curious?
Moira found my hand and squeezed. “Glamour magic,” she hissed. “Be careful.”
She didn’t let go, and I didn’t protest. A press of bodies surrounded us, most unbothered by our presence, others who didn’t even notice we were there.
Some had their eyes closed and danced in place, their mouths open in ecstasy. Whatever was happening to them disturbed me on a cellular level.
I might be a fae, but I hated glamour magic. Such power could make you feel anything. Horror or excitement, pleasure or pain, it didn’t matter. You could walk through a living dream and become a king or queen, a tyrant or a savior. Rich or poor, a movie star or a pauper, anything was possible.
I only wanted to be myself, Evie. Nothing else. As far-fetched as it sounded, after my ride in the World Tree, I’d stopped wanting anything other than what was best for me. My friends and family loved me, and I loved them. Those were what mademe rich, not gold coins spilling into my palms from a trickster’s hands.
Unfortunately, my father had all but stopped our training sessions lately, perhaps to punish me for being difficult, as he liked to say. I knew some of what I could do, but most of it pertained to the natural world, nothing that could help me if I let the magic sweep me under.
We walked through the press of bodies, some human, some fae, a shifter here and there which would make Caelan extremely unhappy if he found out about it, and some tinges of unfamiliar magic—neither fae nor shifter nor witch or water creature.
My gaze swept the room, looking for anything I could focus on.
“There,” I said quietly, pulling Moira toward a familiar muscular figure dressed in familiar armor.
Neit’s eyes widened when he spotted me. He stepped forward, pulling Moira and I into a dark corner.
“What are you doing here?” he hissed.
Like most fae, Neit was a stone-cold fox, but his face held more character than the unearthly, almost unreal beauty much of the other fae possessed. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed, though those eyes burned with cold violet power.
Moira pressed in closer, her body almost smashed against mine. She looked around the room with a furrowed brow, and I got the impression she liked it here less than I did.
“We’re searching for Tess. She disappeared when our new guest popped in for a visit.”
Neit’s eyes narrowed. The god of war wasn’t a friend, exactly, but he was Mom’s ex-boyfriend or current boyfriend or…something, so he’d not exactly intervened for me before, but he had shown up and helped as much as he could on occasion. It didn’t mean I trusted him, but he was familiar and he’d neveractively tried to murder me. Right now, Neit was the most trustworthy thing in this room.
“Let me guess. Did you two have anything to do with this new guest who decided to visit?”
Moira looked at her feet. Neit’s long suffering sigh almost made me laugh, but I stifled my amusement.
He let out a string of blistering curses. “Do you know who you’ve let in?” he hissed, scraping a palm over his five o’clock shadow.
“Someone not good, I presume?” I gave him a hopeful smile.
Neit closed his eyes and sighed. “What did he tell you?”
“He said his name was Lou.” I shrugged. “That was pretty much it, as far as identity wise. He said this was his first visit and he wanted to explore the town before he went home.”
“Lou,” Neit said, staring at me like I’d sprouted a third eye. “And are you familiar with Lou?”
Moira shook her head. “It’s an odd name for a fae. You don’t often find fae with Italian names like that.”
