“I don’t owe you an explanation, and I don’t particularly feel the need to tell you, either, Bortia,” I stated quietly, lying. I did owe the Fae an explanation. So I went with another lie to move him further away from the first one. “But I am the most powerful of the two of us. Why have you tracked me down?”
King Athon’s claws twitched, but he did not look back.
Bortia smiled with satisfaction. “I want to know if you recovered your first artifact. We recovered ours, so I’d like to know how this realm is faring.”
I breathed evenly, not showing emotion. I was an elf, a swindler. I could handle this. This gremlin was not to be trusted, but he had information I wanted—like,whywere the Fae searching for artifacts, too. “No, we failed. But I blame it on the damned gorgon. How did you manage to find yours?”
“The King and Queen kept their mouths shut the entire time.” Bortia’s gaunt shoulders bounced as he laughed hard, showing his sharp, nasty teeth. “If they hadn’t done that, ours would have been a disaster, too.”
I pouted prettily, weaving a beautiful tale. “I may have to gag the gorgon next time. I don’t like to fail.”
Bortia wiggled his fingers in the air. “A little bit of pixie dust will do the trick.”
I pointed at him and nodded grandly. “That does make sense.”
No, it didn’t. I had never seen a pixie in my life. But I now knew they were dangerous—grand information to have.
“Do you know when your next quest begins?” Bortia wiggled his red cap on his head, readjusting it to the exact place it was before.
“In six days’ time,” I said wearily. “What about the Fae?”
“Tomorrow.” Bortia squinted closely at my chest. “There is something off about your Fae-spark. Come closer.”
Fae dammit all.
I had not been able to obtain the information I wanted.
“I think not,” I stated primly, lifting my chin. Stick with the truth. “I already saw you ogling my chest. I won’t show it again.”
Bortia’s lips curved up at the edges, and he wiggled his eyebrows. “I only looked a little.”
Was that supposed to be his amorous look?
I shuddered hard. Gremlins were hideous.
He narrowed his blue eyes on my chest again. “I am sure there is something off with your Fae-spark. Do you have a soul mate? It appears like there is an imbalance there. It’s not lining up.”
I sighed mentally. This dark Fey needed to die.
There would be no capturing this one for questioning.
I patted at my chest, muttering in frantic worry, “I do have a soul mate! Is there something wrong with him?”
Of course, there was. He was a fucking shifter.
“No, it is nothing like that.” Bortia cocked his head, analyzing whatever he saw in my chest. “The soul mating is correct, you’re both fine, but there is an imbalance in it. There is a…difference.” His head tilted again in thought.
The moment he knew, it was wholly obvious.
His blue eyes blinked very slowly.
The gremlin may be powerful, but he was still within reaching distance of a shifter’s claws now—King Athon having hunted silently, and closer, while the gremlin and I talked.
His blue eyes widened and darted to the King of Shifters. “Oh, it all makes sense now,” Bortia mumbled in shock. “I will need to report this to my king. Youknowit is against Fae law—”
And…his head flew across the room.
Fortunately, the blood splatter also went with it.
