Wade let Riordan drag him to the front door, where a threshold of significant power hummed in his ears. The two fae guards stepped across it easily, but Riordan stayed on the porch, waiting for permission to enter another fae’s territory. Wade didn’t need any, so he followed the fae inside, earning himself double-takes from each of them.
It also resulted in the pair of them pulling a pair of swords out of thin air to hold them threateningly in his direction. Wade perked up. “Are those magic swords?”
“How did you cross the threshold?” one of the fae demanded.
Wade gave her his most innocent look. “What threshold?”
“I will take hospitality,” Riordan said from the porch, still not having entered the home. “Wade will too.”
“Sure thing. I hope you’re offering chocolate,” Wade said. Hospitality was just a way for him to get a couple of bites to eat. Most people offered bread. Most people wouldn’t take an offering from the fae if they were smart, but Wade was starting to get hungry again.
The fae didn’t put their swords away. Neither did they offer up hospitality. Behind them, another fae walked down the hallway to meet them, dressed like he was on his way to a black-tie event, if fae even had those. Daffodil-yellow hair fell down to his waist, and the fae’s eyes were citrine in color, with no warmth to them. He was taller than Wade, broader too, and wore slim-cut dress pants, an actual morning tail suit jacket, a ruffled scarf-type accessory that looked like something Wade had seen in a historical portrait in a museum once, and way too much gold jewelry.
“Who are you?” the new fae asked, staring down his nose at Wade.
“He’s here under my protection, Tadgh,” Riordan said, hovering in the doorway but still not yet having crossed the threshold. Wade doubted it had anything to do with the kind of power that would keep a vampire out and more about deference to a higher-ranked fae.
“I thought you were under mine?” Wade asked. He waggled his fingers in the face of Riordan’s glare. “I need to speak to Lady Caith.”
“The Lady of Wind and Sky has a schedule. You are not written in it,” Tadgh said.
“So write me in.” Wade pointed at the bowl of fruit definitely not from any nearby farms sitting next to a pitcher of what smelled like mead. “The quicker you let me take hospitality, the quicker you’ll get rid of me.”
“He’s dangerous,” one of the fae guards said in their language, Wade’s head easily translating it. “And he is not human, no matter his appearance.”
Tadgh looked at Wade and immediately frowned. “We did not offer you that.”
Wade bit into the juicy not-apple-pear-peach fruit he’d taken from the bowl and crunched his way through a bite. “You didn’t? It was sitting right there. I thought it was up for grabs.”
Tadgh took a step forward, and Wade slowly crunched his way through another bite. The fae’s disdain was pretty clear to see, but if he thought his better-than-everyone attitude was going to get Wade to toe the line, then clearly he was dumb as a brick.
Wade took another bite, wondering if Órlaith had any of these fruits she’d be willing to send him. They were really good. “Let me talk to Lady Caith, and then I’ll be on my way.”
“No,” Tadgh said. “Whatever problems the kin have, they aren’t ours to fix.”
“I’m not asking you to,” Riordan said. He seemed to get over being polite and entered the home, coming to stand by Wade. “I promised to show Wade around town.”
“Our lady’s home is not a tourist attraction.”
“I’ve seen better homes,” Wade said. The insulted looks tossed his way by the two fae who’d led them there made him snicker. “Look, the faster we get through hospitality and I meet with your lady, the quicker I’ll be out of your way. What aren’t you getting about that?”
Tadgh pointed at the door. “You can leave now.”
Wade bit at the core of the fruit, the pit there catching his teeth. He bit down on the stone, shattering it, and swallowed the bits that fractured off. Wade blinked, then blinked again, letting his pupils change shape for half a second. “One of yours is taking people and enslaving them, and I don’t like that.”
Tadgh’s finger wavered, dipped, his hand falling back to his side as he stared at Wade. The disdain left his face, replaced with a wariness that proved maybe the stuck-up asshole wasn’t as dumb as his silly little outfit made him look. “What are you?”
“You know, my dire keeps telling me that’s a rude question to ask.”
“Ella has better manners than you.”
“Ooh, good try. Still not my dire.” Wade ate the last half of the fruit’s core, crunching through the stone. “That would be Sage Taylor, of the New York City god pack.”
The way the fae went preternaturally still was almost funny to watch. Beside him, Riordan tensed, as if he was going to throw himself between Wade and the others if they attacked, which was awfully sweet of him. Stupid but sweet.
After a moment, Tadgh approached the credenza and poured two glasses of mead, of which he handed one to Wade and one to Riordan. Then he grabbed some berries bunched like grapes but which looked like raspberries if they were bright blue and picked off a few to hand to Riordan. “Both of you be welcome.”
Wade tossed back the mead—not as good as Thor’s—and stole one of the berries out of Riordan’s hand. Riordan sighed at him. “You literally ate your way through almost two dozen cannoli not even half an hour ago.”
