Not that I thought this neighborhood was dangerous, or that House Tellier wizards would do something to them. But the random fae visitor didn’t sit right with me, and who knew what otherassociatesof theirs would do if they stumbled on the women?
Iris Delphini’s missing person report bounced around in my brain as I did my best to present a calm smile. Then, I stepped forward to stand side by side with Considine.
“There are some wizard Houses in this neighborhood,” I confirmed. “However, you shouldn’t try to look for them at night. You can see more magic during the day. Plus, wizard Houses don’t like such late-night visitors.”
It was only a partial fib.
Wizard Houses were a weird combination of sentience and magic, which even with my slayer training I couldn’t explain. (Only wizards understood the connection, and they couldn’t seem to communicate it with others. I don’t think it was a political move so much as it was something that went beyond words’ ability to explain.)
While a House wouldn’t care if it got gawked at, most of them were bound to be upset if the women stood on the sidewalk and shouted and/or touched its borders and fences, their usual discernment softened by the effects going twenty-four hours without sleep.
If the pair sought out Houses in the day, they’d likely mind their manners, and the Houses wouldn’t feel the need to correct them. (A correction could be something as mild as getting your shins smacked with a board from the fence to something more drastic. I’d heard of a slayer who’d gotten swallowed whole by a sinkhole in the lawn, wrapped in barbed wire, and then ejected from the house like a cat hacking up a hairball and tossed intothe street. Then again, that slayer had gone into the House intending to kill a wizard, so the punishment fit the crime.)
“Oh.” Sherry whipped her head to look at her sister, almost knocking her alpaca hat askew. “I don’t want to make a House mad…”
“You really don’t.” Considine’s voice was soothing, like a parent’s. “Why don’t you give us your cousin’s address? Our volunteer wouldloveto escort you home!” Considine beamed from ear to ear.
When I glanced at Orrin, he frowned, then rolled his shoulders back and put on a neutral expression. “An honor,” he said. “Where can we take you?”
“Oh. I wrote down the address when my phone was dying…here.” Jess took off her glove and pulled out a wrinkled scrap of paper.
Orrin stared at the address. “I believe that location is about three blocks down. This way.”
The women hurried after Orrin. Sherry elbowed her sister. “He’s cuter than Ryan,” she pointed out.
“Quiet,” Jess hissed. “This has been the most embarrassing day of my life. Donotmake it worse!”
I followed them, shivering when a chilly breeze smacked me and flung one of my short curls that had escaped the containment of my knit cap into my face.
Considine seemingly happened to keep pace with me and stay in the back, but I was pretty sure it was by design.
Sherry turned around to peer back at us and giggled. “This is so kind of you!”
“Mypartnerand I are happy to help.” Considine’s voice was so sunny, it raised my proverbial hackles. “But if you’re going to thank someone, it should be Orrin. Since he’s the gallant fae knight guiding you home. Wouldn’t youloveto be thanked, Orrin?”
Orrin, bound by the fae compulsion to speak only the truth, mutely turned around so he could scowl at Considine.
Sherry must have heard the emphasis Considine put on the word partner, because she looked crestfallen for a moment, then took another look at Orrin. “You know, Jess. Just because you’re too smitten to admire them doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Considine laughed, then reached toward me and tucked my wayward red curl back under my cap so it wouldn’t whip me in the face anymore.
It wasn’t that unusual—he’d touched my hair before as Connor.
But rather than immediately move away as he usually would have, his touch lingered. His thumb caressed my cheek before he slid his fingers under my chin.
His expression was different, too. There was no smile, no hint of his typical high spirits. Instead, there was a desperate intensity to the way he clenched his jaw, and his chest was still, as if he was holding his breath.
Conner and Ruin weren’t masks he put on to hide, I realized, my ears ringing.They were smaller, filtered versions of himself he used to fulfill specific roles. And the scary thing is, I was starting to catch feelings for Connor…
I wasn’t there yet with Considine. I trusted him, but our history was still sticky.
I could admit, however, that I’d been avoiding addressing hisfancyingme because I thought it wouldn’t affect me emotionally and the problem would just…go away.
It wasn’t going to.
Considine—whose very presence was so consuming he could knock me out of work mode by tucking my hair behind my ear—was playing for keeps.
I was afraid the moment would last forever, but Considine must have sensed I was at the limits of my coping skills.
