“No, you’re not. You were, but your purpose has changed.” Seth closed Boomer’s terrarium.

“You will not leave again,” Devlin snarled. The urge to wrap his hand around Seth’s throat was pressing, but violence was illogical at that point. I am High Court. He shoved those temptations back into the recesses of his mind.

Seth smiled placidly and walked over to the clothes. Without any visible indication that there was ill will between them, he set aside the ones on top and carried the rest to the table. “There’s hot water by now.”

“You will not leave the house while I bathe.”

“Correct.” Seth opened the satchel he had dropped on the table in his tiny kitchen and shoved the clothes into the bag. “I went out for a few supplies while you were sleeping. They’re in here too.”

“Supplies?”

“Your trip. You’ll be leaving sooner than I expected. Things change.” Seth turned away, but not before Devlin saw the flash of worry on his face.

Chapter 12

Ani pushed the covers off and stretched. She was even less rested than when she’d arrived at Irial’s. The house was silent as she went downstairs. At the door to the parlor, she paused. Inside, she heard the low murmur of voices. She felt the tangled threads of longing and disgust—and left.

She stood on the top step, with the gargoyle knocker sleeping behind her, and faltered. A Ly Erg was standing in the street.

“Where do you go?” he asked.

“Not with you.” Shivering despite the midday sun, Ani turned the opposite direction from the Ly Erg.

The red-palmed faeries worked to support whatever machinations Bananach devised—to the point of regularly threatening mutiny in the Dark Court. It was inevitable: they were warriors, and any excuse to create true war pleased them. Not the faeries for me. Even if she had her doubts about the new Dark King, Ani had too much loyalty to Irial to support plots against the king he’d chosen for their court.

She went walking down the first shadowed alley; her court typically waited in such places. Instead of the faeries she found reassuring, another Ly Erg stood watching her. She turned down another and yet another alley until she was in what many deemed the least attractive part of the city. Oil and chemicals rolled through the puddles of brown water that collected in the dips and holes in the asphalt. The world was reflected back to her there—a bit less bright, a touch less sharply defined. To Ani, it was beautiful. Like her own court, the dark water could seem to make things ugly if a person didn’t look closely, but she’d been born out of those shadows: she saw the beauty where some saw only grime.

Of course, not everything wrought of darkness was lovely, any more than everything in the light was. That truth was frighteningly clear as Bananach appeared. She stood in front of Ani like she’d stepped into existence, darkness given form in between an inhalation and a scream. The Ly Ergs had steered Ani toward her.

“Girl. Gabriel’s child.” The raven-faery tilted her head expectantly. “I require you. Come.”

One of the Ly Ergs from earlier was standing behind Bananach.

Ani swallowed a cry of fear. Few faeries frightened her, but the raven-haired warrior did. Talons and beak, ashes and blood, Bananach unsettled the Dark King himself. The growing unease and mistrust between the faery courts had strengthened her enough that she could stand against even the strongest faeries.

“Lady War directs you to follow.” The Ly Erg gestured. “Do you resist?”

The hopeful look on his face made clear to Ani that resisting wasn’t likely to be a successful option. “No.”

“Good pup,” Bananach said.

Neither the raven-faery nor the Ly Erg spoke another word as they walked toward a building that looked as if it hadn’t been inhabited during Ani’s lifetime. The windows were painted black with iron fencing stretched over them like hurricane shutters. They weren’t but a dozen blocks from Niall’s house. Would she kill me on his step? The answer to that was, like all things with Bananach, impossible for Ani to fathom. War was both capricious and bold by nature.

Bananach pried back the metal and gestured Ani inside.

Ani’s heart thundered so that she could feel it under her skin. What she couldn’t feel was any emotion from Bananach. That’s no good. Before she would cross the threshold, Ani asked, “Am I guest or prisoner?”

“Maybe.” Bananach gave Ani an inscrutable look and motioned toward the window. “Go now before my soldiers’ security is compromised.”

The Ly Erg turned away, presumably to return to his post, and Ani crawled through the window and into a room that looked like it belonged in a medieval warlord’s castle. Swords and other sharp-edged weapons were being forged; others were being repaired. Yet as soon as Ani had started to process the odd anachronism of the inhabitants’ activities, she caught sight of the curious contrast on the facing side of the room. Computer monitors and work stations sat on vast wooden tables. Ani stared at them.

“You are not part of the Hunt. You are not truly part of their court.” Bananach’s dark eyes were familiar enough to seem comforting even as her words were insulting.

“I am.” Ani tilted her chin up. “Our king—”

“Your king. Not mine. I want no king.”

“You made an oath,” Ani whispered.

“I did. It’s why Niall hasn’t died at my hand. Why Irial has lived so long.” Bananach looked beyond Ani to stare into emptiness. “Will he come for you, Gabriel’s Daughter? Would he save you from my talons?”