“Are you Winter Court?” she asked. Her hand was behind her, holding her knife.

“No. The cold doesn’t suit me.” He did smile then. If he wasn’t sin-pretty before then, the look on his face as she walked closer made him near irresistible.

She watched his eyes; storm-dark clouds were hidden there, but they weren’t warm. “You’re not Summer,” she said.

“Neither are you.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was Dark Court, but power like his didn’t hide in the crowd, and between Irial and Gabriel, she’d had plenty of education on her own court’s powers. “And you look like too much fun to be High Court.”

“Indeed.” His eyes told her what his words weren’t admitting: he was dangerous. Every instinct she had whispered that he was formed of the same sort of shadows Irial was. He should be in her king’s court.

I can’t fit in the alley in this form, Ani. Her steed’s voice was a muffled warning as she walked toward the faery.

“What are you? Gancanagh? Water fey? Help me out here. Solitary, but with enough juice to stroll through this place.” She moved her other hand closer to the knife on her side. Not that it will help much. If she was right about how strong he was—and he must be to walk in Huntsdale so carelessly confident—she wasn’t strong enough to take him. She held his gaze. “Who are you?”

“Devlin. Sorcha’s order keeper, but—”

“Fuck.” She stepped backward. “I’m not going to her world. I belong to Ir—to Niall’s Dark Court. I am protected. You can’t take me.”

Panic rose inside of her like a riot of winged things struggling to escape too-small spaces. She retreated farther, scurrying backward until a gust of sulfuric breath warmed her back. Her steed had transformed again.

I told you, her steed grumbled.

She glanced behind her. It wasn’t a horse, but a reptilian thing that stood where the Hummer had been. Green scales covered a massive body. Claws the length of her forearm dug into the ground beside her. Feathered wings folded tightly together on her steed’s back so as not to brush the buildings on either side of the alley. It parted its jaws to flick a thin black tongue.

The massive head lowered and for an instant she thought it was going to swallow her.

Don’t be foolish. I wouldn’t eat you—it paused, leaving a strange quiet in her mind that told her that it was still mid- thought—no, not even if I were starving. Curious. I’ve never had a rider until you…. I might save you before me. Huh. That’s—

“Can we talk about that later?” She looked into one enormous, swirling eye.

Of course.

The faery pulled her to him then. One arm wrapped around her waist, the other held her from hip to throat. “I could kill it,” he whispered, “or you. It’s what I do, Ani. I kill those who are out of order.”

She tugged at his wrist with her one free hand and simultaneously tried to fling her head back into his.

His hand tightened around her throat. “Stop.”

“I am one of Gabriel’s Hounds,” she rasped. “I am a member of the Dark Court, not just some random halfling. There will be consequences if you—”

“Tell the beast to step back, or I will have fewer choices. I don’t want that. Neither do you.” Devlin squeezed. “Tell it to back off, and I can release you.”

Ani looked up at her steed. Its eyes were swirling as though great storms of fire writhed inside them. Its claws had ripped furrows in the asphalt.

I’ll kill him if you are harmed. It flicked its tongue again. Drive my claws into his guts and—

“I’m not going to get hurt,” she said, far more confidently than she felt, but saying the words felt true. Had they been a lie, they wouldn’t have formed so easily. “He’s going to let me go.”

He didn’t release her, but his grip on her throat loosened until the pressure of his fingertips was hardly noticeable. “I’ll release you if…”

She tensed.

“You don’t run from me.” His words were a breath soft against her cheek. “I truly don’t wish to kill you today.”

She stayed still. “Or take me to Sorcha?”

He laughed, a delicious sound as shadow-heavy as any of the Dark Court’s own. “No, definitely not that.”

Then he relaxed his hold, letting her pull away.

Once she was several steps away from him, he held out a hand as if to shake hers. “As I said, I’m Devlin.”

She stared at his outstretched hand and then lifted her gaze to his face. Her heartbeat thrummed in time to the cacophony of fear and anger inside her. “Am I to say ‘pleased to meet you’ or some social pleasantry?”

Heart still zinging, she turned her back and walked over to her steed.

She cuddled against it. It was a smaller beast now—not much more than double the mass of its equine form—with a leonine body, reptilian head, and feathered wings. It tucked its wings close to its side and lay flat on its belly, so she could climb astride its back if she wanted.

She didn’t, but she did lean closer to it.

I’d like a name now, Ani, it murmured.

“After this,” she promised her steed without pulling her gaze from Devlin. “I live here. Your queen has no business—”

“She didn’t send me after you today.” He stood stiffly, not lounging as comfortably as he’d been before he’d restrained her. He reminded her of things she usually found beautiful: deadly power and contemplative violence.