“Who are you?” I ask.
“A friend of a friend, so I’m told,” he says, which is utterly unhelpful. It works as intended. Though I’m still suspicious, I can’t shake the anxiety that Evander and Ellie sent him looking for me, and that’s why he stumbled upon me at the inn. That he has some news to relay from my friends.
My grip loosens around his neck, though not enough that I couldn’t snap it the next instant if I decided such action were necessary.
“It seems you’re in a predicament,” he says, his eyes flashing toward the two beds behind me.
“And it seems you already knew about it before you set foot in this room,” I shoot right back.
The corners of his lips bend downward like the bough of a pine carrying too much snow. There’s mockery in his frown. “We’ve already discussed this, regarding your friend Imogen. Servants talk, even after they’ve been run off from their former place of employment. Perhaps especially then.”
I eye him warily, but even I have to admit, it was likely a poor decision to force the servants to leave.
At the time, I’d been worried I might feed on them in my distress. So concerned that I hadn’t considered the consequences of sending them away. What sort of rumors they might spread.
Whose ears they might reach.
Then again, I’d expected my friends to arrive before now.
The man eyes Nox and Zora with a frank curiosity. “When do you plan to wake them?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
His green eyes sing a taunt. “Are you truly this private, or do you simply not have an answer? No plan, no idea?”
“What would you know about it?”
Speckles of light coming in from the window spatter his nose and cheeks, giving him the appearance of freckles. There’s an innocence about it that’s somewhat disarming. “Well, let’s see. I know that the servants speak of a girl who’s been kept in a slumbered state for years. I know that it seems she’s recently been joined by company. I know when I walked in, you were draped over him like you were mourning the loss of a dear husband. And I also know how to help.”
“Really?” I ask, amused enough now by this man’s arrogance that I withdraw my hand. He cracks his neck in return. “And how do you intend to do that?”
“Well, I assume there’s a reason you’ve put them to sleep. Maybe you’re just a scorned lover who realized your male had eyes for someone else.” He examines my face, tracing the shadows underneath my eyes. “No, that can’t be it. Perhaps he’s dangerous, and you thought to put him to sleep until he can be tamed.”
He must see the truth flash across my face, because he gives me a smug grin.
I withdraw a few paces, crossing my arms. “Nox isn’t the one I’m worried about. He’s possessed with something, someone else.” Sharp surprise punctures my lungs at the vulnerability I allow to slip.
“I’ve been told I have a trustworthy demeanor,” he says, as if reading my mind.
“Yes, I imagine it’ll be difficult to share my secrets once I’ve eaten you,” I say, flashing him a grin.
Again, he doesn’t look as unsettled as I might have hoped.
There’s something about being the predator stalking the prey, only to have the prey smile back at you, that has you wondering what the prey knows that you don’t.
“So how do you intend to free him from whatever’s possessing him?” he asks casually, as if he’s inquiring about my decorating plans.
I sigh. “Lazarus’s Comet.”
He arches a brow. “That doesn’t come around for another century or two.”
“Too bad you won’t be around to see it,” I seethe.
“Hmm,” he says, and I can’t explain why, but when he moves to go past me and toward Nox, I let him.
“And if there was another way?”
“Then I’d be all ears.” It comes out trite, but it’s about as honest and raw as I could be.
When the man reaches for Nox, I tense, and he wisely withdraws his hand to his chest. “Have you ever heard the stories of how the fae first came to this realm?”
I figure it best not to tell him that the being inhabiting the body lying in front of him is the beginning of that story. “Haven’t we all?” Truthful enough.
“And what of the stories about how the fae first consumed the Old Magic?”
Again, I find it prudent not to divulge all that I know. “Isn’t that lost to history?” I ask, and his sage green eyes twinkle.
“Not if you know someone who was once there.”
I let out a huff. “Most of the fae who originally crossed over into our realm were slaughtered. They didn’t exactly endear themselves to the people.”
Colored lights twinkle like stars across his skin. “But not all the Old Magic was consumed. What if someone escaped?”
I narrow my eyes, even as he tramples too close to the truth.
“What if I tell you a secret?” he asks.
“What if you do?”
