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  “I am a master of glamour. If it is easier on you, I can look like this.” In the space of a heartbeat, his dark hair lightened, the angles of his face changed, and no longer was a handsome stranger standing in front of me, but now an even more handsome—and intimately familiar—figure.

  I gawked at the prince, who now looked exactly like Falin. A mix of fury and sick surprise surged through me. Fury that he—or really, they—thought they could manipulate me so easily, but also shock that an obviously proud fae would submit to taking the likeness of another man to entice a girl to his bed. What could my father possibly offer as a reward to be worth that? As was often the case when my father was involved, I felt like I lacked several key pieces to even begin to guess the shape of this particular puzzle.

  Still, before this stunt my answer was a resounding no. Now? Yeah, now it was a hell no, not ever, not even if I was as immortal as they claimed.

  “I have to get back to work,” I said, turning from the group and heading for the door.

  “Alexis, you still have to join a court.” While my father’s voice didn’t exactly sound smug, it did sound as if regardless of what I did, he was confident the ultimate outcome would be of his preference.

  “Yeah, I’ll work on that. But it’s not happening today.” I reached the doorway and stepped through, back into mortal reality. Leaving the pocket of Faerie hit me harder than I expected as the exhaustion that had vanished while I was inside once again crushed me as soon as I left. I almost stumbled under the weight of it, but I didn’t and after a moment I turned back toward the door and called out, “Are you giving me a ride back to my office, or do I need to call a cab?”

  Chapter 6

  My father did give me a ride, though neither of us spoke during the trip. As I slid out of the car in front of my office, he leaned across the seat.

  “Be very careful, Alexis. My spell no longer binds you to Faerie. You do not have much time before you fade from this life. The shadow court is a good choice for you, at least for now. Come to me when you are ready to accept it.”

  “Right,” I said, and slammed the door. While I had no intention of marrying Dugan, I also wasn’t going to doom Rianna, Ms. B, or the little elusive garden gnome. If I couldn’t find a ruler to grant me independent status, I’d have to join a court. I didn’t think it would be shadow, but that might be a slightly preferable choice to winter.

  With my thoughts ruminating on everything that had happened in the last two hours, I stuck my key in the lock, but it didn’t turn over. I frowned and pulled open the already unlocked door. Did Rianna come in after all?

  I got my answer quickly enough.

  Leaning on the reception desk was one familiar blond-haired fae. After everything that had happened, I double-checked to make sure his appearance didn’t change when I cracked my shields. Nope, no more glamour than he normally wore to tame down his Sleagh Maith traits. It really was Falin.

  “I could have sworn I locked that door,” I said, jerking my head toward the aforementioned door.

  He gave me a half shrug. “I got tired of waiting outside.”

  Right. So he broke into Tongues for the Dead. Honestly though, with everything else going on, this fact didn’t seem important enough to bother with, so I let it drop.

  “Do you need something?” Because aside from the unavoidable interaction of living in my room, he’d done his best over the last two weeks to avoid me.

  Falin nodded, but didn’t answer immediately. Finally he pushed off the desk. “We have to go. You’ve been summoned by the queen.”

  • • •

  The first time the Winter Queen had summoned me to Faerie, the FIB had issued an arrest warrant and Falin had attempted to hide me. This time, he’d accept no argument: I’d been summoned to Faerie and as a fae living inside winter court boundaries, I was going. He did permit a small detour, which was good with me—anything to prolong the time before appearing at court—except the reason we stopped was so I could find something more appropriate to wear.

  Falin frowned at the slacks I held, shaking his head. “In all likelihood, if you show up to court in pants, the queen will change them into a gown.”

  Great. There was exactly one dress in my closet. My bridesmaid dress for Tamara’s wedding. And I had no intention of wearing that monstrosity before the event Sunday because if I ruined it, I didn’t have time to have another tailored.

  But I didn’t doubt him about the queen. The first time I’d gone to Faerie I’d lost one of my favorite outfits when the queen glamoured it into a ridiculous ball gown and Faerie had accepted the transformation as true.

  Speaking of that gown . . .

  I hurried to my linen closet and pulled out the boxes on the bottom shelf. The gown had been shoved unceremoniously in a bag in the back, complete with layers of petticoats and small ice flowers that had never melted. It was rather worse for the wear from the storage, and I shook it, trying to release the wrinkles.

  “I can wear this,” I said, holding up the dress.

  Falin grimaced at its condition. I couldn’t blame him, now that I really looked at it, the dress was in worse shape than just wrinkles. It had survived a hard night the only time I’d worn it, including a trip to the realm of dreams where I’d been carried off by dozens of clawed, scaled, and otherwise monstrous nightmares.

  Okay, yeah, the dress wasn’t at its best, but at least I wouldn’t lose another outfit. With that thought in mind, I excused myself to the bathroom and changed.

  Falin looked less than convinced when I emerged. I couldn’t blame him. The gown was ratty and I felt rather like a child playing dress-up in the thing. To make matters worse, I didn’t own any dress shoes. I needed to buy a pair of heels before Tam’s wedding, but shopping for a pair hadn’t made it to the top of my to-do list yet. Thankfully the gown hit the ground, so my boots wouldn’t be immediately obvious under it.

  Crossing the small room, I sat on the bed and strapped my dagger into place. The semicognizant blade crooned in my hand. It responded to my nervousness with a type of excitement that betrayed how badly it wanted to be drawn, used. A disturbing sensation, but it was a good dagger, fae-wrought with enchantments that let it cut through almost anything. Its ever-fight-ready eagerness had scared me off from carrying it for years, but now I never left the house without it—I’d needed it too many times over the last few months.

  Of course, if I needed it today, it was going to be a bitch to draw. I’d wrestled the dagger from under this gown before, and there just wasn’t an elegant—or more important, fast—way to hike up the multiple layers of tulle to reach the holster. But it wasn’t like I could walk into the winter court with a blade strapped to my waist.

  “Try this one,” Falin said, holding out what looked like a larger version of my boot holster.

  I took it from him and examined it. “A thigh holster? I doubt that will be easier.”

  “It is when you’re wearing a gown like that,” he said. I had my doubts, which he clearly read in my expression because after a moment he continued. “You’ll have to make a small modification. You need to . . .” He trailed off, gesturing at the full skirt. Then he sighed. “I can show you,” he said, but the words seemed to pain him.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped forward, and forward, right into my personal bubble. In the last few weeks we’d barely spoken—his choice as much as mine—and he hadn’t come within an arm’s length of me. In fact, the last time he’d been this close, he’d kissed me, told me he loved me, and then pulled his knives on me and told me to stay far, far away from him.

  I’d listened, and I would have stumbled out of reach now, except I was blocked in by the edge of the bed. I considered throwing myself back and trying to somersault over the bed. It was the kind of thing an action hero would do, probably drawing her weapon in the same move and having it locked on her target by the time she straig
htened. Me? I’d likely tangle myself in the huge gown and end up in a helpless pile. So I held my ground. Besides, Falin was clearly trying his hardest to look nonthreatening.

  He knelt in front of me, lifting the edge of the gown and gathering it up, over my calf, my knees, up to my thigh.

  “Uh, Falin, what are you . . . ?”

  Without a word he picked up the thigh holster I didn’t remember dropping and slipped it around the exposed skin of my right thigh. His fingers moved with absolute efficiency, not lingering or caressing, but regardless, heat still rose to my cheeks as his gloved hands worked over my thigh. He pulled the dagger and hilt from where they were mostly concealed in my boot and slid them into the new thigh holster and then checked that the straps were secure. I stared at the ceiling, reminding myself that there was nothing—could never be anything—between Falin and me. Besides, I had a boyfriend.

  A boyfriend whose being with me was a death sentence to him and who I couldn’t contact. Hell, I didn’t even know his real name, but he was my oldest friend and I cared about him. And at least he wasn’t likely to betray me at word one from the Winter Queen, unlike certain fae.

  By the time Falin dropped the gown I was scowling, mostly at my own thoughts. When he stood, I nearly sighed in relief.

  Then he drew his own dagger.

  This time I did stumble backward, my calves slamming into the bed hard enough that my knees bent and I barely caught myself before falling onto the mattress. Falin frowned at me, and then down at the dagger in his hand.

  “I mean you no harm,” he said, and while his face was blank, his voice was rough, like all of his emotions had caught in his throat. “My word, I mean you no harm.”

  He was fae, so he couldn’t lie. He’d given his word, he wouldn’t harm me. At least, not right now. He reached out and I pressed myself harder against the bed. His frown deepened, but he didn’t say anything else. He’d already given me his word—what else could he offer?

  I forced myself still as his fingers landed on my hips and traced downward until he felt the hilt of the dagger on my upper thigh. He studied the hang of the gown a brief moment, fingering the gathered folds, and then, faster than I could react, he raised his dagger and sliced a long slit into the material. Despite his word, I winced, expecting pain to blossom in my leg. When it didn’t I pried open my eyes in time to see him make similar slices through the layers of petticoats. Then he stepped back with a self-satisfied nod.

  “Reach in the hole,” he said.

  I couldn’t see the slit between the folds of the gown, but I knew where it was. Reaching with trembling fingers, I slipped my hand into the slit, and brushed the hilt of my dagger. Nice. I began to draw the dagger, but Falin caught my arm, stopping me midmotion.

  “It’s a lot harder to get it back in the holster, and with a dagger like that . . .” He trailed off, but I knew exactly what he meant. The dagger liked to draw blood. Usually it reserved that thirst to urging my hand against someone threatening me, but if I gave it the perfect opportunity, I wasn’t sure it wouldn’t take a little of mine.

  Releasing the hilt, I pulled my hand free and studied the gown. The slit closed nearly seamlessly, not completely, but you’d definitely have to be looking for it to know it was there.

  Falin wasn’t finished yet.

  He reached out one more time, his hands moving over the fabric without actually touching it. “Now for a thin layer of glamour and . . .” He stepped back, gesturing to the mirror over my dresser.

  Not only was the slit now invisible, but the gown no longer looked wrinkled or ratty.

  Cool.

  “Ready?” he asked, but he looked away from me as he spoke.

  “If I said no would it make a difference?”

  He headed for the door, motioning me to follow. “You don’t want to keep the queen waiting.”

  • • •

  The drive was far too short. I used most of it texting Holly and Tamara and letting them know I’d been summoned to Faerie. They were both aware of my ongoing struggle with the Winter Queen’s attempts to add me to her court and that I wouldn’t have chosen to visit there. They also knew time and doors worked a little funky in Faerie, so Tamara was understandably pissed. I reassured her I’d do everything in my power to make it to the rehearsal dinner and wedding, but I didn’t promise. I couldn’t. I didn’t know why I’d been summoned or if the queen planned to let me leave Faerie without a fight.

  Falin parked the car, and I was out of time to text. I left my phone and purse in the car—technology didn’t tend to work in Faerie anyway—and moments later was bustling down the sidewalk of the Magic Quarter, feeling very overdressed in the ornate gown. Of course, that all changed once we reached the Eternal Bloom.

  As the one and only fae bar in Nekros, the Bloom had a reputation as a tourist trap. A handful of unglamoured fae were contractually required to frequent the main bar so they could be seen by the mortals. It was good PR and mortals catching sight of fae reinforced the belief Faerie magic required. That said, there were never more than three or four fae at the bar at any given time, the menu was overpriced and limited, and aside from the opportunity to stare at unglamoured fae, the bar itself was rather mundane.

  The VIP room was different. Hidden through a door humans couldn’t perceive unless they knew to look for it, the VIP area was a pocket of Faerie. The fae who worked the mortal side of the bar were doing just that, working. They were required to be seen, so they put themselves on display. Most of the fae on the VIP side were there to relax. They let down their glamour because it felt good to be unconfined, and a single glance around the room revealed shapes both beautiful and monstrous of every shape, size, color, and element. The food was served in magnificent feasts unlike anything I’d tasted elsewhere. Granted, it was Faerie food and if you tried to smuggle any of it out, the food transformed into toadstools that quickly rotted away. And the bar itself? Well, despite the fact I’d been in the bar at least once a week for the last few months, entering still took my breath away.

  The furniture was deceptively simple; all wood but without nail or seam as if each piece had been carved from a single trunk. The room was much larger than what should have been possible for the building to contain. Not that the confines of the rest of the building mattered. The roof was missing, the sky of Faerie stretching above the bar. The sun was up now, high in the sky above, but the branches of the giant tree growing in the very center of the room shaded the bar, making it comfortable.

  The tree itself was possibly one of the most magical things in the room, as well as one of the more dangerous. The amaranthine tree, which gave the Eternal Bloom its name, held flowers of every sort and shape on its many branches, but as I’d learned on my first trip to the Bloom, studying the flowers could lead the unwary to be hopelessly entranced. And that was hardly the only danger in the bar. It was a magnificent place, but a potentially deadly one.

  I sighed as we passed through the threshold. The relief I felt wasn’t quite as profound as when I’d stepped into the pocket of Faerie at my father’s mansion, likely because that pocket had been created by my magic pulling chunks of reality into Faerie, whereas the Bloom was a space where Faerie and reality both bled over and mingled, but it was still an intense change. Falin spared me a momentary frown, and then led me past the fae scattered among the tables. They fell quiet as he approached. Most of the fae in the bar were independents and Falin was not only an agent of the winter court, but the queen’s knight. Her assassin. Her bloody hands. He wasn’t popular, not even among his fellow court fae.

  By the time we reached the trunk of the amaranthine tree, the bar was silent aside from a distant thread of music. I ignored the sound—it might have been coming from the endless dance. The dancers jumped and twirled and writhed in the corner of the bar, but I knew better than to get too close. Once you joined the dance, you had to dance until the music ended. The
previous dance had lasted over half a millennium—until I’d cut the fiddler’s strings on my first visit here—and I had no desire to get caught up in the “merriment.” Besides, even if I was better on this side of the door, I was still exhausted.

  Falin paused. His gaze skittered over my face but I couldn’t read his expression. He could have been memorizing my face because he thought this was the last time he’d see me, or simply judging if I’d make a dash for it rather than follow him into Faerie. Either way, it wasn’t reassuring.

  He didn’t ask again if I was ready. Which was best, as I wasn’t but didn’t want to admit as much. I’d been to the outlying pockets of Faerie like the Bloom and the one in my father’s house numerous times, but Faerie proper? I’d been there only a few times and two out of three hadn’t gone particularly well for me. Seeing the queen also wasn’t at the top of my list of fun—or safe—things to do.

  Falin held out a hand. I stared at his gloved palm for a moment. I could turn and try to run, but that would be rather pointless. I could shrug off his gesture and walk into Faerie all on my own, but doors tended to be strange in Faerie. While I might walk through only a moment after him, it was possible for us to arrive on the other side of the door hours apart. Contact guaranteed we’d arrive together. So, after a moment of hesitation, I placed my own gloved hand in his.

  Then we walked around the tree, and though I couldn’t see the door, between one step and the next the world slid out of focus. The bar vanished, as did the dappled sunlight, the thin strands of music, and the tree itself. In its place was a pillar of intricately carved ice. The floor and walls were also ice, though there was no chill to the air nor was the surface slick. Above us stretched an inky black sky, broken with pinpoints of glistening white specks though I wasn’t sure if they were distant stars or falling snow that vanished long before it could reach our heads.

  Entering the Bloom had made me feel slightly better, but entering Faerie proper felt like I shed a hundred pounds of exhaustion that had been attempting to drown me, and my vision cleared, the magic that damaged my eyes ineffectual here. I almost smiled as I looked around. Almost. Even the sudden physical relief wasn’t enough to stem my general anxiety of being in the winter court.