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Cress scowled. “You always think everyone’s hiding something.” He tossed his cushion weapon back to the couch.

“Just ignore him,” Mor murmured to Cress. “He’s only saying this to get you riled up again. Why do you always fall for it?”

“I’m not just saying it!” Shayne stated. He crossed his arms. “Her hair smells like fairy blood. Why in the name of the sky deities would one of our humans smell of fairy blood?”

Mor sighed and went to get the broom from the closet. When he pulled it out, he started sweeping the kitchen. Large mug chunks went straight into the garbage.

“Perhaps your senses are off,” Dranian mumbled.

Cress nodded. “He’s right. You’ve been living in the human realm so long you don’t know what you’re smelling or sensing or whatever.” He waved a hand through the air as he went to fetch the other cushion.

“Smell this.” Shayne held up the hair he’d stolen from Lily’s ponytail. “Then you decide if I’m going mad for nothing.”

Mor released an exasperated sound and marched across the apartment. He took the hair as if he had a thousand other things he’d rather be doing, and he sniffed it. “It’s normal,” he stated, but his brows pulled together. He blinked down at the hair. Slowly, he lifted it to his nose again, and this time when he smelled it, he inhaled deeply, rolling it between his fingers.

He dropped his hand to his side and glanced off. He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“What is it, Mor?” Cress leaned forward, eyeing Mor’s hand. “Is it plain and normal and all that?”

Mor’s brown-silver gaze became level with Shayne’s. “If you’re wrong about this, and Lily finds out we’re snooping into her human life,you’regoing to be the one to pay for it.”

Shayne smiled and thrust a victory fist into the air.

“I suggest lashings as punishment if he’s wrong,” Cress said.

“I’m not wrong,” Shayne promised. “Did you know Lily frequents a secret building across the city? It’s calledDesmount Tech—the same company that equips the police force with someveryastounding gear—”

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Mor asked.

Shayne grinned again. “I’m suggesting we handle it like we would have in the Brotherhood. We go at night, we infiltrate, we interrogate, and we get the answers we need.”

“And if you’re wrong?” Mor challenged.

Shayne tapped a finger against his chin. “If I’m wrong, Cress can give me six lashings—”

“Ten,” Cress decided.

“Fine, ten. But if I’mright—”

“If you’re right, you’ll just be faeborn right. That’s all there is to it,” Mor cut in.

“No. If I’m right about this, I want you to erase my memories of the Four Corners so that I only know of this place.” Shayne twirled a finger around the apartment.

Dranian nearly fell off his stool at the island, and Cress gasped.

Mor stared though. The Shadow Fairy didn’t say anything—didn’t mention to the others that this was not the first time Shayne had asked him to do this.

“That is preposterous, Shayne!” Cress announced. “Why would you want to forget the things of your youth and childling years? The lessons we learned to evade fairy tricks? Your assassin training? And… all the other important things?”

Shayne held Mor’s gaze. Mor was the one who knew the extent of Shayne’s nightmares. He was also the one who’d endured Shayne’s incessant, obnoxious begging over the last few days to have everything erased in hopes it might cure him of his sleeping torment. Even so…

“I’m not doing that,” Mor stated.

Shayne sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He found a button in there. One he’d stolen right off a snobbish human’s coat. “Fine. I’ll take thejust being faeborn rightthing. Being right about this is satisfaction enough.” He pointed to Cress. “Unless I can give Cress lashes?”

“Absolutely not!” Cress snapped back as he marched over. “I was once aprinceof the North Corner of—”

Shayne threw the button into Cress’s open mouth.