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Violet made a face. “I won’t be able to type another word if you do that.”

Shayne slid his crossbow off and set it against the chair, then leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “Why ever not? Most would love having a strong assassin gaze at them longingly while they do their work.”

Violet shifted her weight in her seat. “Let’s just say I’m not interested in…” she waved a hand toward his leather Catwoman outfit, “…crazy.”

Shayne sat back in his seat, face pensive. “You like someone else,” he realized.

Violet’s eyes widened. “No, I don’t!”

But Shayne was already grinning—too widely. “You can’t fool a fairy, Human. Not on matters such as these. You just lied and said you don’t long for someone crazy like me, but you’re the spitting image of crazy yourself, and in my experience, crazy calls to crazy. So, the only explanation is that you already have strong affections for someone else.” He tapped a finger on his knee, and suddenly his face changed. “Queensbane, is it Mor?!” It came out with a horrifying level of excitement.

Violet stood. She was sure her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg on.

Shayne sprang from his seat and gasped. “It is!” He pointed at her. “It’s Mor!”

Everything inside of Violet told her to shout protests. To deny it to her death. But when her heart took on an extra beat, she was suddenly very afraid to ask herself why. Why was her heart beating off its rhythm? Why did the accusation make her blush so hard?

Violet abandoned her work and beelined for the door. For the first time in days, she had a reality check. She asked herself what she was even doing spending time in this place after she’d almost died because of it. She needed to go home to Zorah, pack their bags, and convince her aunt to move somewhere remote with her—like she should have done right from the beginning.

Shayne was faster than lightning. His body cut her off and he slapped a hand against the opposite doorframe before she could leave. He bit his lower lip over a grin. “Don’t go anywhere, pretty Human,” he said. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to fall for Mor. I must know everything.”

Violet set her jaw and grabbed his bare hand with hers.

Shayne released a low-toned shriek and tore his arm away. He cast her an accusing look. “That was mean,” he stated.

“You’remean!” she countered, suddenly feeling like a child in a fight. But Shayne grinned.

“I know. It’s part of the reason you females like me, I presume,” he said.

A crash sounded down the hall, halting their petty fight.

Mor marched around the corner in his vampire coat, and Violet held her breath, suddenly afraid he’d heard their conversation. She wanted to melt into the floor—right into that unmarked grave she’d been so worried about the first time she came here.

Shayne’s smile widened. “Mor!” he greeted. Mor grabbed Shayne by the arm and yanked him away. “Ow!” Shayne protested as Mor dragged him to the end of the hall and down the stairs. Violet rushed after them but stayed at the top of the staircase as Shayne was tossed toward the front doors.

“How many times do I need to tell you fools not to come after me?!” Mor sounded furious—Violet staggered back a step.

Shayne rolled his eyes and patted off his leather suit as though Mor had spoiled it. “I wanted to see your lightless hermit hut for myself, Mor. You can’t keep secrets from us anymore, you know. If you’re really fighting a nine tailed fox, you need us.”

Mor’s jaw flexed. “Imustdo this on my own. Don’t make me keep saying it.”

Shayne’s smile was gone. “Then why did you bring her to the café before and leave her in our care?” He nodded up the stairs toward Violet. Both fairies glanced at her at the same time, making Violet want to shrink into the floor all over again.

Mor opened his mouth twice before coming up with an answer. He dragged his gaze back to Shayne. “I didn’t mean to get her involved. She broke in and now my scent is on her, you know that.”

“Yes, I gathered she’d broken in when she told me all about how she brilliantly did it. And of course she smells like you, Mor. She probably likes it.” He couldn’t stop his smile from breaking out at that last comment.

Violet considered pulling off one of her heels and throwing it at his white-haired head.

“Go back to the café where you belong and tell the others tostay awayuntil I finish this. I swear, if I have to have this conversation one more time—”

“Absolutely not,” Shayne stated. “You might be able to spit on Cress’s parade because of your adorably chummy history, but I’m here now, and I’m far more difficult to get rid of. I’m not leaving until you let me help you. Even if it’s just to wash your faeborn stockings.” Shayne held up both hands like he was ready to do the dirty work.

“You hate stockings!” Mor snapped.

“No, I hatewearingstockings.” Shayne pointed up at Violet. “Do you really want to watch that human die? Just because you’re stubborn, Mor? What if she’s the price you pay for not letting us deal with your problem? Don’t you remember what almost happened to Kate?”

The air seemed to stop moving in the cathedral. Mor said nothing and glanced up at Violet again instead. Violet lifted both her hands.