Page 55

Fane inclined his head. “I’m part messenger, part negotiator. The king can send his own messages, but for some things, he needs an envoy who can carry a message back, or cut a deal if need be. Or simply observe and report back.”

Evie’s hands balled on her lap. “You should never have married my mom.”

“I didn’t. We weren’t married, and we weren’t mates.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know that.”

Sorrow flickered across Fane’s fine-boned face. “I know I hurt her, and I’m sorry for that. I wouldn’t have done that for the world.”

“But you did.”

“She wasn’t supposed to have a child. Usually only mates can conceive.

” Fane passed a hand over his face. “Hell. That sounds as if I didn’t want you, love, but I did.

I was so happy when your mother told me about you.

Believe that if nothing else. As for why I never told you?

” He moved a shoulder. “I intended to get around to it someday. You don’t have a fae Gift, so it didn’t seem urgent. ”

Evie scraped a hand over her hair. She’d sort through this later. “So what about me and the fae lights?”

“What do you mean?”

She opened her backpack and lobbed one at him. Fane threw up a hand and it smacked against his palm. They all heard the sizzle.

“Holy mother.” Fane swatted the glowing orb away. “Did you make that yourself?”

“No. I brought it from Jace’s den.” Actually, a fae light had split itself in two, and one half had floated into her backpack while the other half remained back in Baltimore.

“So it’s a fae light?”

“Yes,” said Jace. “But she used it against the night fae. Not that it killed him, you understand. But it did burn him—bad.”

“How about that?” Fane rubbed his chin. “Your great-grandfather is one of Sindre’s top warriors. He can make fae balls from the energy in oxygen. If you hit someone hard enough, it’s like tossing a grenade at them—and poof.” He opened his fingers. “They’re gone.”

Evie’s mouth dropped open. “So you’re saying I’m a fae warrior?”

“You’re freaking kidding me.” That was Kyler. He’d straightened and was eyeing Evie with shock.

“Not unless you can make a fae ball yourself,” her dad replied.

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

“Have you tried?”

“No. It didn’t even occur to me.”

“If you have the Gift for it, you simply visualize one into being.” Fane nodded at her. “Go ahead—give it a try.”

Evie looked at Jace, who gave her an encouraging squeeze.

“Try it, Evie.” That was Kyler.

With a shrug, she opened her hand and visualized a fae ball shimmering in it.

But it was like when she’d tried to heal Suha’s bruise—nothing happened, except the fae light drifted across the table to settle into her palm.

With a flick of her fingers, she sent it spinning into the air and tried again, jaw set, but still nothing happened.

“Take a deep breath,” Fane suggested. “Imagine it forming in your hand.”

Evie dragged in a breath and obeyed, but again, nothing happened. She didn’t even feel her hand warm like when she’d added her energy to Suha’s.

She shrugged. “So much for my career as a fae warrior.”

Fane’s long fingers touched hers. “Don’t be disappointed.”

“I’m not, really. I want to be a healer, not a warrior.” She thought of the burns on Tyrus and stifled a shudder. She never wanted to do that to anyone again.

“But,” said Fane, “maybe you inherited enough of your grandfather’s ability to use a fae light in a similar way.”

“She’s an amplifier,” Jace said. “She helped heal me.”

“Ah.” Her dad looked impressed. “That’s a Gift indeed.”

Jace released Evie to set both hands on the table. “You won’t tell the ice fae about her,” he said in a hard voice.

“Do you think they don’t already know? I reported her birth to the king. But I won’t tell him about her Gift, no.”

“Good. Because if anyone comes after my mate, I’ll rip your head off your body, Evie’s father or not.”

“Stop it, Jace!” Evie grabbed his arm and tried to give him a shake, but it was like trying to move a stone wall.

The two men ignored her. “I don’t want that any more than you do,” her father said. “She’s my daughter, after all.”

“Then swear it. I want your word that no one will learn of Evie’s Gift from you.”

“You have it.”

“The words,” Jace said between his teeth.

Fane inclined his head. “I vow before all three of you that no one will learn of Evie’s Gift from me.”

The tension went out of Jace. “Good.” He came upright again.

“But why would the ice fae come after me?” Evie asked. “It’s not like they’ve cared about me up until now.”

“It’s not just healers that can use an amplifier,” Fane said. “A warrior could use you to make more powerful fae balls, for instance.”

“And the night fae would just keep you to feed on,” said Jace.

Goosebumps popped up on Evie’s arms. She rubbed her hands over them, and instantly, Jace was behind her again, caressing her shoulders.

“That’s what Tyrus told me,” she said. “That he liked to feed on other fae.”

“He didn’t realize you were an amplifier?” Fane asked sharply.

“No.”

“Thank the gods. Whatever happens, the night fae can’t know. They won’t hesitate to feed from a mixed-blood. They lump us with the humans and fada,” he added with a twist of his lips.

“They’d have to get past me first,” Jace growled.

Her father nodded. “Perhaps it’s not a bad thing you two mated, then.”

Jace folded his arms over his chest. “I take care of the ones I love, fae. Can you say the same?”

“It’s fair that you ask, which brings me to the reason I’m here.” Fane produced a silver-and-gold pendant suspended from a leather cord and handed it to Evie.

She turned it over in her hands. It was clearly fae made—an intricately crafted cutout of a gold sun cupped by a silver half-moon.

“Fire and ice,” her dad murmured. “Sun and moon. A protection charm made by one of the best spellcasters I know. Together, the sun and moon will reflect into the eyes of anyone who might come looking for you, blinding them to your fae nature. Put it on.”

Evie’s vision blurred. “Thank you.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat and slipped it over her head.

Fane shrugged. “I’m a terrible father, but I’ll be damned if one of those night fae bastards comes after my only daughter again.”

Evie touched the pendant. It was so light she could barely feel it, and yet it hummed with power. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

“Think of me when you wear it—and if I were you, I’d wear it everywhere, even to bed.”

She nodded. “I will.”

Fane rose to his feet and extended a hand to Jace. “Peace to you and yours, Jace Jones.”

Jace’s eyes flashed a predatory green, and Evie knew he was wondering how Fane knew his full name. But he shook the proffered hand. “Peace to you and yours…and thanks for the charm.”

Evie stood up as well. “You don’t have to run off. I can make you lunch. I—”

“Thank you, but I should go. I’m not supposed to be here as it is.”

She felt a hint of the old hurt, but it was muted. She rose on her toes to kiss Fane’s cheek. “You’re welcome anytime.”

“I know.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You’ll be moving to Baltimore?”

“I’m not sure,” she said with a glance at Jace, who said, “For the summer at least.” He gave Fane the address.

Her father gave her a last hug and then nodded at Jace. “You’ll keep her safe.” It wasn’t a question.

“Like you care,” Kyler muttered, but Jace slung an arm around Evie’s shoulder.

“She’s my mate,” he said simply.

Fane nodded. “As for you—” He turned to Kyler, who raised his chin.

“What?”

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble someday. But you’re loyal. Evie’s lucky to have you.” He tossed something glittery into the air.

Kyler snatched it and then stared down at it, mouth ajar. “It’s another fucking diamond.” He held it up and it caught the morning sun, and for an instant, Evie was blinded. The back door opened and shut, and when she could see again, her dad was gone.

“Ice fae, huh?” Kyler touched Evie’s arm, his expression mock-serious. “You don’t feel cold.”

She knocked his hand away, and then burst out laughing. “Go soak your head, squirt.”