Page 46 of Through the Veil (Endangered Fae #2)

“Thank you, beautiful one.” Finn turned to the bit of wall and cocked his head to one side. The harp wall was a clever glamour, whoever had done it, with a staircase hidden behind.

At the top of the stairs, he found himself in another little room, this one with a wardrobe and a desk with a pretty human girl sitting behind it.

She smiled. “Welcome to the embassy, sir. Is this your first time here?”

“Yes. I…I’m looking for Diego Sandoval.”

“He’s in his office on a call right now, but we’ll be happy to set something up for you.

” The girl rose, opened the wardrobe and pulled out a silk dressing gown of deep blue.

“If you wouldn’t mind, sir. Embassy protocol.

The Consul discourages nakedness aboveground. Just in case there are visitors.”

The Consul? “Ah, yes, of course.”

She frowned when she caught sight of his hip. “Do you need medical attention, sir? There are healers downstairs.”

“I’m well enough, m’dear, don’t fret.” He gave her what he hoped was a dazzling smile as he shrugged into the silk. “This is days old now. If you could just point the way?”

“He’s down at the end of the hall on the right but…sir, wait! You can’t just go in there!”

Finn ignored her, prepared to set her gently aside should she get in the way. Another young woman hurried toward them but bypassed him to intercept the first human.

“Let him go, Cheryl.”

“But Mr. Sandoval’s on the phone with—”

“I know. But that’s him .”

“Him?” The first girl’s voice grew hushed. “ Him …the picture on his desk?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“Oh.”

Good gods, this place is confounding . Finn pressed his ear to the door at the end of the hall. Diego’s voice rose and fell in a one-sided conversation. Oh, that beloved voice, it pierced his heart and nearly took him out at the knees. Courage, you cannot turn coward now.

He eased the door open. Diego sat behind a desk of dark wood in a button-down shirt of deep burgundy, as breathtakingly beautiful as Finn recalled. More so , the ache in Finn’s chest insisted. Those deep, expressive eyes rose from his papers and widened in shock.

“Finn? Holy—” For a moment, Diego just stared. Then he spoke into the phone. “I’ll have to call you back.”

“Good morning, my heart.” Finn tried a smile, but it quickly faded when Diego’s anguished expression didn’t change. “How do you fare?”

“Not very well over the last eight damned months, thank you,” Diego answered. “Finn…where the hell have you been?”

“My love, I had to go.” Finn spread his hands in front of him, pleading for understanding. “To give you time and space. Without me. To choose what you truly needed.”

“I chose some time ago.” Diego’s voice caught. “I thought I made that crystal clear.”

Finn dared to take a step closer. “Yes, but I have wondered whether that was the best thing for you. That if, separated from me for a time, you might make a choice better suited to you.”

“How dare you? By what right do you make decisions like that for me? Without a word of warning? Without discussion? Damn it, Finn!”

“I only thought to—”

“I’ve waited eight months for you! Called for you every morning and every night! Agonized over why you left and this is the best you can do?” Diego buried his face in his hands. “ Ay, Dios …Finn… I can’t stand the sight of you right now. Please go away. Leave me alone.”

There it was, then. Diego had asked him to leave. Further explanations about where he had been and what he had been doing no longer mattered. Diego had told him to go, and he had promised if Diego ever said it, he would respect his love’s request and do exactly that.

“As you wish,” he murmured as he backed out of the office. He staggered down the hall, no longer certain of his balance or if his heart still beat.

“Didn’t go so well, did it?” the girl at the desk asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“No. He tossed me out.” Finn’s voice shook so badly, he wondered how he could form words.

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

Finn leaned on the desk, willing his legs to hold him. “Water… I need running, fresh water. Is there a river on the island? A stream? A trickle of creek?”

“There’s a fountain out back in the garden. It’s the start of the stream King Balor called up for the island. Do you need…help, sir? You don’t look very well.”

“No!” He jerked back when she reached for him. Don’t touch me, please gods, not now. I’ll shatter into a million pieces. “No. Thank you. I’ll manage.”

Her directions took him out a back door and into an enchanting garden filled with flowers and fruit trees.

He trudged down the path, unable to enjoy the beauty before him, hardly aware of anything but the need to place one foot in front of the other.

He had done what he thought he must, had known the risks, and lost his love, perhaps for all time.

Where do I go now? How do I continue on without you, my heart, my light? Sweet Mother, if I weren’t a pooka, I’d drown myself…

A sudden rush of footsteps interrupted his thoughts. A hard blow slammed into him and hurled him to the ground. Clawed hands seized him and flipped him to his back. He caught a glimpse of raven-dark hair and sharp teeth before a fist hit his jaw with the force of a war hammer.

“You lying, craven worm!” Morrigan hissed, her claws around his throat. “What have you done to him now?”

Finn coughed, struggling for a breath, and wheezed out, “I might follow your words better if my poor head didn’t spin like a whirlpool…”

“ Diego , you slug! He sits at his desk weeping as if his heart has broken all over again.” She shook him like a terrier with a rat. “What have you done?”

Her claws and her weight suddenly lifted from him. Finn gasped after air, the black spots clearing from his vision in time to see Faolchú tuck a struggling Morrigan under his arm.

“Let me loose, you mangy, misbegotten hound!” Morrigan rasped.

“Uncalled for, Morri.” Sionnach appeared on the path, shaking his head. “Faolchú is simply trying to prevent a tragedy. Somehow, I don’t think killing Finn will make Diego any happier.”

Nathair crouched beside him and stroked a hand over his hair. That gentle touch nearly caused Finn to lose his composure. “Fionnachd, he has wept every night for you, though he tries to pretend not. Where have you been?”

All the things he had wanted to tell Diego spilled out in a desperate rush, where he had been and why. By the end of the telling, Angus had joined them, and even Morrigan listened with interest, her head cocked to one side.

“You told Diego all this?” Sionnach asked.

“No.” Finn choked on his words. “He told me to go away. So I am.”

Angus threw his hands up in exasperation. “You colossal fool! He cannot mean for you to go away for good and all, he means for an hour or two, perhaps until this evening so he might collect himself.”

“This evening…” Nathair murmured with a speculative expression. “It occurs to me that Diego is too often alone with his dinner. I believe we should make dinner for him tonight.”

Diego pulled a brush through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to tame the curls.

He hadn’t bothered with things like haircuts in a number of months.

What did it really matter? He was in no mood for dinner guests, either, in no mood to face anyone, but Nathair had said this dinner was vital to the peace of the island. Duty called—he had to go.

Why the mystery, he couldn’t understand. Maybe there was some piece of fae politics he hadn’t seen yet, some secretive faction he had yet to deal with.

But, God , he was tired and aching, wanting nothing more than a stiff drink and bed.

Finn had taken his demands literally, it seemed, and had vanished again, and Diego was left, once again, to carry on as if his heart hadn’t been ripped from him.

His hand stole to his chest where the agate ring nestled against his skin on its chain.

He was a great fool to keep it with him still, but he couldn’t bear to part with it.

He made his way down the stairs, still toying with the idea of making his excuses, saying he was ill and engineering a quick escape.

Sionnach met him in the hall to take his arm and walk with him, leaning his head on Diego’s shoulder.

What Diego took for sympathy, he realized was merely distraction when he reached the dining room.

Soft candlelight shimmered from every surface. A light supper of roast chicken, boiled potatoes and asparagus graced the table. Only two places had been set, and one was occupied already…by Finn.

“I think I’ve been set up,” Diego said as he looked around at the expectant faces by the door.

He extricated his arm so he could turn and leave, and ran into a massive chest.

“Oh, no,” Faolchú growled. “My beloved spent all this effort to get you two in the same room, so you will stay in the same room.” He spun Diego back around. “Sit down, please.”

Diego sat, certain the alternative was Faolchú forcibly placing him in the chair. Cleaned up and dressed in a black oxford shirt and black dress pants, Finn sat across the table, hunched over, staring at his hands, obviously unhappy with these forced arrangements.

“Now, I have bespelled the door.” Faolchú crossed his arms over his chest. “When we leave, it will lock behind us and only I will be able to reopen it. Fionnachd has things to explain to you, and you, Light-wielder, need to listen. Two hours. Surely that will be enough time to talk things through. Then I will open the door again.”

“But—” Diego tried to protest. Too late, the other fae had made their escape and shut the door.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Finn wouldn’t raise his head and made no move to speak.

Dark hollows lined his eyes. His cheekbones stood out too prominently.

He looked so miserable, it would have been easy to feel sorry for him and forgive him.

“You should eat,” Diego said into the long silence. “You look like you could use it.”

Finn shook his head. “I cannot.”