Page 47 of Through the Veil (Endangered Fae #2)

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“I…don’t recall.”

Well, this is going just perfectly.

“You needn’t…” Finn still stared at his hands twisting in his lap. “I’m certain you could break through Faolchú’s spell. If you don’t wish to be here.”

“Probably. But I think I’d hurt the big guy’s feelings.” Tired and heartsick, Diego abruptly ran out of patience. “You broke my heart.”

“Ten thousand apologies aren’t enough.”

“So explain, damn it. Faolchú said you have things to tell me.”

“I have not… That is, I…” Finn shook his head and wiped a sleeve over his eyes.

A flutter of worry ratcheted around Diego’s stomach. He had never seen Finn at a loss for words, so flustered and forlorn. “I won’t yell at you. Just tell me.”

“I wanted you to be proud of me,” Finn forced out in a cracked whisper.

Diego drummed his fingers on the table. “I was proud of you. Damned proud. When you swallowed your fear at that press conference and made them see the truth, made them listen…for one, amazing, brief moment, I was bursting with pride. Then you saw Lugh kiss me and you got ticked off and ran away.”

Finn buried his face in his trembling hands.

Now come the tears…

But Finn surprised Diego. He drew in several shaky, hitching breaths and reached for the saltshaker, which he uncapped and dumped out on the table.

“That kiss stabbed at me, I will not say otherwise.” Finn stared at the salt as he drew a finger through it in a spiral pattern. “I had determined to go some time before, though. That Lugh still showed a preference for you only shored up my resolve.”

“You’d planned on leaving me?” Diego choked out.

“Not leave you, my heart, not in the sense that one leaves a lover for another. I left your company for a time. To see if I could stand on my own. To see if you would choose another when I no longer hovered over you.”

“You can toss me at Lugh all you want, it won’t—”

Finn raised a hand to stall him. “I still wished to give you the choice. But I have not simply been hiding, waiting for you to fall into someone else’s arms. I have been on a…mission.”

“For whom?”

“All of us.” Finn sighed, tracing the outline of a horse in his salt pile.

“I’m not explaining this well at all. Forgive me.

From the moment you rescued me from the bridge in New York, I have been allowing others to do the things that were necessary.

You saved me from a slow death. You made me see the beauty in this life again.

You defeated the wendigo. You are the one who has saved the world’s magic, built the doorways, schemed, plotted and fought your way through every obstacle.

Yes, you had help, you will tell me. Certainly.

But precious little from me. I did aught else but blunder about and cause you trouble and worry. ”

“Finn…”

“I am explaining. Let me explain. Please.” Finn raised his head for the first time, and though anguish still swam in his eyes, determination had joined it.

“I’m listening.”

Finn nodded and went back to his salt drawing.

“I wished to do something myself. Something good and important. Something that would help. It occurred to me that during all the discussion about saving the fae, only the courts had been consulted. There are others, the wild fae, who do not associate with one court or the other. No one had thought of them. No one had asked them if they wished to rejoin the human world. Who better to speak to them but one of their own?”

“So this was your own diplomatic mission? To the wild fae?”

“Yes.”

Diego ran his hands back through his hair. “And you didn’t tell me, didn’t discuss this with me beforehand, because why , exactly?”

“It was not the safest thing to do. You would have tried to dissuade me, tried to come with me. I had to do this on my own, and you were needed here.”

“ Dios , Finn…why didn’t you at least answer me when I called? Why let me think you were gone forever?”

“To give you the time and space—”

“To choose, yes, damn it, I got that.” Diego flung himself up and away from the table to pace. “I would have died first rather than take another lover to my bed. I’ve been dying, every fucking day! Some message, some word, some hint, anything would have kept me whole.”

Finn ducked his head, his voice small and full of misery, “I was so certain… I’m so sorry. My light, please believe that I thought I did the right thing. The honorable thing.”

“Honor is overrated,” Diego muttered and returned to his chair with a huff.

“Look, I understand someone, or maybe more than one person, told you that you weren’t good enough for me.

Maybe even told you it would be a good idea for you to stand aside.

But when it comes to what’s between us, the only person you should have listened to besides yourself is me. ”

“I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you so terribly.” Finn’s whisper cracked and wavered.

Diego slammed his palm on the table. “Damn it, don’t cry! You haven’t earned the right, and you haven’t told me anything about where you’ve been.”

Once again, he watched Finn struggle for calm. Even through his anger, it tore at his heart. He wanted to strangle Finn and take him in his arms all at once.

“I went to the wild ones,” Finn said on a long sniff. “The wood sprites, the bane sidhe who live under the hills, the spriggans, who haunt the lonely places, the selkies who are salt-water folk, the other pookas—”

“There are other pookas? A pooka community you never bothered to mention?”

Finn shook his head. “No, hardly a community. We are all male. There are only four of us, each solitary, each taking on some aspects of those who live closest to them. One spends most of his time as a seal, another resembles tree bark and the last one has adopted scales since he lives near the dragon caves—”

“Dragon caves? I guess next you’ll tell me you went to talk to dragons.”

“Yes. I could not very well exclude them.”

“Oh.” The gears in Diego’s brain ground to a halt.

He had never considered there might be others, had simply assumed Balor and Danu spoke for all of the Otherworld since they acted as if this was understood.

Guilt pried its fingers into his thoughts.

He should have realized. His anger at Finn faded in the face of more far-reaching concerns.

“So all of these people you spoke to, what did they say?”

“The selkies are pleased. They have missed the Atlantic. The spriggans are…less so, but they owe old debts to Danu and will not gainsay her. The wood sprites understand the necessity. The bane sidhe …” Finn hesitated, his brow furrowed.

“They agree because of you. They have been watching you and say that they have sifted your dark from your light. That you are balanced.”

Diego blinked. “What does that mean?”

“I have no inkling. The only fathomable thing I got from them was ‘yes’.”

“And the other pookas?”

“They tell me I am a great fool for sticking my nose in where it has no business. But they have no objections. They pretend not, but they miss the human world and all its possibilities.”

“The dragons…you saved them for last.”

Finn returned to his salt, drawing strange, amorphous patterns. “Out of necessity, yes. One never knows if an encounter with a dragon will leave one unscathed.”

“Are they…feral? Half-sentient?” Diego leaned forward, drawn into the story despite himself.

“Hmm, not that so much. They are reticent by nature and…wary from long and terrible experience.” Finn blew out a slow breath, his gaze unfocused and distant.

“They are beings for whom everything is a puzzle to be solved. They thrive on puzzles…riddles…arcane knowledge. They must be approached slowly, over several days, so they are certain of your intentions. Gifts are important. Any polite interaction with outsiders involves gifts.”

“What did you bring them?”

“I went to see the oldest surviving dragon, Hssetassk, with the gift of a pen.”

“Just that?”

“Yes. You must have left it behind on one of your jaunts across the Veil, the red, plastic one where the point appears and disappears when you click the top. He was fascinated by it and required that I explain how the material was made. I tried. I wish you had been there for that. But he agrees with me that pulling solid, colorful material from pitch must require some form of magic.”

“Science, Finn. It’s not magic.”

“To a dragon, they are one and the same.” Finn pulled a leather pouch from beneath his shirt.

“He demanded stories of the human world and my involvement in it. This was…difficult. Dragons cannot abide falsehood. Any embellishment is dangerous. I was with him for two weeks before he gave me two things—his answer and a gift for you.”

“What was his answer?”

“He says the halves should not have been separated, that you have prevented a great calamity by opening the way again. But he must think further on whether dragons will ever come here to the island or interact with humans in any way. Humans decimated his race over the centuries. There are so few left. They do not hate, but they remember all too well.” Finn opened the pouch and pulled out a crystal sphere, small enough to fit in his palm.

A dull silver liquid swam inside the little globe, twisting and turning in a mesmerizing way.

“Quicksilver. He says it is a seeing orb, for one who can feel its energy.”

Diego stared at it, filled with wonder. “How do I thank him for such a gift?”

“He does not expect it. A gift for a gift. I told him the pen was from you, which was true.” Finn reached across to hand him the orb, which required him to rise from his chair. He flinched and cried out, panting as he leaned on the table, eyes squeezed shut.

“Finn!” Diego ignored his outstretched hand and dashed around the table to support him. When they touched, Finn’s mental walls crumbled, all his anguish, his uncertainty, his physical pain stripped naked. “You’re hurt. Dios , you’re burning up. Let me see.”