Page 17

Sav

A low headache had begun at the base of my skull.

Morgan’s instructions to return home were beginning to chafe, but it was just the excuse I needed to pull off this new plan.

I would probably die or end up in someone’s dungeon, but once the idea came to me, I couldn’t shake it.

It was simple. Trade Jack for the prisoners.

Risky, but doable—if I could get him into Faerie. Willingly, if possible. Bound if not.

With the might of a fae army at my back, how could Dane refuse?

Now I just needed to convince one of the courts to lend me their army. I didn’t trust the truth of who Jack was to any of them, but if they learned how abominably our kind was being treated, they’d have to do something.

I would have preferred to see Dane rot on a spike, but knowing the fae royals as I did, they’d never agree to something that might risk our alliance. I’d play along and when we freed the fae, I would plot Dane’s death on my own.

Sending a prayer to Mab that Juniper would be alive when we came for her, I crossed the street, lifting my chin. This far from Central Park, they wouldn’t be looking for me.

I didn’t have to look back to know Jack still followed. He fancied himself a hero. That would be the key to keeping him with me long enough to secure a trade.

The memory of his breath against my neck and his warm chest pressing me into the wall flashed in my mind.

Icy dread washed over me. My enemy’s son had pressed me into a wall, and I hadn’t immediately killed him.

Worse, I hadn’t hated it. Stop it, Sav. He’s a vile, disgusting human playing hero instead of doing anything truly helpful.

I crossed Manhattan Ave, turning left on Amsterdam Ave.

“Hey! Wait up.” Jack caught up to me, matching my stride.

“Balls feeling better?”

“I was just trying to keep you safe.”

I narrowed my eyes at him.

He tucked a strand of raven hair behind his ear, and a dimple appeared in his cheek. “Okay, I lingered.” At least he owned it. “How do you know how to get into Faerie?”

My gaze shot forward as I picked up speed. I didn’t have an answer for that. Why did humans always have questions for everything?

The quickest path to the Seelie Court was along the North Meadow, but the heaviest concentration of AFF also swarmed that area. Humans still feared the Unseelie enough to avoid Bow Bridge and Conservatory Waters. I’d try that first.

Jack’s long strides ate up the pavement beside me as he matched my pace and asked again: “How do you know how to get into Faerie?”

“A fairy told me,” I said between pants, feigning catching my breath.

Jack gave me a quizzical look, but I picked up speed, jogging down the street. Maybe if I ran faster, he’d be out of breath, and that would put an end to his questions.

Several long minutes later, I cut left on Seventy-Fourth Street, sprinting through an intersection as blaring horns threatened to run me down if I didn’t move a little faster, and dipped behind a Crumbl bakery.

Humans didn’t do most food well, but the heavenly smells wafting from this pastry shop had my mouth watering and reminded me my last meal was on the floor of the bar bathroom.

Jack stopped beside me. His shirt rode up, exposing a line of bronze skin and well defined hip bones that scattered rational thought.

I looked up—cheeks burning—into eyes that were already on me.

He grinned, and it was the self-assured sort of smile usually reserved for members of the high fae court.

“Got any money?” I asked, ignoring the fact that I’d just been caught staring.

“Sure.”

I considered smacking the cocky grin off his face for all of half a second before he pulled a money clip out of his pocket and my gaze fell on the thick wad folded under a silver clip.

That much money could buy me all the Crumbl pastries I dreamed of.

Where had he gotten so much cash? “Did you rob a bank?”

He laughed, sliding several twenties out from under the clip and handing them to me.

I frowned. “What do you want for it?” In Faerie, nothing was free. In the human realm, that was doubly true.

Jack’s grin slid away. “Nothing.”

I folded my arms across my chest and eyed him.

“Sally. Seriously. I don’t want anything.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Look, I’m not sure what sort of people you normally hang out with, but I’m not the kind of guy who expects anything for a favor.”

My ear twitched. Ah. So, the human was trading his cash for a favor. To be determined at a later time. Favors were the worst kind of bargain. Never advantageous to the one who had to pay in the end.

“No deal. Keep your money.”

“What?”

A couple in matching sweats jogged by, and I stepped out behind them. I guess Crumbl wasn’t on the menu today.

“Sally!” Jack darted out of the alley after me. “Wait!”

The smell of crystalized sugar and cinnamon wafted on a phantom breeze and my traitorous stomach demanded we go back. But no favor was worth that delicious scent.

As I neared Central Park, a chill made the hairs on my arms rise. This close to the park, the buildings were empty; no people ventured near, and in a city teaming with humans, the silence was unsettling.

I stepped through the barrier into Unseelie territory, feeling the slightest pressure against my skin as the pads of my bare feet touched grass, and I let out a soft exhale. It was darker here—colder—the air tinged with the crisp scent of Winter.

Although both the winter and autumn court were Unseelie, Autumn had not agreed to the Inter Species Human Fae Alliance laws, instead, sending their emissary to live among the humans and choosing to allow none of its other citizens to dwell in the human realm.

For that reason, unlike the Seelie side of Central Park, whose wards were shared by Spring and Summer, only the winter court barrier protected the Unseelie side.

The air shimmered with the energy of the wards the winter court had erected around the south side of Central Park, and a dusting of snow tugged low branches toward the rye grass blanketing the park.

It wasn’t until I came to Earth that I experienced changing weather in one place.

Once—I’d heard—Faerie was like Earth. Weather changed and courts did not have to depend on one another for their goods.

But Mab had put an end to it long before my time, ensuring our kind were forced to rely on one another to survive.

The addition of the sea courts controlling water access, ensured no one kingdom would ever grow too powerful over another.

Although we were in Unseelie territory, the barriers erected to block out all human sounds and smells welcomed me home and I nearly dropped to my knees and wept. It was blessedly quiet and free of iron, rot and radio waves bisecting my brain in a steady hum.

I glanced at Jack. He held a hand up to the iridescent air shield, wonder on his face. I hadn’t ever considered whether humans could see the barrier, but my lips quirked at his elation.

In three years, I had not been allowed to set foot in Faerie.

I’d forgotten just how peaceful it was. Of course, this bubble inside Central Park wasn’t actually my realm.

It was a mere prelude, and to enter, I’d have to get past one of the guardians.

But thanks to Morgan’s summons, I had a loophole at long last.

I jogged around the lake, stopping beside Bow Bridge, and peered along the undergrowth. If Trym, the troll guardian of the autumn court’s entrance, was awake, I would have better luck with the naiads.

Jack stopped beside me, silent as he took in the scene before him.

Cattails bobbed in a light breeze along the riverbank, tickling my palms.

A distant cousin who’d lived among the humans for some time in the late nineteen eighties told me humans once littered this part of Central Park.

Now, it was still and silent apart from the rustling breeze and the occasional tree branch depositing its dusting of snow on the ground.

Thorns as thick as my arm wove along man-made paths and covered old lamp posts and benches, devouring all traces of humanity and claiming this place for Faerie.

Movement in a shadowy corner of Bow Bridge had me squinting to peer through snowflakes falling heaviest where the pocket entrance to Autumn lay beneath the bridge.

“What is that?” Jack asked, disturbing the silence.

“That’s a troll.” I chewed my bottom lip. I had hoped that with the autumn court entrance being dormant, Trym would be asleep, but it seemed luck wasn’t with me today. “Can you swim?”

Jack snorted. “You want to go for a swim? Now?” He held his hand out, collecting snowflakes and raising his brow at me for emphasis.

I rolled my eyes, marching through the cattails to the lake.

“Sally. Stop.” Jack was right behind me, making far more noise than necessary, considering we were treading on damp earth.

At the edge of the lake—ignoring Jack’s protests—I secured my bag over a shoulder, already wrapped in a bit of magic to keep the contents dry, and trudged in.

“Sally!”

I grimaced, the muck below the water squishing between my toes. In Faerie, the lake beds were all filled with smooth rocks and bits of rounded glass. On Earth, lakes were murky beasts of mud and filth.

Jack splashed in behind me, as I knew he would.

Something sliced into my ankle, and I hissed. It gave a sharp yank, and I grounded my feet in the mud, turning to Jack. “Turn back.”

“No. Sally, this is mad. We can’t swim here. There are…things…in the water.”

As if to emphasize his point, nails bit into my calf and I stifled a cry, leaning down and wrapping a fist around the slick scaley arm attempting to pull me under.

“Not today, Naiad,” I seethed, squeezing until her thin bones cracked.

She wriggled wildly in my grasp, but a second set of nails dug into my arm, then a third.

Damn naiads. I wasn’t getting into Faerie this way.

Shaking them off, I turned, slogging through the mud. “Go Jack.”