Page 107 of Wicked Hungry

“Cleansing?” Blaine asks, dubious. “Detox? What, are we going to the spa?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. But he seems to be controlling some of the zombies.”

“He had enough bottles of Eternal Cleanse to drug the whole city. The whole state, almost.”

“But you stopped it, right?” I ask.

“Your friend Karen stopped it,” Blaine says. “Connor and I just mopped up what was left.”

“But what does Zach want? And who’s controlling him?”

“Maybe the Seelie?” Morgaine asks, turning to her husband. “Unless you think it was Piper.”

Blaine shakes his head. “No, Piper’s had his hands full trying to deal with problems at that school of his. Not to mention the ghouls tonight. Maybe it is the Seelie. But I was so sure they would never move against us.”

“Yes,” Morgaine says. “The Seelie. Why would they move against us?”

“They’re the only ones we haven’t bargained with. Maybe we’ve taken their friendship for granted.”

“How could they do anything so evil?” she asks.

Nye raises an eyebrow. “We Unseelie have different notions of good and evil from the Seelie, different as well from werefolk and vampires. But perhaps the gatekeeper is right: perhaps Eleanor felt slighted and wishes to have a stronger bargaining point.”

“Who is Eleanor?” I ask.

“The Seelie queen,” Nye says. “Queen of the Summer Court. The court that creates, that makes all the plants bloom and grow.”

“But you’re not of the Seelie court, right?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. “I am of the Unseelie. The winter court. We make the plants wither and die only to spring forth the next year.”

Blaine clears his throat. “They hold each other in balance. Or that’s how it’s supposed to work. Who knows what’s going on now? No one has contacted you, Morgaine?”

She shakes her head. “Unlike Stanley, I’ve had no text messages. No phone calls. No letters. Nothing. Just these emissaries from the Unseelie court parked in front of my door,” she says, looking at Nye.

He goes down to one knee. “Nye, at your service.”

Morgaine shakes her head. “An Unseelie knight serves no one besides her queen.”

Nye stares at her. “Still, by my queen’s orders, I remain in your service.”

“You told me nothing of this outside,” says Blaine.

“What I have to say is for Morgaine’s ears only,” Nye says. “Outside, who knows who might be listening?”

“Speak, then,” Morgaine says. “What do you know about Carolina?”

“And Meredith,” I ask, looking at the two of them.

“And Meredith, her human friend,” Morgaine says.

Our conversation is interrupted by knocking at the door. Morgaine looks at Blaine, who nods. The knocking grows louder, more insistent.

Blaine walks out of the room. We all stand there, silen

t, waiting, listening. From the other room comes a short conversation, low voices.

The door slams shut and Blaine returns.