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datatime: 2022-11-27 03:57:31 Author:mPyZcmIq

I stared at the packet, then at him. That wasn't all that was under the seat.

I'm an Unseelie princess. Why should I be hiding from them?

Nervous of me. I didn't think you'd be impressed with royalty. I watched his face, tried to read what lay underneath, and couldn't. He was hiding something.

Then hurry.

He leaned back against the wall. That is the question, isn't it.

I'm an Unseelie princess. Why should I be hiding from them?

Helping me could be very dangerous, Jeremy.

Then hurry.

He stood near the door, and the light switch. It was hard to tell in the dark but he seemed dressed in one of his usual suits, impeccably tailored, compact and elegant. But there was an underlying tension to him, as if he wanted to say other things, more direct things, or maybe, he knew something already. Something bad.

He leaned back against the wall. That is the question, isn't it.

Then hurry.

He raised his left hand in the air. Let's just say that Branwyn's Tears has a long shelf life. Take the shower.

He leaned back against the wall. That is the question, isn't it.

I stared at him. What do you think is going to happen? I couldn't quite keep the suspicion out of my voice.

Shouldn't I be?

Then hurry.

I stared at the packet, then at him. That wasn't all that was under the seat.

Jeremy laughed. Don't worry, I haven't made any calls, but I'm sure the police have by now. I don't know why you've been hiding all this time, but if you're hiding from the sluagh, the Host, then you're in deep trouble.

I stared at the packet, then at him. That wasn't all that was under the seat.

Shouldn't I be?

Good for you, but trust me about the shower.

I smiled at him, and I found myself wanting to step closer to him, to close a little of that careful distance. I didn't want Jeremy in that way, but the urge to see just how much of a hold I could have on him was there like a dark thought. It wasn't like me to want to push the envelope with a friend. An enemy maybe, but not a friend. Was it a leftover urge from last night, or were the Tears still affecting me more than I realized? I didn't think about it again. I just turned and walked to the bathroom. A quick shower and we'd be on our way to the airport.

Even across the room in the dark I could feel the weight of his gaze, the intensity of it. It was impolite for a fey to ask another direct questions, but, oh, he wanted to ask. You could feel the unasked questions like something touchable in the air between us.

He opened his jacket like a model on the runway showing off the smooth line of his shirt and tie. But he was flashing the gun tucked into the waistband of his pants. It was just a darker shape against the paleness of his shirt, but I knew it was a 9-mm LadySmith because it was my gun. He took an extra clip out of one pocket. The box of extra ammo is in the sack with your clothes. He laid the gun on top of the taped packet and stepped back around the bed, so that it stood between us.

Sluagh was a rude name for the lesser Unseelie fey. The Host was the polite phrase. Rude first, polite was an afterthought. Oh, well. Only another Unseelie could say sluagh and not have it be a mortal insult.

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