feathers, not too terribly unlike the ones we had seen in Nevada—but the colors were all in the rich, cool tones of the Winter Court: glacial blue, deep sea green, and twilight purple.
She looked at me and said, “I’m waiting for you to say something about a Vegas showgirl.”
It took me a moment to reconnect my mouth to my brain. “You look amazing,” I said.
Her smile was slow and hot, with her dark eyes on mine.
“Um,” I said. “But . . . it doesn’t look very practical.”
Lea accepted Glenmael’s hand and exited the limo. She leaned over and murmured something into Susan’s ear.
Susan arched an eyebrow, but then said, “Okaaay . . .” She closed her eyes briefly, frowning.
And she vanished. Like, completely. Not behind a hard-to-pierce veil. Just gone.
My godmother laughed and said, “The same as before, but red, child.”
“Okay,” said Susan’s voice from empty air, and suddenly she was back again, smiling broadly. “Wow.”
“The cloak will hide you from the eyes and other senses as well, child,” my godmother said. “And while you wear those shoes, your steps will leave no tracks nor make the smallest sound.”
“Um, right,” I said. “But I’d feel better if she had some Kevlar along or something. Just in case.”
“Glenmael,” said my godmother.
The chauffeur calmly drew a nine-millimeter, pointed it at Susan’s temples from point-blank range, and squeezed the trigger. The gun barked.
Susan jerked her head to one side and staggered, clapping one hand to her ear. “Ow!” she snarled, rising and turning on the young Sidhe. “You son of a bitch, those things are loud. That hurt. I ought to kick your ass up between your ears for you.”
In answer, the Sidhe bent with consummate grace and plucked something from the ground. He stood and showed it to Susan, and then to me.
It was a bullet. The nose was smashed in flat, until it vaguely resembled a small mushroom.
Our eyes got kind of wide.
Lea spread her hands and said calmly, “Faerie godmother.”
I shook my head, stunned. It had taken me years to design, create, and improve my leather duster’s defensive spells, and even then, the protection extended only as far as the actual leather. Lea had whipped up a whole-body protective enchantment in minutes.
I suddenly felt a bit more humble. It was probably good for me.
But then I tilted my head, frowning. The power involved in my godmother’s gifts was incredible—but the universe just doesn’t seem to be willing to give you something for nothing. That was as true in magic as it was in physics. I could, with years of effort, probably duplicate what Lea’s gifts could do. The Sidhe worked with the same magic I did, though admittedly they seemed to have a very different sort of relationship. Still, that much power all in one spot meant that the energy cost for it was being paid elsewhere.
Like maybe in longevity.
“Godmother,” I asked, “how long will these gifts endure?”
Her smile turned a little sad. “Ah, child. I am a faerie godmother, am I not? Such things are not meant to last.”
“Don’t tell me midnight,” I said.
“Of course not. I am not part of Summer.” She sniffed, rather scornfully. “Noon.”
And that made more sense. My duster’s spells lasted for months, and I thought I’d worked out how to make them run for more than a year the next time I laid them down. Lea’s gifts involved the same kind of power output, created seemingly without toil—but they wouldn’t last like the things I created would. My self-image recovered a little.
“Lea,” I asked, “did you bring my bag?”
Glenmael opened the trunk and brought it over to me. The Swords in their scabbards were still strapped to the bag’s side. I picked it up and nodded. “Thanks.”
He bowed, smiling. I was tempted to tip him, just to see what would happen, but then I remembered that my wallet had been in my blue jeans, and was now, presumably, part of the new outfit. Maybe it would reappear at noon tomorrow—assuming I was alive to need it, I mean.
“I will wait here,” Lea said. “When you are ready to travel to the first Way, Glenmael will take us there.”
“Right,” I said. “Let’s go, princess.”
“Of course, Sir Knight,” Susan said, her eyes sparkling, and we went into the church.
39
Sanya was guarding the door. He swung it open wide for us, and studied Susan with a grin of appreciation. “There are some days,” he said, “when I just love this job.”
“Come on,” I said, walking past him.