Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,20
of the Morrigan, sworn into service by the Unseelie House, swear that no harm will befall you by my hand or any other’s as long as you enjoy my hospitality.”
Tempted as I was to nibble, I still didn’t take his bait. His vow hinged on him being the Morrigan’s son. Twice now he claimed to be Raven. Fae were tricky, but there was zero wiggle room in his statement.
I am the Morrigan’s son is a concrete statement of fact. Okay, so, following that logic, this guy must be Raven. How he got here or what his plans were I wouldn’t know unless I took him at his word and entered his apartment, which had Very Bad Idea written all over it.
I worried my thumbnail with my teeth. This lead might crack our case and fling open an even bigger one. A Faerie prince here? Without proper documentation? The magistrates would lay golden eggs when they found out.
“I vow I will return you to this spot, where you surrendered yourself into my most humble care, unmolested, under identical conditions to the ones from which you left. Do these terms please you?”
Raven offered his hand again, and this time I sucked in a sharp breath and took it.
He guided me over the threshold into his empty living room and shut the door behind us.
All the other doors stood open. All the other rooms sat empty. “Can I ask an honest question?”
“As long as you don’t expect an honest answer.”
My head whipped toward him. “Was that a joke?”
“That question is only asked when the joke fails to perform.” Raven snapped his fingers, and a faded couch resembling the one in my living room appeared. He led me to it. “Have a seat. I want you to be comfortable.” He noticed my preoccupation with his sofa. “Your roommate is sleeping. You are away. I see no reason why we can’t use your couch, do you?”
“I— No.” There was comfort in the familiar, especially under such peculiar circumstances. “This is fine.”
I sat on the middle cushion, amused when a familiar spring poked me in the butt. Raven perched on the arm closest to me. Despite his posture and casual clothes, he evoked this primal fear response in me. As if death were more hideous because of his beauty, and I had zero doubts Raven was a killer.
His stillness unnerved me, made me feel like a field mouse trying to outmaneuver a bird of prey who saw the landscape unfurling for miles but afforded me the luxury of running myself to exhaustion before he swooped in for the kill.
Raven tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Your father is missing.”
I sank deeper into the sofa. “What does that have to do with me?”
“He brought balance to the lands of Faerie. Now is a dangerous time for scales to be tipped.”
“I can sympathize, but I’ve never met my father.” I shrugged. “I have no idea where he is.”
“We are aware of that. We don’t expect you to find him. It’s more we were hoping you might be persuaded to act in his stead. Only one of his bloodline may take his place, and you are the only known child of Macsen Sullivan.” He paused. “We are not without resources. You will be compensated.”
Caution lent my voice a sharp edge. “Who is we?”
“I speak for House Unseelie.”
Another statement. This one more malleable, but I let it slide. “What is their stake in this?”
“Balance must be maintained.” Power thrummed in his voice. “It was your father’s duty to serve the fae realm and now, as his only child, I offer you his position. If only temporarily.”
“You said he went missing. Why are you acting like he’s dead?”
“When old creatures go missing in Faerie, it is because they do not wish to be found.”
The pressure in my chest eased. “So he might be taking a vacation from court life?”
One year in the field and my job frustrated me. After millenniums of casting irrefutable judgments upon those condemned by the Faerie High Court, of which my father was a founding member, I would be ready for a break too.
Raven cast a meaningful look my way. “He has done so once before.”
Right. He took a position once with the Earthen Conclave, spent a few months here and met Mom.
Would she want to know Mac had gone missing? Would she care? Or would she worry he might be here and hadn’t come to visit? Maybe this was what Mac did. Maybe he had a