flutter of wings. A taste settles on my tongue, soft and sweet as honeysuckle. Then a light, even brighter than Derrick, flies to Daniel. It stops to hover in front of him. Those tiny wings on its back snap and flutter as it says something in its language, its voice as lyrical and flowing as chimes.
The faery’s halo is too brilliant to reveal its features, but it’s smaller than a pixie, no taller than one of my fingers. Teine sionnachain, a will-o’-the-wisp. The wee creature is exactly how Kiaran described them. They’re rural dwellers with an inherent dislike for city lights and noise. I’ve never seen one before. They’ve always stayed on the outskirts of the city, hidden in trees or caves.
Daniel nods in my direction and addresses the faery. “You know what to do,” he says.
So my companion is a Seer. That explains the missing eye; a faery must have taken it.
Whatever he’s told that wisp to do . . . I begin to struggle then, tugging hard at the chains. They groan with my efforts. I pull again, but there’s no give in the rock, not even a grinding to indicate I’ve loosened it.
I can’t be at the mercy of any faery, not like this. Not ever again.
“Wait,” I say. I can’t form a coherent sentence. I can’t think. “Wait, don’t—”
The faery flies to me and I yank at my shackles, straining away from the creature. Damnation.
“Be still,” the wisp says in that voice like chimes.
It lands on my thigh, its light fading to reveal a wee humanoid creature with pointed ears and wide black eyes. Its skin is dark and smooth as onyx, glistening with what looks like flecks of mica. Golden-veined wings like a dragonfly’s fan behind its body.
The creature looks harmless. I know better. Even the smallest fae are capable of killing a human or causing plenty of damage.
If you really are the girl I grew up with, then I’m sorry for this.
The wisp lays its hands on my thigh, and its power flows over me like warm rays of sunshine. “I like this one, taibhsdear,” it sings to Daniel, petting my wrist. “She smells like fire. Can I keep her?”
“We have a truce,” Daniel says. “Your kind doesn’t get to keep humans.”
The faery pouts. “I could offer you something for this one. A wish, ma thogras tu. Whatever you desire.”
“No,” he replies sharply.
The faery lowers its lashes, but not before I see the flash of anger cross its features. It doesn’t like being commanded by a human. What kind of place is this, that a faery would do anything for a Seer? That they would have such an agreement?
“Gavin said there were no exceptions to this test. Why?” I say. My voice shakes. I hate that it shakes.
“We made the mistake of indiscriminately allowing human survivors into our last location,” Daniel says, watching the wisp in displeasure as it moves to stroke my arm. “We won’t make it again here.”
I start as the wisp turns over my palm and licks my hand, wrist to fingertip. “Tastes like ashes,” it murmurs. “Like burning.”
I freeze. All I can think of is Lonnrach’s lips against my skin, his mouth smeared with my blood. You taste like death.
I squeeze my eyes shut, only for a moment. You’re not there. You’re not there. You’re not his.
“I’m not under control of the sìthichean,” I tell him. “I swear I’m not.”
“Gavin said you were in the Sìth-bhrùth. Three years, our time.” I’m so unaccustomed to Daniel’s rolling accent that it takes me a moment to understand him.
“Aithinne rescued me—”
“They could have let you escape. The fae take humans and break into their minds. Then they send them to find us, hoping that we’ll betray our location by offering shelter. But there’s one way to test fae influence,” he murmurs, watching me. “They leave an imprint in your blood. It makes a human feel only pleasure from a faery, never pain.”
I go cold inside. I recall Lonnrach’s hand on my wrist, his finger trailing down my cheek. I want to know everything. I just need to use your blood to see.
No, I can’t be under his control. I can’t be, I—
The fae take humans and break into their minds.
My body goes still. I accepted his food. I accepted his drink. He’s been in my head, he’s had my blood, he’s taken my memories, he’s left his mark on me.
You lose. Now you’re mine.
“That didn’t happen,” I whisper.
Or did it? I swear Lonnrach