them into a lush room with a roaring fire that put off no heat but added ambiance. “Have a seat, please.”
Several ornate chairs and one chaise framed the center of the room in a conversational grouping. Midas sat in a chair that put his back to a wall and gave him a view of the door. He sighed with relief when Hadley sat on the spindly arm of his chair rather than accept the unspoken invitation to join the man on the chaise.
“There’s a witchborn fae coven killing my people,” Hadley started, “and I need your help to stop them.”
“Necromancers, you mean?” He flicked a glance at her shadow. “Or do I misunderstand?”
Midas frowned at the darkened outline stretching across the floor, but it was just that—a shadow.
“The people of Atlanta,” she ground out between her teeth. “All the people of Atlanta.”
“Fae are immune to Faete,” he countered her. “Witches too. The coven wanted to be certain it couldn’t be turned against them.”
“You’re telling me since it can’t hurt you, it’s not your problem.” Hadley vibrated with rage. “How nice it must be to sit on your nice chair in your nice house and know you’re safe.”
“It is rather nice, now that you mention it.” He toyed with the curling ends on the whip. “I could make it nice for you too. Help you forget your worries.” He smiled, and it was cruel. “Help you forget yourself, your past.”
“The past is what brought me here. It’s what shaped me. I’m not giving up a minute of it.”
Leaning forward, he purred, “Are you that afraid of what you might become otherwise?”
“I made mistakes, and I paid for them. I don’t need those erased to be aware of what I’m capable of and how dangerous that makes me. I’ve always known. The potential for evil has always been in me, and you can’t change that. Only I can.”
“Hmm.” A frown creased his brow. “You keep your sins close as a reminder, as a punishment.”
“We’re done here.” She glanced back at Midas, a warning in her eyes, then back to their host. “Thanks for wasting our time, Ruel.”
The use of his name did it. Froze the smirk on his mocking lips, darkened his laughing eyes into pits that yawned full of terrible endings.
“What did you call me?” The tips of his fingers lengthened into talons. “Who told you my name?”
His Name, whispered once into his ear as a child and then forgotten, the one that held power over him.
Midas let his magic hum beneath the surface of his skin, let it burn in his eyes.
“Ruel,” she said again. “That is your name, isn’t it, Ruel?”
Possession of his name was dangerous enough. To use it three times was binding.
“You will regret this inhospitality.” His glamour rippled, distorted. “You were an amusement, but now I see I was wrong.” The bottom half of his body shivered, exposing birdlike legs and claws. “You’re an annoyance.”
“You forced my hand.” Hadley sounded tired. “All I wanted was your help.”
“Command it of me,” he growled. “Then be gone.”
The promise of violence saturated the air, a vow that vengeance would be his for this insult.
“I used your name to get your attention.” She strained toward him. “I don’t want to force you to comply. I want you to cut the crap and bargain with me so I can get back to the people who need me.”
Silence lapsed while Ruel considered her, and then he crossed his taloned legs.
“I will give you the sight,” he said slyly. “I will give it to your mate as well.”
“Leave Midas out of this,” she warned. “This bargain is between you and me.”
“Give me back my name, let me erase it from your mind, and I will open your eyes.”
Midas had to admit, as far as bargains went, this was a straightforward one. On the surface. But fae were masters of exploitation.
“The bargain is struck,” she said before Midas could warn her to slow down, to think his phrasing through.
Rising with sinuous grace, Ruel approached them. He knelt at Hadley’s feet in a mockery of subjugation.
“This won’t hurt.” He raked his fingers through her hair, his claws scratching her temples. “There we go.” He smiled at Midas. “I’ll just take what’s owed.”
Black motes glittered on his fingertips when he lowered his hand, and he blew them across the room with a long breath, scattering them like seeds from a dandelion, his name lost on the wind.
“But this will.” Ruel chuckled as he stabbed her between