they were and what they might be again."
"There are only a handful of us left in the world, Darkness." His voice was rising. "What harm could we do now?"
"If you did not need Meredith to free you from the curse, if you did not need her goodwill, the goodwill of some queen of faerie, what would you do to some human woman tonight, Fear Dearg?"
The Fear Dearg's eyes held such hate. I actually stepped back behind Doyle, and Frost moved so that I only saw the Fear Dearg between their bodies as I had at the beginning.
He looked at me between the two of them, and it was a look that made me truly afraid. He got to his feet, a little heavily, as if his knees ached from being on the sidewalk so long. "Not just human women, Darkness, or have you forgotten that once we rivaled your magic, and the sidhe were no more safe than the humans?"
"I have not forgotten that." Doyle's voice held rage. I'd never heard quite that tone in his voice before. It sounded of something more personal.
"There is no rule to how we get our naming from the queen," he said. "I have asked nicely, but she would name me to save herself and those babes inside her. You would let her name me to save them."
The two men closed ranks and I lost sight of the Fear Dearg. "Do not come near her, Fear Dearg, for it will be your death. And if we hear of any crimes on humans that smack of your work, we will see that you no longer have to mourn your lost greatness, for the dead mourn nothing."
"Ah, but how will you tell what is my work and what is the work of humans who carry the spirit of the Fear Dearg in their souls? It is not music and poetry that I see on the news, Darkness."
"We are leaving," Doyle said. We said good-bye to Wright and O'Brian, and the men got me into the truck. We started the engine but didn't leave until O'Brian and Wright were lost in the mass of police down the way. I think none of us wanted to leave O'Brian close to the Fear Dearg.
It was Alice in her Goth outfit who came out of the Fael and went to the Fear Dearg. She hugged him, and he hugged her back. They went back into the tea shop hand in hand, but he cast a look back over his shoulder as I put the SUV in gear. The look was a challenge, a sort of Stop Me If You Can. They vanished into the shop. I pulled carefully out into the street and the traffic, then said, "What the hell was all that about?"
"I don't wish to tell the tale in the car," Doyle said, with his death grip on the door and the dashboard. "You do not tell tales of the Fear Dearg when you are afraid. It calls them to you, gives them power over you."
To that I didn't know what to say, because I remembered a time when I thought the Queen's Darkness felt nothing, least of all fear. I knew that Doyle felt all the emotions everyone else felt, but admitting weakness, that he didn't do often. He'd said the only thing that could have kept me from questioning him on the way to the beach. I used the bluetooth to call ahead to the beach house and the main house to let everyone know that we were fine. That the only ones wounded were the paparazzi. Some days karma balances out instantly.
Chapter Fourteen
Maeve Reed's beach house sat above the ocean, half on the cliff and half resting on wood and concrete supports designed to stand up to earthquakes, mudslides, and anything else the Southern California climate could throw at the house. It sat in a gated community complete with a uniformed guard and a gatehouse. It was what kept the press from following us. Because they'd found us. It was almost a type of magic how they always found us again, like a dog on a scent. There weren't as many on the narrow curving road, but enough to stop and look disappointed as we went through the gates.
Ernie was at the gate. He was an older African American who had once been a soldier, but had been injured badly enough that his army career had gone away. He would never tell me what the