to her. She followed as the salamander pursued the stream of dandelion seeds, each on its own herbal parachute. There was a long ribbon of them stretching into the distance, dancing on that gentle breeze.
When they caught up to the end of the trail of them, Rania saw that each seed had changed: instead of a brown seed on each white tuft, it looked like there was a drop of ruby-red blood. No, not a drop. A tiny shard, like a sliver of red glass. She shivered at the sight, but her companion nodded approval, as if she had done particularly well.
The seeds swirled higher and she wondered where they would go, then what would happen when they arrived. The salamander was satisfied, though. He led her back toward the stone circle, purpose in his movement. Once they stood beside the dark abyss in the central cairn, he bowed his head to her, those scales glinting a little, then shimmered blue. The salamander vanished in a flash.
Rania didn’t know where he’d gone, but was in agreement with his choice. She’d dispensed with the poison behind the kiss of death, and she knew exactly where she wanted to be. She didn’t want to linger in this place, whether it was Fae or not.
She closed her eyes and willed herself to Hadrian’s side.
She had a second chance and she was going to make it count.
For the first time that she could remember, Rania felt a thrill of anticipation.
Rania didn’t see that the transformed seeds drifted until the mound of a hill rose in the distance. Merry music became discernible then grew louder as the seeds floated nearer. There was a party beneath the hill, a party at the Fae court, attended by hundreds of glittering Fae dressed in silver and red. Their wings arched high, their laughter echoed loudly, their mead flowed in quantity.
The seeds blew right through the open portal to the Fae court, almost as if they were dancing in time to the music. The seeds wafted high once they were through the portal, then they swooped low, caught in the currents of air in the court. The faceted red crystals of the transformed seeds caught the light and sparkled.
The first one fell on the exposed shoulder of a Fae dancer. Red light flared brightly from the point of impact for a fraction of a second, then a tiny port wine stain appeared on the skin of the Fae. It could have been a mole or a freckle, except for its color. The recipient barely noticed it, brushing one hand across the point of contact and continuing with the dance.
Thousands of seeds slowly descended upon the revelers. Most of the Fae didn’t seem to take notice of them. Others reached for them, as if they were toys to be gathered. A few opened their mouths to them, as children do with snowflakes. Each seed touched bare skin, each one giving a little pulse of light as it turned into a purple freckle and vanished.
All the while, the merry dance continued as if it would endure to the end of time.
Not fancy.
There was an understatement.
Maeve had a lot to answer for, to Sebastian’s thinking. Lynsay’s car was small and cramped. It was cold and less than comfortable.
Worse, his companion was a talker. Why did mortals insist on filling the air with their babble and their confidences? He’d never been chatty, even before he’d been turned, and he resented her conversation.
It interfered with his brooding.
He felt the thirst begin to gnaw within him as they drove away from the pub. Lynsay was the most convenient candidate to satisfy his need, but she was robustly healthy and she was doing him a favor. Choosing her as his victim felt wrong, and that made Sebastian irritable.
Was it Sylvia’s influence at root or Micah’s?
Either way, he needed to find better company.
Actually, he wouldn’t need company at all after this quest of Maeve’s was completed. He could lock himself into his beloved library and only emerge to feed as necessary. The solitude would be bliss.
“How do you know Hadrian MacEwan?” Lynsay asked.
“I don’t,” Sebastian acknowledged.
“But you’re looking for him.”
“I was entrusted with a package to deliver to him, by hand.”
“Oh! Something for his business?”
“You could say that.” Sebastian deliberately turned to look out the window, hoping that would end the conversation. He could smell her body lotion, a light feminine scent, but he was keenly aware of the aroma of her flesh beneath it, the pulse