approached but there was a Volkswagen Golf at the next. Fionn touched the license plate on the back of the car and concentrated on switching out a letter with another. He kept a hold on Rose as he did the same to the front license plate.
Sending electrical impulses into the mechanism with just a press of his palm to the door, he unlocked the car and ushered Rose into the passenger seat. He dumped his stuff in the back seat but kept his phone in hand.
As he got into the driver’s seat, he saw the front door to the house open. A stocky man flew toward them, face scrunched with fury, but Fionn was already speeding out of the driveway. Pulling out of the small neighborhood, he turned left, and then left again, following the signs that would lead them back onto the highway.
Fionn dialed Bran with his free hand and wasn’t surprised when he picked up on the first ring.
“Fionn, are you okay?” He sounded frantic.
“Fine. Two warlocks found us. They’re dead. But they weren’t Blackwood. I’m sure of it. I think they might have been O’Connor, and they wanted Rose dead.”
Again, he swore he could feel her tension rather than merely sense it.
What the—
“I’ll look into it and get back to you on that. For now, change direction. An Breitheamh went up for auction last night.”
Fionn bit back an expletive.
“The Blackwoods must suspect you’re going after it because they’ve got people at Venice Marco Polo Airport and people at El Prat airport in Barcelona. More than that, they’ve put in an offer. Along with a bunch of other powerful supes.”
Bloody hell, it would take them weeks to get back to Ireland at this rate. “When does the auction close?”
“Four nights from now.”
“Pull up train schedules from Ljubljana to Barcelona.”
“Just a second …” Fionn could hear Bran’s rapid typing. “Okay, there’s a train leaving in three hours for Ljubljana. It’ll get you to Milan. From there you’ll take a couple more trains to get to Barcelona. It’s about a day’s journey.”
Fionn sucked in a breath. Bloody brilliant. “Buy the tickets for me and Rose. First class if you can and then email them over.”
“You got it. She okay?”
Fionn flicked a look at her. Her color was returning to her cheeks, but he could tell she was lost in her thoughts. He had to hope he hadn’t damaged the tenuous trust between them by killing the warlocks. “Time will tell,” he answered honestly.
“Remember to feed her.” Bran hung up.
Fionn dropped his cell in the open armrest as they drove through Drnovo. Ljubljana was an hour away. “Are you hungry or can you wait until we get to Ljubljana?”
“What is An Breitheamh?” she turned to him. “And why are you really helping me?”
“I told you why.”
“You’ve killed. A lot. I can tell by the way you just brushed off their deaths like it was nothing.”
Hearing the judgment in her voice, Fionn ignored the pinch in his chest that felt remarkably like betrayal and pushed down the anger she inspired. “I was a warrior. Of course I’ve killed. And they were there to kill us. I turned their magic back on them, nothing more.”
Rose blanched.
Then, she sagged. “I know,” she whispered. “I know that. I’m sorry. But … no one helps someone out of the pureness of their heart. No matter how much they identify with them.”
That unwelcome but now familiar niggle of guilt reappeared, and Fionn stuffed it down inside himself too. He’d gotten good at controlling his emotions while living on Faerie but since meeting Rose, it was getting harder. “I’m trying to protect the world from the fae,” he blurted out the lie. “To understand, you need to hear the rest of the story.”
He flicked a look at her and watched as she squeezed her eyes closed, her features strained with stress. “It can wait,” Fionn surprised himself by saying. “Take this time to process everything that’s happened. We’ll pick up the story later.”
10
It had taken them an hour to drive to the capital city of Slovenia and in that time, no more words had been spoken between them. Fionn had meant it when he said he’d explain everything later.
Truthfully, despite the feeling Rose got that he’d insisted on waiting for her sake, she imagined he was kind of glad for the reprieve from conversation for a while too. He seemed more comfortable with silence.
Once in Ljubljana, Fionn abandoned the car near the train station, and Rose pondered when