beginnings. They offer a great amount of energy for a spell. A witch or warlock who intends the least harm will pull from plants, vegetation, and animals only when they must. A user of dark magic or a desperate practitioner of magic will use people.”
“Surely not?”
Fionn nodded, grim faced, and then he began to walk again. Rose hurried to keep up with his long-legged pace. “There are councils,” he continued, “that keep them in check. Bring dark-magic users to justice. But they can be corrupt. The Blackwoods are on the North American Council and although it cannot be proven, I know they use dark magic. They used it to bring me back just as the druids used it to send me into slumber for over a millennium. Nothing else would have sufficed.”
“They sacrificed a human?”
He glared straight ahead as they stepped onto a moving walkway. “Five girls, representing north, south, east, west, and center, offered themselves up in sacrifice to the druids to put me to sleep.”
Holy crap. “You’re kidding.”
“Five was a sacred number to the druids. The girls believed their spirits would be rewarded in death.”
“They allowed girls to die for you even though they hated what you’d become?”
“The sacrifice was to honor the king I’d once been,” he replied, and there was no hiding the bitterness in his tone this time.
Rose flinched inwardly. He’d sacrificed everything for his people, and they’d betrayed him for it. “And to wake you up?” Her question was almost a whisper.
“As I had unwillingly been put to sleep, they killed an unwilling warlock to bring me back.”
She felt a muddle of strong emotion pouring out of him. “They bother you … even more than the fae. Witches, warlocks.”
He looked down at her, his countenance hard. “Make no mistake, Rose; the fae are infinitely more dangerous than a mere witch or warlock. And let’s face it, witches and warlocks do not differ from ordinary humans who have sacrificed much in the pursuit of power.”
Rose frowned as they stepped off the walkway. “If you disdain humans so much, why try to save them from the fae?” She walked fast to keep up with him. “Fionn?”
He halted below the departure and arrival screens. “Because,” he said, his deep voice rumbling as he studied the screens, “the corrupt powers may influence this world, but they make up a percentile of a population of people, most of whom are good. The world has grown complicated.” He turned toward Rose, his expression so fierce it made her temperature rise. “So complicated, it’s hard for them to feel like they’re good. I see it. I see how lost they are. And I don’t know if they’ll ever find their way or if corruption will bring them down as it once did civilizations before them. But I have hope. I have a purpose. Without either, we’re nothing. Even if I’m wrong to hope, what choice do I have but to continue to do so?”
A sweeping, powerful feeling of admiration and longing that Rose had tried to keep minimized flooded her. How could she feel so much for someone she’d only met? It was ludicrous. And yet it was true.
Surprise flickered in the depths of Fionn’s green eyes, and she realized he’d seen something of what she was feeling in her expression.
He looked away, a muscle ticking his jaw. “The train will be here soon.” His tone was dismissive.
Deflated Rose turned from him.
It was unlike her to allow her emotions to overwhelm her. It was unlike her to attach feelings to strangers.
And Fionn was a stranger.
Even if he didn’t feel like one.
Even if he felt like that elusive something she’d been searching for her whole life.
Inwardly she scoffed at the stupidly romantic and naive notion. Fionn wasn’t here to sweep her off her feet like some moronic damsel in distress. He was here to teach her to protect herself.
Perhaps it was time she started taking that seriously because who she was meant she had to protect herself from everybody.
Even Fionn.
He wasn’t lying. He did have hope. He did have purpose.
Just not the noble kind Rose assumed he meant.
Something niggled at him as he pretended to study the departure screens. An uneasiness.
Guilt.
Not guilt, he snapped at that annoying whisper. Fionn didn’t feel guilt. It was just uncomfortable to sense Rose’s emotions and find admiration in them, to see her look at him with something akin to fucking hero worship.
And attraction. He’d felt that too and seen it in her eyes as she stared