Page 59 of Hidden

Lila shook her head. “It’s usually the dark fae who get quirky like that.”

“Quirky,” Rafe muttered, dumping the pan’s contents into a garbage can. The silver bracelets rattled against the metal bin. “I’ll remember that description next time a phouka tries to make me its dinner.”

More porters passed by in the hall, this time carrying deep baskets heaped with fresh greens, carrots, and edible flowers. Preparation for the feast was already underway. Anticipation pulsed in the air, as if the way station itself was aware of new and busy people.

The tension put Lila even more on edge. Rafe looked up, a question in his eyes, as she shut the door to the hallway.

“I have a question,” she began, choosing speed over a subtle approach. They didn’t have much time.

Rafe leaned the broom against the wall and gave her his full attention. “Okay.”

“When you came here, how did you intend to identify the Magician?”

“Smell. He’s been here enough to leave his scent behind.” Rafe’s brow creased. “And he’s the type to injure another without a pang of conscience. Whatever their species, stone-cold killers eventually reveal themselves.”

Lila didn’t bother asking how. “What about his appearance?”

Rafe froze, as if suddenly making a connection. “I suppose I can say I’ve seen him.”

Lila felt her jaw drop, then snapped it closed. “Where?”

“In a video. Security tape from a club. Izetta had it on her phone.”

“What did he look like?”

Rafe shifted uncomfortably, as if embarrassed. “Like a fae. Long fair hair.”

“And we all look alike.” Lila sounded testy even to herself. “I’ve heard that one before.”

“The camera showed him from the back.” Rafe shrugged. “If Izetta returns, maybe she will do better.”

“If she returns?” Lila asked.

Rafe’s expression fell. “Every prisoner dreams of rescue.”

“If she comes with an army big enough to stop Lord Farras, I’ll throw confetti.”

He released a long breath. “If she was going to come, she’d have done it by now.”

Worry tightened his features. His friend had been badly hurt. Even if she’d reached the highway, she might not have survived. But if she’d made it and could bring back reinforcements?

Lila liked that idea. Escape. Coordinate an attack. Make a plan. If House Fernblade had trustworthy allies, Lila would be doing the same thing.

“This banquet may end badly,” she said softly. “Watch your back.”

“Will there be a fight?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

She almost laughed, but she’d seen what a shifter could do—and she might need him to do it. At first, she’d hated Rafe for wounding Ademar, but the wolf was caught in the web of a wider conflict. Just like her.

“I’m almost certain there will be a battle,” she replied. “But fae don’t always fight with the usual weapons.”

He brushed her hair aside with the back of his fingers, lightly touching her cheek. “Then you be careful, too.”

“As strange thing for a wolf to say to a fae,” she mused.

“You’re the best jailor I’ve had.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “And I thought we agreed to be allies.”

“We did.”

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