Page 8 of Alice Worth and the Elite Death Machine

These foes are beyond the ability of even your great pack.Thefaoladhkissed my forehead, as a parent might kiss a child.I admire your courage and your kind heart. They serve you well. Your strength is needed to protect your pack. I will protect my charge.

At least tell me who else is after you. If any of us run into them, I want to know what we’re up against.

He studied me.You will not seek them?

I just want to know what kind of threat is lurking in my city.

I believe the demon was sent by one of the Dark Fae, who desire the youngfaoladhfor their Court’s dining table. Our pure blood and flesh is a delicacy for the fae.

A demon working for the Dark Court? Or rather, the Dark Court hiring a demon to do their dirty work? I’d always believed a fae would never deign to associate with anything from the demon realm. They were notoriously snooty. Then again, maybe the fact no fae was supposed to travel to the human realm anymore meant they needed lackeys. And iffaoladhwere as thin on the ground as Sean said, a young one might be such a rare treat that they were willing to stoop to recruiting demons. Necessity often led to strange bedfellows. No one knew that better than I did.

I had a much more pressing concern, however.If you didn’t kill the demon, who did?

He was killed by anúlfheðnar.Thefaoladh’stone made it clear whatever that was, it was something very, very bad—something worse than a demon or a Dark Fae. I hadn’t thought there was anything worse than a Dark Fae.

I wanted to know more about this strange new threat, but I sensed both our connection and his patience were waning fast.

What’s your name?I asked.

You may call me Conor.He kissed my forehead again. This time, I felt a tingle of golden magic.So I may know you, he said before I could ask.

Be safe, Conor.

You as well, Alice.He released me.

I shot back through the trace with a yank like a rubber band snapping. The threads of white-golden magic I’d used to track him swirled and disappeared.

I opened my eyes and blinked until I could focus. As always, after all the sensation of travel, it was jarring to find myself stillin my basement, sitting cross-legged with the now-empty crystal in my palm.

“Alice?” Malcolm floated outside the circle. “It didn’t work, did it? How’s your head?”

“No, it worked.” My voice wasn’t quite steady. “It actually totally worked. I met him.”

“Youwhat?!” He flitted around the circle. “Alice! How? What?How?”

“Hang on.” I lurched to my feet, broke the circle, and staggered over to lean against my worktable. Even in the best circumstances, tracking spells left me dizzy and out of sorts.

Malcolm floated close and touched my forehead. His hand felt like thick, cold fog. “What the heck is this?”

“Not sure. He said it would help him know me.” Finally, the cobwebs seemed to be clearing. I checked my reflection in the small mirror over the table. In my second sight, I saw a shimmer of light golden magic in the shape of a rune I did not recognize.

Meanwhile, Malcolm almost tap-danced with impatience. “Wellllll?Who is this guy?”

“He said I could call him Conor. I don’t know if that’s his real name or not, but he sounded like a Conor.”

“Conor, huh? Sounds sexy.” He put his hands on his hips. “I want a full report.”

I told him everything, other than the fact Conor had asked me to be his mate. That detail did not seem important. Predictably, I stumbled over the pronunciation of the name of what had supposedly killed the demon.

“What is anulf-hef-whatsit?” Malcolm asked, then flitted. “Oh, heck—that’s the EDM, isn’t it? Maybe it’s another magical mystical shifter thing. Can you ask Sean?”

“I’m not even sure I can figure out how to spell it. If I tried to text him about it, Sean would probably just think I was typing random letters.” My perimeter wards tingled. Someonehad arrived at the house. “I might get to ask him in person momentarily, if that’s him pulling up.” I headed for the stairs.

“Did he leave his job site early?” Malcolm asked, floating along behind me. “Does that mean he’s got some information for us?”

“If it was just information, he would have called,” I pointed out as we reached the top of the stairs. “If he’s come home, he’s got something he’s worried about.”

“Great,” Malcolm muttered. “If he’s worried now, just wait til he sees that magic hickey on your forehead.”

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