Page 30 of Crown of the Fae King

Kitch made a noise. “A thoosand? He admitted it?”

Wickham shrugged a shoulder. “He was there for the Battle of Hastings and old enough to take sides. I have met Fae too many times to count, now. There is no arguing the race exists, and that they have been here for longer than we can guess. As far as God is concerned, I shall ask His plan when I meet him again.”

“In a thoosand years?” Kitchens bit his lips together as if he wished he could take the question back.

Wickham looked him squarely in the eyes. “I was coerced into taking the job. I do not plan to keep it. If that means I die tomorrow, I die tomorrow.” He laughed. “And you’d all have to find a way to thwart this O’Ryan without me.”

I waved my hand to get his attention. “And he’s the bad fairy?”

“He’s the Fae we’re huntin’,” Urban said. “I’ve met him twice now. Once, when he’d followed Everly and I, after she killed two creatures in Oxford. Then again when he and his minions crashed a wedding, killed one of our own, and promised to return for us and our loved ones after he’s completed some…collection.”

Wickham cut in. “So we intend to prevent his success from happening in the first place.”

“But we don’t know what he’s up to?”

Discouragement was written on all their faces. Everly answered. “No. We don’t.”

“We have three mysteries to solve,” Wickham said, leaning his elbows on his knees again. “We must learn what O’Ryan is after, why Lennon is necessary to our endeavors, and what it is that frightened that fairy in the Trinity College Library so badly she was willing to sacrifice three gemstones in order to flee us.”

A laugh bubbled up inside me and burst free, then I couldn’t stop. Finally, the worry on Everly’s face sobered me up.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Two days ago, my priorities were catching up on my power bill, borrowing some duct tape to fix my work shoes, and hoping to sneak some food to my homeless friend. It’s like I’ve stepped through the mirror, into a different world.”

“Trust me,” she said. “You have. But at least you’re not alone in it.”

12

Invisible Friends

Islept fast and hard that night despite my three-hour nap before dinner. When Wickham shook me awake in the darkness, I was glad I’d stocked up. “What time is it?”

“Four o’clock local.”

“Is this a Scottish thing? Or is something wrong?”

“We must go and quickly. The Fae have struck. Witches are dead. We will try to pick up their trail.”

I was out of bed and pulling on my pants before I realized he was still in the room. Thankfully, it was dark and he was headed for the door.

“Dark clothes, if ye have them. Just a purse or a shoulder bag. We mustn’t stand out.”

I bit my tongue. If he thought a bunch of buff Scotsmen and a striking woman like Everly could blend into a crowd, he was fooling himself.

“Wickham?”

“Aye.”

“Where are we headed?”

“Italy.”

“Good.”

He glanced back.

I beamed. “Italy’s warm, right?”

The six ofus gathered in the living room, no one looking for keys or discussing breakfast, so I assumed we’d be travelling via Wickham Transit.

---