Page 70 of Crown of the Fae King

Two older men stopped short, caught by surprise. Then they hemmed and hawed and asked us if we’d like to join them for dinner.

The Persi who sweetly declined for us both was a Persi I hadn’t seen before. Her Wyoming was showing. And when the men walked away, toward the dock, I knew they didn’t feel the least bit slighted.

We made it back to the cars, and I still hadn’t shaken off that feeling of being watched. While we waited for the rest of our party to finish shopping, I tried to convince myself it was nothing, that Persi’s red curls fascinated a lot of people, and that Everly drew attention, even if she was leaning back on a car with her eyes closed, absorbing the warmth of the sun.

Finally, when Wickham had counted noses and made sure everyone was accounted for, I was out of time. I had to decide. I thought of his wife and children, of how they might just cease to exist, if something happened to him. And I figured it might cause a lot of trouble for nothing, but…

“Sorry. I have that feeling again. I think we’re being watched.”

He nodded, then turned and asked Urban a banal question, as if he’d already forgotten what I’d said. But then I noticed him gesture to the dock, then up the road toward the city square. Urban followed his lead and the two of them scanned the entire horizon as they pretended to discuss Lymington.

I had Hank on me and wished I hadn’t snatched him up at the last second. If there were fairies watching, following… I shuddered at the thought and had to remind myself that the female from Trinity hadn’t sensed him, even though she’d been standing less than five feet away.

Maybe it was simply pickpockets watching a handful of people too well dressed for a casual day at the beach…

We loaded up and started home without any instructions from Wickham. But whatever he had planned, I supposed I didn’t need to know the details.

The traffic died down to nothing as we made our way through rural Hampshire. I was given a seat up front to avoid motion sickness, which meant I had the luxury of a side mirror. And as I watched other cars turn off the main road, one car remained, ostensibly headed in the same direction.

Small, orange, and old. Three passengers at least.

It would get close, then back off. Our three cars spread out along the road, offering plenty of space for passing, but it never passed. When Wickham and the brothers were in the lead once more, he suddenly pulled off to the left, down a narrow lane that disappeared beyond an ancient grove of trees.

The minivan followed, and Kitch turned after. I watched my mirror. The car came up to the turnoff, slowed, then came our way just as we passed beneath the trees.

Kitch turned off to the right, parking beside Wickham’s car, the minivan parked further on. Wickham, Urban, and the brothers were already out of their car, standing like a welcoming party in the clearing. All holding small knives with bright silver blades. Everly stood next to the minivan, her hands in the pockets of her wide-legged pants, her feet braced apart.

I jumped out but stayed between the cars, not wanting to be in the way. The Youngs and the Bahri sisters stayed in the van. Persi joined Everly. Alwyn, and Kitch joined the semi-circle of men.

The orange car came through the trees, slowed, and stopped. It looked like an antique toy that had been abused for decades. Faced with such a formidable welcoming party, I expected the driver to throw it into reverse and burn rubber, praying he’d get away. Instead, all four doors opened, and four skinny goons got out. Only the driver seemed confident.

Probably because he held a gun.

“Look you,” he said to Urban, assuming the biggest man was in charge. “We’ll be takin’ a set of these twins with us. We’ll even let ye chose which.” He grinned at his accomplices who hesitantly grinned back.

“Those girls might fit better in the car, as a point of fact,” said his friend from the passenger side.

Persi caught my attention and gave me a nod. I sensed she wanted a distraction so she could disappear, so I shouted, to draw our stalkers’ attention. “Is there some reason you want a set of twins?”

One of the backseat boys got bold. “Ye’ve got four sets, now. Why would anyone need four sets?”

“Seriously,” I said, coming around the front of the car to lean against the hood. “Maybe if you tell us why you want them, we can give you a good deal.”

The four exchanged looks and nods, then the driver shook his head. “This here gun says I don’t need to negotiate. Just pass them over and we’ll be on our way.”

“Fine.” I shrugged like it didn’t make much of a difference to me. “You can have the girls, but you have to explain first.” Persi had disappeared, so I bought her as much time as I could. The others stood back, weapons at the ready, but willing to wait for Persi to make a move.

The driver stumbled, like he was drunk, but quickly recovered.

“We don’t want them for ourselves,” the other backseater said, then was smacked by his friend.

“Then what you do you want them for?”

The driver realized no one was budging until he explained. “A bloke’ll pay good money for ‘em. Any age, male or female. In fact,” he lifted his chin, “I reckon we’ll take two.”

I laughed again. “That’s going to be a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

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