“I’m…I’m not a spy.”

“Of course ye’re not.” He shook his head before I could speak again. “But all’s fair. I remember my promise that I would never look at yer memories without yer permission. But I’m askin’ for that permission now. I must. And ye must give it.”

“But there are things even I don’t want to recall. If you bother those memories, I’m afraid—”

“Lennon, ye’re no child. If I happen to rouse somethin’ unpleasant, ye’ll weather it. Ye’re livin’ proof ye’ve weathered if before. Besides, I shan’t need to dig deep. Just remember who ye are, what ye are. Ye’re surrounded by family and want for nothin’…except that blasted Fae. So,” he slapped his thighs, “time for that permission.”

I had to trust him. I had no choice. And if the worst happened, if he came across the most terrifying day of my life, those seconds when I first touched Hank with my bare fingers…well, he was right. I’d survived it before. I could do it again.

A mere memory couldn’t hurt me.

I rattled my head hard, until that vision was cleaned off the stage in my mind and tucked back into the depths of my brain. “Okay. What do I do?”

He sat forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Breathe deep, again and again. It will help ye relax.”

I realized the memory of what Randy Weaver had done to me wasn’t so deep in the past, and the thought of Wickham glimpsing even a snippet made me want to crawl under a rock. “I…I don’t think I can do this.”

“Remember, I only need to see recent memories. Verra recent. Not a moment before ye met me. I swear it.”

I believed him and let those deep breaths wash that stage clean again. After the third breath, I nodded.

Wickham smiled briefly, then looked into my eyes. When his eyelids closed, I felt a tickle in the back of my head, but I was sure I’d only imagined it. With nothing else to do but wait, the image of Griffon filled my mind. We were back at the stacks, in the library, where he promised that Fallon was safe. And I believed him.

He leaned down to kiss me…and Wickham cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. Since his eyes were still closed, I kept my mouth shut and waited it out, concentrating on nothing but the room around me. So big. So much blue...

Time slowed to a crawl, and I wondered if the inside of my brain was like a spiky mess of barbed wire, not easy to get through.

Wickham finally opened his eyes and sat back, a cryptic look on his face. The man was not at all pleased.

I glanced at the clock. Nearly fifteen minutes had passed. And judging from his expression, I wondered if I should make my way to the front door, just in case he’d found something damning in my gray matter. Something I didn’t know about.

“Apologies,” he said. “My abilities slow when I’m weary. Was up all night, ye ken.”

I pasted on a smile. “Well? Am I a spy and don’t know it?”

32

Buttery Betrayal

“Ye’re no spy,” Wickham said, though he didn’t seem overly relieved by that fact. “Now, be a dear and fetch Alwyn to me.”

I stood and headed for the door, pretending my wobbly knees could function.

He stretched out to catch my hand as I passed his chair, scaring the crap out of me. “And stay with me for it. I dinnae want to be alone with him…”

I snorted. “You can’t think it’s Alwyn.”

“What I think is that Meral and Reem never leave the house without one of us. They’ve never had a chance to be compromised. And I find it hard to believe a pinfeather can act as a microphone.”

“ButAlwyn?He’s been with you forever, with your family.”

“All the more reason for ye to sit in. I cannae trust myself to be reasonable.” At the door, he stopped me again with his voice. “Lennon.”

“Yeah?”

“What happened to ye in the taxi…”

I swallowed hard to keep the shame from choking tears out of me. “Yeah?”