Page 19 of Court of Evil

Surprisingly, it’s the fae who answers. “Isn’t that obvious, seer? It is the same reason men do anything. He wants you.”

I frown. “Shamus hates me.”

Ronan snorts. “Sure, she is right about one thing, sweetness. It isn’t your problem to worry about. You need to rest. He made that clear before they came to collect him. He’ll be back after he has paid, and we can leave.”

“Until then, I seem to be stuck with ya,” the fae remarks. “Tea?”

It is rude to turn down a drink. Sliding to my feet, I eye her. “I must find him.”

“Smart indeed.” She smiles crookedly. “The tea was harmless, by the way. Wait a moment.” She turns away before handing me a small square. “For luck. I have a feeling you will need it, Tate Havelock. Where there is strength, there are those willing to take it.”

“How do you know my full name?” I whisper.

“I know everything about you. I saved you, after all,” she murmurs. “Go now.” Her gaze moves to the door behind me. “If you wish to find him, follow the crowd. It’s bound to be a big gathering. We do not get a human to play with very often.”

Ignoring Ronan, I hurry through the small, dark shop to the glass door. A bell tinkles as I open it and step out onto a cobbled street. Shops and houses line each side, looking every bit what I imagined the fae realm would look like. Glowing magic covers it all with beautiful colours and flowers, with equally beautifulpeople hurrying around. I follow them with my eyes, noticing a crowd gathering at the end, and Ronan steps up beside me.

“I forgot how annoying walking is. I keep walking into doors,” he mutters. “This will not end well. Shamus told me to protect you.”

“Then come with me,” I tell him, not really caring as I step out into the street and head towards the crowd. I hear him swear, and then he follows me. The throng gets thicker the farther we go, until we have to push our way through annoyed fae.

Ronan looks as worried as I am as we hurry through the crowd. “Who are you to him?” I ask.

“A friend,” he admits. “One of his only friends . . . His longest friend.”

“Wait, were you on the team he lost?”

Ronan simply turns away, but I know I’m right. How long has Ronan been haunting Shamus?

Honestly, I have so many questions, but the fae was right—we must find Shamus. I have a terrible feeling, and despite him being a pushy asshole, if what they said was true, he saved me.

That means I owe him. Even if I don’t like him, I repay my debts.

We finally push through the crowd and stand at the front of a square with a stone podium in the middle. What is happening in the middle makes my stomach roll.

There, with his hands and feet chained, is Shamus, my commander. His head is tilted back, speckled with his blood, and he is pale. His eyes are tight around the corners but open, and as I stare, open-mouthed, a glowing hand waves across his back. The fae’s entire arm actually glows as he uses his power like a whip and lashes Shamus’s skin. It tears open his skin, adding to the many other cuts. The deep slashes bleed, and some evenexpose bone. He jerks from the force, grunting, but he does not scream, and the hand waves again, carving another slice.

“Oh fucking hell.” I rush to the stone edge, but I’m dragged back.

“Don’t.” Ronan wraps me in his warm, surprisingly strong grip. “He knew the cost when he broke the treaty. If you stop this, they will have every right to kill him. Everything is survivable, but not his death. Do you understand?”

“No,” I snap. “You would watch your friend suffer while being publicly tortured?”

“It was his choice. I cannot make Shamus do anything. I never could,” he says, wincing as the next lash hits, the sound audible. “I do not like this either, but we are in a foreign realm where we are seen as enemies. We do not have rights here. If we interrupt, then we all end up dead.”

“For a ghost, you’re really afraid of death.” I elbow him, and he stumbles back. Before he can stop me, I leap onto the stone podium.

Enemies or not, no matter how much I do not understand, I cannot stand by and watch another be tortured because of me.

A woman with glowing purple eyes stands before Shamus. She turns as I rush across the stone, a knowing smile tilting up her lips as she watches me advance. She raises her hands, and I glance around to see soldiers leaping up. The lashes have stopped, however, and the male with the glowing hand steps back from Shamus.

“Angel, no!” Shamus snarls, his voice laced with annoyance and agony. “Do not stop this. I must pay the price. It is the deal we made. I will survive, they ensured it. They simply wish for my pain and humiliation. They can have it.”

“No, they cannot,” I argue before focusing on the fae woman, knowing she is the one I need to deal with.

“I needed to be healed, so I will pay the price,” I call.

“You speak of what you do not know, child,” she drawls.

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