Page 46 of Kiss the Fae

“Not even close: coffee.”

“That was my second guess.”

“I bet it was. Speaking of hot drinks, where’s Moth? She promised to drown me in verbena tea.”

“For the same reason I attended to you, no doubt.”

“Something like that,” I answer.

“Fauna duties required her attention,” he says, as if I’m supposed to understand that. “I relieved her of the burden in dealing with you, providing that I promise you don’t—”

“Touch or take anything? I got her warning.”

“What else did you get from her?” Cerulean peers at me. “An edge in the game?”

Moth identified my location. She tossed me a bone about Middle Moon. She said the Fae are reporting my progress to one another, if not observing the game for themselves. Nothing extreme, but it’s more than I knew yesterday.

I tick my head toward the exposed clench of his torso. “She told me you don’t like to wear turtlenecks.”

“What’s it like to lie? I’m on tenterhooks,” he inquires.

“What’s it like to imitate our lies?” I counter.

Cerulean gives me a dirty look. “Imitating you is the last of a Fae’s ambitions. Did you bribe Moth with mortal goodies? Trying to unearth the mountain’s secrets and, thus, skew the odds in your favor? She has a weakness for baubles.”

“Is that a crime?”

“Eternal damnation comes to mind, or a refreshing dip in the brimstone bog. That shall discipline her.”

“Ever heard of a good old-fashioned scolding?”

“And you call us lazy.”

“Lemme spell it out, you prick,” I snap. “If you hadn’t sent a manic flock of hornets after me, I’d have taken shelter elsewhere.”

“Yes. I did that, didn’t I?”

Silly me, I’d been searching for a shred of decency. In any case, I pick up on his airy tone. He’s got some sort of camaraderie with Moth and won’t lay a finger on her.

“What did you say to Moth at The Parliament of Owls?” I broach. “You were arguing about me in your language.”

“It’s called Faeish,” Cerulean supplies. “Moth repeated herself, venting that you were lying about being unafraid of Faeries. Quite frankly, I told her I doubted it very much.” He tips back the rest of the chalice, then flicks it into the fire, the vessel shattering into chunks and then vanishing. “Since you’re here, you can listen.”

I perk up. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll talk back.”

“Moth grudgingly implied you were snarky but tolerable. She was covered in an obscene amount of trinkets when I relieved her. So I ask again, was this a tactic to charm details out of Moth?”

“Maybe I was being polite.”

“To a contentious Fae who would sooner see you peeled to the bone.”

“I don’t attack unless threatened. I’m not gonna lower myself to your level. There’s this thing called humanity. Not that you monsters know what that means.”

Cerulean swings upright. His heels click against the floor as he pitches forward, crossing his arms over his knees. “Indulge me then,” he drawls. “Where was that humanity nine years ago? Hmm?”

I tense. Guess we’re doing this now. “I can’t speak for my elders. I was a tyke when The Trapping happened.”

“And I expected more from you than that.”

---