Page 49 of Another Damned Storm
He turned and walked a few paces before circling around and coming back, though he ended up noticeably farther away. “Let’s save that detail for a later date.”
“Let’s not.” I knew evasive when I saw it, and there was something he didn’t want to tell me. “What, did you have to kill a genie to get here? Because last I checked, that curse your dad and his cronies put on you didn’t give you a hell of a lot of wiggle room.”
I also knew I wasn’t the one who summoned him this time. That was my intention. At least to try. But I hadn’t made it that far when he materialized in front of me. That was another weird thing.
When he flashed, it was instantaneous. He was there, then he wasn’t. Or vice versa. When he showed up in the park, it was like a void in space opened up and pulled a billion tiny particles of the human realm together to create him right there in front of me. I’d just been too damned excited to see him to care.
“Never.” He shook his head. “This can wait.”
With that tone? “I don’t think it can.”
Frustration blasted hot through our connection, but was I also picking up on a little guilt?
“What did you do to get here?” I asked. “Did you steal magic? Or make a deal?” Oh, shit. Please tell me he didn’t make a deal. There were so many ways a bargain could go wrong.
The silence that followed made my ears ring. He looked away.
Man, he really did not want to tell me.
“Pixie dust,” he admitted quietly, as if lowering his volume would lessen the blow.
My heart sank. He made a deal with the glitter bitch?
I blinked, but I didn’t even have time to fully process what I was feeling before he added, “I killed Anya and used her magic to come find you.”
Oh.
I got the sense he wanted to come closer and wrap me up in his arms, but he kept his distance. Probably a smart move since my emotions were ricocheting off each other and my brain was struggling to catch up.
It was the kind of news that should have made me happy. I hated that wretched little bug. We’re talking a full-on, enemies-list-for-eternity kind of hate.
But if it was that easy—why had it taken him days?
“I was only recently made aware that a pixie’s magic could be used in such a way,” he said, clearly sensing what I was feeling and thinking.
That still wasn’t fair. I was lucky if I could pick up on vague emotions coming through our link, but if I wasn’t careful, he could basically hear my thoughts.
And he was made aware? Someone had to tell him how to use pixie dust? “You had a visitor?”
He rolled his bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “A demigod named Criton.”
“Wait.” I held up my hands. “A god dropped in on you in the Nassa? Way to bury the lead.” That was a huge deal, especially since Hook had told me a while ago how long he’d been trying to get the gods and the council to hear him. “What did he want?”
“The dust. He sensed Anya’s death in some way and came to collect her remains.”
“What, was he planning on shaking the dust out of herwings?” The visual was mildly amusing, but I was obviously missing something.
“When a pixie dies, her body breaks down into its base magical element. Rather quickly, it would seem.”
I wrinkled my nose. “So, when you said you used her magic?” I asked, eyeing him.
He nodded. “I mixed a small amount of the dust from her remains with the enchanted sea water from the Nassa.”
“You... drank her?” That was a little gross, right? Like, I knew the magical world had its own rules and all, but that had a pretty high yuck factor.
Then again, I ate chicken. And I had once imagined carving off her wings and making jewelry out of them.
So, maybe swallowing a little magical dust wasn’t that grotesque.
