He cut her an even darker look. “Fae can’t use it on fae. Now where was I?”
9
Before Fionn could continue his manipulation of Rose, a crawling sensation tickled down his spine. His pulse raced while a feeling not unlike dread filled his gut.
Danger.
Rose gasped. “Fionn … I feel weird.”
He looked in his mirrors and saw a black car traveling much too quickly toward them. He pressed his foot to the accelerator and weaved through traffic. “Do you know how they say animals have a sixth sense?”
“Yeah.” She turned to look over her shoulder and her lips pressed together. “We’re being followed?”
“We are. And the strange feelings you just had … never ignore those, Rose.” It crossed his mind in that second that maybe he shouldn’t tell her this, but if she was going to sense danger in him, she would have already. “The prickle across your neck and spine—fuck,” he bit out just as he missed clipping the front of someone’s car. The other driver hit their horn, hard.
“The racing heart, the dread in the gut … they’re warning signs. Of coming danger. You feel those things, you get ready to fight or to flee.”
She nodded frantically. “Who’s following us?”
Fionn flipped up the armrest between them where he’d put his cell. Driving with one hand, he dialed with the other and set it on speaker.
“You do know I sometimes need to sleep,” Bran complained as soon as he picked up.
“We’ve got a tail, Bran. Who the fuck is it?”
“Shit—”
The rest of his words were garbled as the black car caught up and slammed right into the back of them with such force, it sent them careening off the highway before Fionn could prevent it. Down the embankment the car went, juddering across a field.
Rose never made a peep, just sucked in her breath and held on.
Fionn watched in his mirrors as the black car pulled off just as theirs came to a stop.
He turned to tell her to unclip her belt but she was already doing it.
“Fionn!” Bran’s voice called from somewhere in the car.
Ignoring Bran, Fionn tried to manage their next move. If Rose traveled too far, she could end up somewhere without him. There was nothing before them but a stretch of field. But in the distance, straight ahead were trees and a cluster of houses.
It would have to do.
He pointed. “You see those trees, those houses?”
She nodded, surprisingly calm.
“Focus on them. Travel there. That’s where I’ll meet you.”
“Can’t you just poof us both?”
The roof of the car began to squeal as metal crunched and pulled. The air crackled with magic. “The fuckers are pulling off the roof,” he groused. “And no, Rose. I can’t poof you with me. You must do this. Focus.”
She gave him a tight nod, her lips pressed thin. Then she turned, stared out at the houses and trees in the distance, and then she was gone.
Fionn followed.
He appeared behind a tree and whirled around to find Rose. She was nowhere in sight. A cool breeze ruffled his hair as he strained to listen. Nothing.
Fuck.
“Rose?” he called softly.
Still nothing.
A feeling akin to panic filled Fionn, but that couldn’t be right. He hadn’t felt enough for anything or anyone in centuries to inspire emotions such as panic.
“Rose?” He walked toward the house that peeked out from between the trees. His heart raced. He was so close to finally having his revenge. The thought of losing Rose now was unthinkable.
Although that didn’t explain the rage he’d felt when she relayed her story of the frat-boy prick who’d tried to rape her. Then again, rape was a touchy subject for Fionn.
It reminded him that Rose had sensed his emotions. He’d only known one fae on Faerie who could do that as an actual ability. The only other people able to sense emotions in one another had been mated fae.
What was Aine thinking bestowing such a powerful ability on one of the children?
“Rose?” he bit out, growing angrier as his anxiousness increased.
A groan met his ears and he hurried toward the sound. Her scent caught on the wind and he followed that summery, light natural perfume to her.
She was sprawled in the dirt beside a tree, slowly pushing herself up.
“What happened?” He reached for her biceps and hauled her to her feet. The feel of her under his hands sent relief through him.
Rose seemed unable to meet his eyes. “I traveled too far and ended up in one of the houses.” She gestured behind them. “I popped right out of thin air in this woman’s kitchen. She started screaming bloody murder. In my panic to get out of there, I popped into someone else’s house and then popped out here and collided with this damn tree.”
The thought of Rose bumbling around in people’s houses with her newfound abilities was strangely amusing.
Her eyes narrowed on his mouth. “Are you trying not to laugh? You think this is funny?”
The incredulity in her voice was even funnier. His mouth twitched before he could stop it and he cleared the laughter from his throat. “Of course not. We’re being hunted. Why would that be fun—” Pain blasted through his upper shoulder, threatening to take him to his knees.
“Fionn!” Rose cried, lunging toward him as he stumbled.
Growling, he glared at the thick tree branch impaled through his shoulder before pushing Rose behind him and turning to face his attacker, keeping her hidden at his back.
Two warlocks, flecks of blue magic sparking at their fingertips, walked toward them through the trees, an arrogant swagger in their steps that suggested they had no idea who he was. They couldn’t be Blackwood warlocks. They would know who he was and wouldn’t pick a fight with a two-thousand-year-old fucking fae who could annihilate them.
Fionn took hold of the branch and pulled it out, ignoring the burn and the little flecks of splinters that broke out inside him. His fae blood would disintegrate those. The wound healed instantly, the pain gone.
The warlocks ducked as he launched the branch at them.
Fionn found himself in a difficult position. He could deal with these two permanently and possibly scare off Rose, or he could just knock them unconscious and risk them continuing their hunt.
The warlocks exchanged a wary look after studying Fionn. They’d stopped several feet away, and Fionn felt Rose move behind him as if she were trying to peek. He stepped to the side, blocking her, and when she tried the other side, he did it again.
He heard her small growl of annoyance and bit back amusement. She was a strangely entertaining female.
“What are you?” one of the warlocks asked, his accent distinctly Dublin in origin.
Suspicion niggled at Fionn.
“You drive my car off the road and stick a branch in me and expect me to answer your questions? What business am I to you?”