Come evening, Seth had cleaned away the evidence of his loss of temper. He’d reordered the house and his feelings. Being without her wasn’t something he wanted to even consider. There had to be an answer—but he didn’t have one.
He’d find it, though. He wasn’t going to lose everything.
Not now. Not ever.
He sent Aislinn a text—“need space. ttyl”—and then paced around the house. Its size didn’t usually bother him, but today it felt constricting. He didn’t want to go out, to see faeries and pretend all was well. He knew what he didn’t want, what he did want—everything but how to make it happen. Until he came up with some sort of a plan, being around faeries—seeing what he wasn’t—felt like cruelty.
So when one of the court guards knocked on the door to ask if Seth was staying in or going out, Seth said, “Go home, Skelley.”
“You sure you don’t want to go grab a drink? Or we could come inside…not for long, but in shifts…”
“Space, man. That’s what I need tonight,” Seth said.
Skelley nodded. He stood there for a moment longer, though. “The girls didn’t mean harm. They just”—he paused as if the words he needed weren’t quite familiar—“are fond of you. It’s like your serpent.”
“Like Boomer?”
“He makes you happy by his presence?”
“Yeah.” Seth cracked a grin at that. “Boomer being here makes me happy.”
“You make the girls happy with your presence.” Skelley looked so earnest that it was hard to find him anything but kind as he stood in the iron-heavy railroad yard, even though he likened Seth to a pet snake. “They were worried you’d go away like Niall did.”
Seth wasn’t sure if he should feel comforted that Skelley was trying to soothe him or insulted that he was being compared to a pet boa constrictor.
Or both.
Mostly, he was amused. Carefully keeping his amusement from his face, he gave Skelley a nod. “That is…interesting to know.”
The exceptionally thin guard had a gentle streak. Most of the guards wouldn’t come to the door talking about feelings. Skelley was an anomaly. “You are liked in the court,” he added. “Our queen is happy by your being with her.”
“I know that.” Seth lifted a hand in a wave at the other guards at the edge of the yard. “But right now, I need to crash. Go relax or whatever.”
“We’ll be here.”
“I know.” Seth closed the door.
A few restless hours later, he’d tried to sleep. It didn’t work: he was too keyed up. He tried to burn energy: push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups on the bar in the walkway. It was futile. I need air.
He looked at his clock: just past midnight. The Crow’s Nest was still open. In a matter of minutes he was dressed and lacing his boots. His cell buzzed as another text came in. He looked at it: “CYT?”
Am I ready to see her tomorrow?
Usually, it wasn’t a question. He didn’t think it had ever been a question. Would she know about the park? Would she ask about Niall? Would she want to talk about Keenan?
He wasn’t sure he’d be ready to deal with any of that. He wanted a plan, a way to reach Sorcha, a way to make things better; talking to Aislinn about everything that wasn’t right didn’t feel like the best answer. He didn’t respond to her message. He wanted to; he wanted to call her right then. Instead, he laid the phone down on the counter.
If I don’t have it, I can’t call or answer.
Resolved, he walked toward the Crow’s Nest. He saw three guards following him, but he refused to acknowledge them. The knowledge that he was babysat so incessantly was more than he could handle just then.
One guard came inside the Crow’s Nest, found it free of faeries, and left. Seth knew that they watched both doors. That was the closest to distance he’d be getting.
It’s not enough.
After almost an hour sitting by himself, Seth admitted that he was sulking. He hadn’t really been thinking about a plan. He’d seen friends, people who didn’t come around as much since he and Aislinn had started dating, but he didn’t talk to them.
Damali was there again, not singing, but just hanging out. He caught her eye and smiled, and she came over with two beers, hers mostly empty already. “You free now?”