Glenn had an arm protectively around Tish.
“You coming out with us?” Tish couldn’t stand still. She might be more mortal than faery, but she had the Hound tendency to be always in motion.
Behind her, Glenn was immobile.
The club music came on to fill the silence while the band was on break.
Ani took her sister’s hands, and they danced near Glenn as they always had. It was different now. Before, Glenn had always looked at them like they were about to consume everyone’s good sense. Now, he watched Tish like she was his own personal heaven.
“I’m fine here,” Ani said as she swung Tish around so that Glenn had her back in his arms. “Go on.”
“Do you need my glasses?” Tish reached into the little bag she had slung over her shoulder. Emergency sunglasses had become a necessity since Ani started changing. The moment of green eyes earlier had been too close for Tish.
“Honest, I’m good.” Ani kissed her sister on the tip of the nose. “Go”—she caught Glenn’s gaze then—“and you take care of her, or else.”
Glenn snorted.
Tish stepped between them. She pursed her lips as she looked back at Ani. “You be good. Glenn’s our friend.”
“If she’s not treated like she’s made of china, if she gets even the teeniest bit hurt”—Ani reached out and caught Tish’s hand without looking—“it would be bad. That’s all I’m saying. You don’t want to meet my relatives.”
“I’ve been watching her back—and yours—for years.” Glenn’s demeanor changed to something softer. “I’d sooner step in front of a fist or knife or whatever than let Tish get hurt. You gotta know that by now.”
“Cool.” Ani hugged him. “Get off my dance floor then.”
Tish hesitated, so Ani grabbed the hand of a guy who was passing. “Dance?”
He nodded, and Ani led him into the center of the remaining crowd. She didn’t need to look to know that he was still watching—or that he’d heard every word she’d said. The admonition had been for him as much as for Glenn.
Fair warning. Fair chance to flee.
If not for the gnawing ache inside of her, she might wonder why he was staring at her all night. If not for the fact that she had the former king of the Dark Court as her personal knight in shining armor, she might worry a little more. Tonight she wasn’t sure she could worry. She needed to be lost in the music.
As the band took the stage again, her dance partner moved away, but she didn’t follow.
“Come dance,” she said again. “I know you’re watching. Come out and play.”
A few moments later, he came to stand—motionless—on the dance floor.
“About time.” She spun so she was chest-to-chest with him and slid her hands up his chest slowly enough that she could feel the muscles under his shirt.
“I thought you were going to make me chase after you.” She let her hands slip over his shoulders and around the back of his neck.
He stayed immobile as she did so. “You’re a foolish one, aren’t you?”
“Nope.” She tilted her head so she could stare up at him. All around, bodies crashed into them. The music was deafening, and if he’d been anything other than faery, she’d have had to yell over the noise.
“I could be anyone.” He had his arms around her protectively in the writhing mass. “You’re vulnerable here.”
A faery she didn’t know, a faery who wasn’t being torn out of reach, had her in his arms—and the aching hunger inside her lessened. He was a strong faery, stronger perhaps than any she’d met, and bits of his energy were sinking into her skin where they touched. I could die happy right now… or he could. She tried not to think about the danger she would put him in if she fully gave in to her urges.
“You look dangerous… feel like it too,” she answered both his question and her own musings.
He moved so they were closer to the edge of the crowd, maneuvering her toward the shadows along the wall. “So tell me: why are you holding on to me?” he asked.
“Because I’m dangerous too,” she admitted.
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t run either.