Gabriel lowered her back to the ground. “Barry?”
“I named my steed,” she said.
Gabriel squeezed her shoulder, and Ani felt better.
With a flash of realization, she understood that Devlin had known that a bit of violence would soothe her. He mightn’t have the right words, but he understood her. She looked at him and smiled.
The relief in his expression made her heart tighten. She reached out for his hand. “So, now what?”
Devlin nodded and turned to Gabriel. “If the fighting has calmed you, perhaps we can proceed to the planning?”
“This doesn’t mean I like you any better than I ever did.” Gabriel flashed his teeth at Devlin. “You fail her, and
I’ll beat you until you’re begging—”
“If I fail her, a beating will be the least of my pain.” Devlin pulled Ani close to him.
Gabriel paused, nodded at them, and walked to the living area, where Irial and Niall were waiting.
Devlin leaned back into the sofa and watched the others argue. They alternated between sitting on the worn leather sofa and chairs, pacing, and snarling at one another.
Too many kings at the helm.
Irial listened, but he was as forceful as he’d been as king. These were his people, his family. Niall, Rabbit, and Ani were precious to the former Dark King. The current Dark King was just as bad: Seth was as a brother to him.
And I must keep Seth safe as well. For Sorcha.
And Niall. Irial would be dangerous if Niall were to die.
And… all of them. For Ani.
And Ani. Devlin glanced at her. Most of all. Ani must be safe.
The thought of Bananach killing Ani was unacceptable. He understood then, on a very core level, that this was the danger of emotions. If she were killed, he would be willing to damn them all.
“Ani should stay with us,” Irial repeated.
“Think for a minute.” Gabriel shook his head. “You put all the targets in one building… Bananach isn’t a fool. She’ll come at us with everything if we make it that easy.”
“Do you have a better plan?” Irial’s voice didn’t get louder, but everyone in the room flinched.
Niall put a hand on Irial’s forearm. Irial pulled his gaze from the Hound who’d been his advisor for centuries and looked at his king.
“Gabriel’s right, and you know it,” Niall said. “You’re not thinking clearly. Let me handle this?”
For a moment, Irial looked down at Niall’s hand. “I cannot lose anyone else.”
“I know.” Niall did not look away, did not remove his hand. “We all want the same things. Your grief is in the way of your planning. Let your… king look after the court. Trust me?”
“Always,” Irial assured him. Then he left the room and went into the kitchen.
After he was gone, Niall spoke as if there were no doubt. “Ani and Rabbit need to stay together, but Seth cannot stay with them. I can take Seth to Faerie if he is willing to go.” Niall looked at Seth with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the illusion those in Faerie held of the Dark Court. “I won’t insist on your return to Sorcha, but if Devlin is right…”
“It’s cool. I can do more good there, but”—Seth pointedly looked at each of them—“once she is well, I’ll be back here. If there’s fighting with Bananach, I’ll be a part of it.”
Devlin said, “I’m not sure you, Niall, should be away from your court. Things in Faerie are untenable. They are used to seeing me as her voice and hands… if she is as unwell as I fear, I need to go.”
The Dark King looked at Seth, who nodded.