No, I amend, not the pair. Just the woman.
His voice is low, almost stunned, as he murmurs, “Shadow.”
15
So this is the Shadow, huh?
She’s definitely not what I was expecting. For one thing, she’s blonde. Like super blonde. I’d call it platinum and wonder if it’s from a bottle except the thin eyebrows arched over a set of bright blue eyes prove it’s natural. She’s pretty and, though it’s tough to tell with the fae, she looks pretty young. Definitely younger than me by a couple of years. Twenty? Twenty-one? Somewhere around there.
I don’t think she’s fae, though—and not just ‘cause her coloring is off. Instead of projecting arrogance and cockiness like the fae seem to do, she’s wary and guarded, looking at each of us as if we’re rattlesnakes ready to pounce.
Smart girl. These days, I’m sure I’m wearing a similar expression. The look of a human who’s learned the hard way not to be fooled by the fae.
Her clothes are another clue that she’s not from Faerie. Like me, she’s wearing jeans, though her oversized maroon hoodie is swimming on her slender frame. She’s got on a pair of running shoes and—I do a double-take—she’s wearing a pair of leather gloves on her hands.
That… that makes me nervous. It’s hot as balls in Oberon’s Court, even if he keeps the inside of his palace cool. The Shadow looks like she’s dressed for the Unseelie Court with its perpetual winter, but if she came from the human world, the clothes would be suitable for some time between October and March.
When I walked through the fairy circle, it had been the beginning of May.
Uh-oh.
By my count, it should be close to July. Unless she lives in the Southern Hemisphere—and maybe she does—she’s way too bundled up. I mean, leather gloves? Really? But, then again, it might not be July.
Time is different in Faerie. I know that. But I guess I never really thought about it before.
How long have I been gone?
Like Rys, I think I’m staring at the girl. I notice that she’s careful to avoid looking back at us. She’s drawn to Oberon—though I really can’t blame her—and she gives the king a deferential nod before glancing down.
She tucks a strand of wavy, white-blonde hair behind her ear and I’m distracted from my newfound worries when I notice the point at the top.
Okay, then. That answers one of my questions. The Shadow definitely isn’t a human.
A lightbulb goes off. I kind of remember hearing that the infamous Shadow who had a hand in the Fae Queen’s death was a halfling: half-human, half-fae. That would explain the ears.
The man glued to her side, looming over her, a silent warning to every other male in the room… this guy is definitely fae. A Dark Fae, too. From his inky black hair to his mirror-like silver peepers, he’s a prime example of an Unseelie.
I catch his gaze and immediately wish that I hadn’t. His stare is so cold, I shiver and quickly look away again.
Rys finally recovers from his surprise. He clears his throat, his voice taking on a flirting edge that I’ve never quite heard from him before. “Riley… as lovely as ever, I see.”
Riley? Who’s Riley? I mean, the Unseelie is gorgeous in that otherworldly, ethereal way, but—
Her head jerks up. Now that her gaze has locked on him, she doesn’t seem able to break her stare.
Oh.
Oh.
And, okay, I knew there was history between Rys and the Shadow, he told me so himself, but this… something’s up. It’s more than that. I don’t think I like it, either.
Neither does the Unseelie. His pale skin starts to take on a silvery glow as he sends his very own death stare over at Rys.
Rys simply smiles back.
“Rys. You’re okay. I thought…” I can tell the instant she notices his scar. She cringes, then leans into the Unseelie male. “They told me you were in prison.”
He sounds way too cheery when he says, “I was. Almost impossible to break out but, wouldn’t you know, I managed. And look at you. How nice to see you again. Nine… I wish I could say the same about you, old friend. What are you doing here?”