“It’s not personal, you know?” Seth flashed an amused smile then, one Niall hadn’t seen in weeks. “If you were female, your . . . uhh . . . appeal would be cool. Not that Ash would be good with me doing anything then either, but I’m not into guys. No offense.”
Niall laughed. “None taken.”
As they talked, Seth had kept the stone clenched in his hand. He took a deep breath, laid it down in front of him, and reached back to unfasten the chain he wore around his throat, all while keeping his gaze on the stone. Niall realized then how difficult it must’ve been for the mortal to be surrounded by so many faeries. Yet he did so. Niall could write it off as merely a result of Seth’s relationship with Aislinn, but it wasn’t because of the Summer Queen that Seth sat here at the table with Niall. Aislinn would be happier if Seth severed ties with Niall.
Seth slid the silver chain through a hole in the stone and then fastened the chain around his throat. When he was done, he tucked the stone under his shirt. “It’s like the world got more in control all of the sudden. I owe you one.” Seth poked at the ring in his lower lip. “Not that I have any idea how to repay that kind of gift, but I will.”
“It wasn’t given with a price attached,” Niall pointed out. “It’s a gift, freely given. No more, no less.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t look like . . . let’s just say it was a little weird looking at you and having thoughts that I know aren’t what I think of you, and”—Seth bit his lip ring as he obviously weighed his words—“well, not everyone has been as unaware of how they could affect me.”
“You’re not talking about just the Summer Girls, are you?” Niall felt his temper slip a little at the realization that his friend was being manipulated. “Will you tell me who?”
“Nope.” Seth grinned. “I’m not offering you an excuse to start shit with anyone, and now that I have this, I think those head games will be entertaining for me for a change. It’s all good.”
For a moment, Niall debated pressing the matter, but part of being a friend meant trusting that Seth would speak if he needed help. Niall tapped out another cigarette. “You’ll let me know if you need intercession.” He looked at Seth as he packed his cigarette. “I have a few faeries who might find it entertaining to assist you.”
“Yeah, Ash would be thrilled if I send the Dark Court knocking.” Seth quirked a brow again. “You want to pick a fight with the Summer Court, you’ll do it on your own. I’m not planning to give you an excuse.”
Niall lit his cigarette. “Just don’t forget.”
“Not today, okay?”
Admitting defeat, Niall held up his hands.
“So how are you?” Seth prodded carefully. “Are you getting along any better with your . . . predecessor?”
The fact was that Niall did want to talk to Seth about that topic, but he didn’t quite know what to say; not yet, at least. He took a drink. He smoked.
And Seth waited.
“He’s gone missing regularly, and I don’t know what he’s doing.” Niall shook his head. He was more than a millennium old, and he was seeking advice from a mortal child. “Never mind.”
“And you don’t want to ask what he’s doing, but you feel like you should.”
Niall said nothing. He couldn’t deny it, but he didn’t want to admit it either. He might not be ready for Irial to hand all of the court’s backroom bargains, illicit investments, and nefarious dealings over to him, but he felt like he should know about them.
“Either let it ride or tell him he needs to report in more. There’s not a whole lot else to say, is there?” Seth gestured at the now open dartboards. “Come on. Distraction time.”
Chapter 2
It had been hours that Sorcha sat unmoving as Devlin brought forth the business that required her attention. One of the mortals that lived among them was mourning. It was a messy business.
“Should I send him back to their world or end his breathing?” Devlin asked her.
“He was a good mortal; he should be allowed to live a while longer.” The High Queen moved one of the figures on her game board. “Remind him that if he’s leaving us he can’t be allowed to see us. You will need to gouge his eyes.”
“They do dislike that,” Devlin remarked.
Sorcha tsked. “There are rules. Explain his options; perhaps it will inspire him to learn to temper his emotions so as to stay here.”
Devlin made a note. “He’s been weeping for days, but I’ll explain it.”
“What else?”
“Some of the discarded paintings were left in a warehouse for the mortals to ‘discover.’” Devlin stepped closer and moved a figurine carved in a kneeling position.
She nodded.