He shook his head. “Just for conversation, D.”
“Damn.” She whistled. “I thought they were screwing with me. The scrawny chick or the surly guy?”
Seth took the beer she held out. “She’s not scrawny.”
Damali laughed. “Whatever. She treat you right?”
Does she? He took a drink and avoided the question. “You sounded good the other night.”
The look Damali gave him wasn’t judgmental or pitying. It was very…human. “That wasn’t even close to a subtle dodge. You need anything?”
“Just company.” Seth had known Damali long enough that he didn’t need to pretend. “Things are weird, and I needed air tonight.”
She gave him an assessing gaze. “That is why I don’t do the relationship thing. You used to get it. No getting caught in someone’s strings. No regrets. We had fun when you weren’t like this.”
“I’m happy being tangled up this time, D.”
“Yeah. You look like it.” She drained her bottle. “Want another?”
When he left a few beers later—without Damali—Seth wasn’t in any better spirits. If anything, he felt worse. All the down and none of the buzz. Drinking didn’t help. It never had.
As he walked, he wondered if he was about to go from worse to really awful. The guards he’d been so eager to leave behind were gone—but not at his request. The raven-faery who’d attacked Niall was following Seth instead, and she wasn’t pretending to be stealthy. She walked close enough behind him that he could hear her singing battle hymns to herself.
He knew she should frighten him, and on some visceral level, he was afraid. He didn’t have guards or his cell phone. No sense worrying about what I can’t change. He stepped into the railyard. The tracks and abandoned cars were the ideal security for a mortal dealing with Faerie. His home sat on a small lot at the edge of the railyard. Most faeries stopped at the railroad tracks; this one didn’t. She followed him almost to his door. A few yards from the house were wooden chairs he kept in his garden.
He pulled out his key and turned to look at the raven-headed faery.
She sat down in one of the chairs. “Sit outside with me, Mortal?”
“I’m not sure that would be wise.” Seth unlocked the door, but he didn’t go inside.
She tilted her head far to the side to peer at him. It was a very inhuman gesture. “Perhaps it could be.”
“Perhaps.” He stayed on his stairs, just outside the now open door. He’d only need to take one step to be inside. Would it matter? After how fast he’d seen her move when she attacked Niall, Seth was near certain that he couldn’t move inside before she reached him—and that she was strong enough to come in anyhow. He considered his options: there weren’t any. If Niall himself had struggled with her, a mortal stood no chance.
“Somehow I doubt that having anything to do with you is wise,” he said.
The faery crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair. “I like doubts.”
And this is why I have guards. But Seth remembered her fighting with Niall, and he suspected that even if the Summer Court guards were there, they couldn’t save him if she meant to do him harm. He wondered if she’d killed them—and would him.
“Does your king know you’re here?” he asked.
She cackled, a sound that should come from a raven’s beak. “Bold child. I’m sure he will…eventually. But he is never soon enough to change my paths.”
Seth’s fear spiked, and he went inside the house. “He’s offered me your court’s protection. I’ve accepted.”
“Of course. He has a fondness for you, doesn’t he? The new Dark King has always liked his mortal pets, not so bad as the last king…” She moved toward him with an exaggeratedly slow stride like a film reel advancing one frame at a time.
Seth wished he had his phone in hand. Niall couldn’t get there fast enough, but he’d know that it was this faery who’d—what? killed me? Seth looked inside: he could see his phone. He took another step backward into the train.
“Well, we shan’t tell him our business.” The faery shook her head like a disapproving parent. “He’d only tell you no if he knew.”
He took another step backward. “Tell me no to what?”
She paused mid-step. “Seeing her Royal Tediousness. That’s what you want, isn’t it? But they’ll all tell you no.” She sighed, but it wasn’t a sorrowful sound. It was longing, and Seth didn’t want to know what she was longing for. “Naughty boy trying to talk to the Queen of Reason. She knows of you. Sent her dirty hands to see you. Faerie’s all a-titter over the roaming mortal.”
At that, Seth stopped as well. “Are you trying to help me?”