Ani was halfway down the block within a breath of her feet touching the sidewalk. This is for the best. She knew that—especially as she wasn’t a block from the shop before she was being followed again.
Without changing her stride, she headed toward a side street that would put her near where the Barracuda was parked. Calmly, she made her way toward the steed.
Can you hear me? She thought of the car, imagined the thrill of driving with it, and the warmth of its hood when she’d walked away. Are you awake?
Yes, but this would be easier if I had a name, Ani. Its voice had the same vibrating hum as its engine did. I thought on it. I lack a name. Being a Steed With A Rider means I get a name. It rumbled the words inside her mind. It is important to be Named.
Okay, but right now? Not the best time, she thought back.
Soon, it said.
She dropped her duffle, reached down, and slid a sgian dubh from its ankle holster. Then she turned around so she was facing her pursuer—and faltered. The faery from the Crow’s Nest who’d kissed her and tasted her blood stood in the street.
“It’s you,” she said.
“It is.”
You should not speak to this one, Ani, her steed rumbled. Ani felt it ease up behind her. Right now, it was a Hummer, oversized and bulky, looking like far more steel than most any faery could stand. Being a creature not a machine, there was no actual metal, but the illusion was convincing. It should be frightening.
Pretty Boy in front of her wasn’t shying away though.
She didn’t move any closer. “I thought you left.”
“I did.” He watched her with the same unflinching stare as at the club.
She shivered. Part of her wanted to ask if he’d tracked her, but another part of her preferred not knowing. “Do you know who I am?”
He gave her a thorough looking-over. “The faery from the club… or should I know something else about you?”
She straightened her shoulders and stared at him. It certainly wasn’t a hardship to do so. “You were following me.”
“Yes. Are you going to run?”
“Should I?”
“No.” He walked past her, turning into a narrower alley that was heavy with shadows. “You should come with me.”
She hoped that he’d followed because of their kiss, but she wasn’t a fool. Everyone wanted to curry favor with Gabriel, or Irial, or Niall: he was likely here because of politics.
Or because of Bananach.
“Did… War send you here?” she asked, rather than following him.
He paused and glanced back. “No one sent me. I am here for my own interests.”
She shivered. “Interest in what?”
“You,” the faery said, his voice a whisper from within the shadows.
Ani stepped into the mouth of the alley.
He’s not prey, her steed muttered.
Just a little fun, a little nourishment before we leave, Ani told her steed. I won’t kill him… unless I need to.
The temptation to not tell the faery who she was warred with her inherent sense of good sportsmanship.
“I’m not solitary,” she hedged.