“Are you in trouble, sugar? He seems awfully worried.” The same mortal woman spoke.

“He’s shaken up over a scare earlier.” Ani undoubtedly knew that he was listening, but her voice was at a normal volume. “He’s sensitive like that, but I’m not—I’m not as afraid as he is.”

“Bless your heart, you poor things,” the woman replied. “Well, I’ll wait right here while you use the facilities. He can’t come in here, but you’re not alone.”

Outside the door, Devlin smiled to himself at the woman’s kindness. Her efforts would be futile if there were a threat to Ani, but if the Hound was the mortal she appeared to be, the woman’s kindness could be an asset. It was the sort of mortal selflessness that had astounded Devlin over the centuries.

The other mortals, who’d kept a distance from Ani at hearing her words, weren’t the only sort found in the world. Unlike so many faeries, mortals were unpredictable. Like Ani. It confounded him—and made him strangely awed.

When Ani walked out, the mortal woman stood protectively beside her. They stopped in front of him, and before the woman could speak, Ani hugged her. “You’re a good person.”

“Well…” The woman looked a little startled, but she still reached forward and squeezed Ani’s hand. “You be safe.”

Ani nodded, and cuddled against Devlin as if they were something more than strangers. “I will. He’ll take care of me. Right, Dev?”

“One can hope,” Devlin murmured.

After a few moments of chatter, the woman walked over to a mortal man who was standing several feet away waiting for her.

Ani stayed pressed against Devlin’s side and sighed in a way that evoked a number of inappropriate thoughts. He held his emotions as close to even as he could. He didn’t share his secrets or his emotions with anyone. Except Rae. A stray worry for his bodiless friend assailed him. With it came the curious realization that he wished he could introduce Rae to Ani.

The Hound in question had her fingertips grazing the bare skin under the edge of his shirt. She wa

s still leaning into him as they walked back toward the car.

“Ani?”

“Mmmm?” She stayed near him, acting as if they were… something.

“What are you doing?” He was loath to ask, fearing that any answer she offered would be disappointing. He had no business allowing himself fond thoughts of the Hound. He’d known for years that it was inappropriate to let emotion cloud his judgment.

She looked up at him with a mischievous expression on her face. “How High Court are you, Devlin?”

He couldn’t answer, not truthfully. Or maybe because I don’t know anymore. Reluctantly, he stepped away from her. “I am the High Queen’s Bloody Hands, Ani. How High Court do you think that makes me?”

She hopped up onto the hood of the car, which had shifted form while they were away from it. Once more, it had become a Barracuda. Idly, she patted its hood. “Honestly? I think you’re a lot more like my court than you’re admitting.”

He stepped closer, so that he was beside her. He lowered his voice and said, “You’re a child. I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“A child?” Her voice was dangerously soft, and the glint in her eyes was one he recognized.

Part of his mind—the reasonable part—warned him away from answering her, but instincts he typically repressed urged him forward. The two responses warred momentarily, but despite centuries of choosing logic, he knew that logic wasn’t what he wanted. If he were truly logical, he’d put her in the earth before he went even further from sanity. His queen might overlook his lapse in obedience. Rae would have to forgive him in time. He needed to put things back in order.

I can’t.

“Are you trying to tell me that I imagined your interest when we met?” She straightened one denim-clad leg in front of her. The other leg was bent, so that her right foot was flat on the hood of the car. “No parsed words. Tell me why you’re helping me, or tell me why you won’t admit the urge that went with the look back there. You were honestly worried for me.”

He wanted to take the openings in her sentences to mislead her—almost as much as he wanted to tell her the truth. “Does it matter?”

“I just met you, but you seem more worried about my safety that most everyone I know… and that’s saying something.” She put a hand on either side of her hips, bracing herself. “Yeah, I think it must matter.”

He watched her get ready to spring at him. “I’m stronger than you. It’s logical that I keep you safe.”

“It’s not logical.” She tilted her head and widened her eyes beseechingly. “You know what I am, Devlin. Do you expect me to just sit next to the strongest faery I’ve met outside my court and not wonder why he’s appeared out of nowhere and worrying over my safety?”

“My motives shouldn’t matter.” Devlin couldn’t say they didn’t matter: that would be a lie.

“Tell me why.” Her words weren’t a request, but an order. “Tell me why if it isn’t personal. I almost believed it was just business, but you weren’t looking at me like business when you followed me, and you sure as hell weren’t thinking High Court thoughts when I touched your skin. Tell me why you want me with you.”

Tags: Melissa Marr Wicked Lovely Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net