The Treatment had turned the tide of the war in favor of the human contingent. Fear of being stripped of all that made them fae was a weapon they could not defeat. Thus, the Pax Hominid Treaty was born, or at least enforced.
“That’s why Maura and Astrid wanted my gift checked!”
“Yes,” he replied. “They were the first I told when the test results came in.”
She shivered. “I didn’t know the Treatment was still around. I thought part of the treaty was an agreement never to use that weapon again, as long as fae maintained the peace.”
He shook his head, his grimace nearing a snarl. “There’s an exclusion for when fae are convicted of sedition or violent crimes in human courts. Then a part of the sentence includes the Treatment. It’s rarely done; the threat alone is enough to deter most transgressions.”
“Is there enough left to reverse-engineer a cure?” Becka asked. “You must have access to labs sophisticated enough to attempt it?”
“The labs are there, but remember they are human-run, even the enforcer labs. Reverse-engineering a cure to the Treatment would not be allowed. Besides, once we realized what we had, all our samples were seized. No fae is allowed access to it.”
“Except the one who used it to poison my father and me!” Becka felt sick to her stomach. She sat forward on the divan again. “Poor Vott. I was the true target, but he got most of the dose…”
Quinn nodded. “There’s still hope for him. We don’t yet know how much he received. Only time will tell how deeply impacted his abilities and health will be.”
Becka felt the floor drop out beneath her, her stomach flip-flopping with anxiety. “If they’d been successful, at least I’d have gotten out of my engagement.”
He frowned, brows drawn together. “There are more side effects from the Treatment than simply losing one’s powers. You’d be wasting away, powerless and ailing, even more vulnerable to your enemies. Surely that wouldn’t have been worth the cost?”
“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like an acceptable exit strategy. Quinn, I’m grateful the enforcers assigned you to this case. Seeing you in person is so much better than over the phone.”
“I wasn’t back on active duty yet, but Chief Elowen called me when she noticed it involved you. She knows I’m proprietary with my cases.”
Becka let that hang in the air, wanting to know if he felt that way about her, not just about the case. But after his comments earlier about her engagement, she wasn’t ready to broach that topic with him yet. She didn’t deny to herself that her affection for him had continued to grow.
“I’m going to help you figure out who poisoned me. I will avenge Vott.”
Some of his usual warmth returned to his smile. “Of course you will.”
“I’m serious!”
“I know you are.”
“When I think Vott got hit with the brunt of it and that his poisoning was inadvertently my fault, I feel so angry and sick all at once. Especially since he’s been making an extra effort to re-bond with me.”
“He has?”
“Yeah, every couple of days he invites me to lunch, tea, private dinner, you name it. Always with the easy small talk and filled with encouragement over each minute gain in skill performance. He just keeps working at connecting, and I haven’t made it easy.”
“That fits.”
Becka scowled at him. “What do you mean?”
“Every time we communicate, you have repeated your doubts about being accepted by House Rowan. You’ve spoken wistfully of the city and your persisting education and work interests.”
Becka sighed, sinking back against the divan. “I suppose I’m holding back. It’s difficult to feel at home here after being gone for so long. It’s hard to trust I won’t be rejected again.”
“I don’t know how you’ll manage it, but I believe you will find your own path. It might not look like what you expect, but I have faith in you to find your way.”
Becka reached out and gripped his arm. His touching affirmation spoke to her at a deep level. “Thanks. I am so glad you’re here.”
“I am too,” he replied, eyes full of emotion.
Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two. She’d missed him to distraction. Becka studied his features, drinking in his presence. Quinn had earned her trust, and her affection had grown along the way. She hadn’t been fully aware of the depths of her feelings towards him until he’d left for the Sirona Healing Springs to recuperate. Now, with him back, her emotions were resurfacing with renewed vigor.
She remembered that night, months ago now, where she’d curled up next to him in bed, filled with fear over the Shadow-Dwellers but able to sleep because she felt safe in his arms. She also remembered their passionate kisses the next morning.
“I missed you,” she said. “I wasn’t sure when, or if, I’d get to see you again.”
Quinn raised a hand and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I missed you too.”
Silence and words unspoken hung in the air between them for a few moments.
“So, how do we find the Shadow-Dweller responsible for the poisoning?” Becka asked.
“Hold on. We can’t assume that the poisoning involves them.”
“Can’t we? Woden said they would never stop until they had me.” Becka shifted onto her side.
“Exactly, they want your gift. Killing you or destroying your power would work against their stated goals.”
Becka pursed her lips, licking the still-parched skin. “Perhaps they were just trying to incapacitate me and make my powers easier to grab? I mean, if I was in Vott’s shape, then I wouldn’t be able to fight them off.”
“No, that would still at least erode your ability, if not destroy it utterly. Such a course of action wouldn’t make sense. However, as it’s an attack on you, their stated target, I don’t think we can exclude the Shadow-Dwellers from being involved. But they aren’t at the top of my list.”
“Well, then, who is?”
“Various members of House Rowan, for a start. I’m sure you have relatives who aren’t too happy you’ve returned to the fold.”
“Yeah, but enough to kill me? What have you heard about my return to House Rowan? I’m sure an enforcer would be privy to all the rumors floating around.”
Quinn’s expression turned guarded. “It’s well-known that your return to House Rowan has been bumpy.”
“And…?”
“There is concern over your ability to reintegrate into fae society. You eschew fae cultural norms and appear determined to forge your own way forward. Disruptions are anathema to our cultural soul. Not to mention, when you became heir you disrupted the previous lineage. It’s been widely noted that you haven’t adopted your family’s manner of dress and there’s talk you spend more time with your shifter help than your immediate family. House Hawthorne and their allies have concerns over your delayed marriage to Alain.”
The weight of his words pressed down on her body and mind. Her inability to accept her return to fae society had been transparent. “Is that all?”
“No. There are widespread but quieter whispers of some asking if House Rowan might well be better off with another—for instance, Calder—as the heir.”