Providing yet another welcome distraction, Ariel set an empty tray on the counter and finally noticed me.
“Fortuna! You’re back!” she exclaimed, rushing to hug me. Her scent assailed my senses. Wildflowers, I thought.
As she pulled away, I glanced at Gretchen and lowered my voice. “No offense, but why are you still here? The person who ordered you to watch over me isn’t exactly in charge anymore.”
“I swore a vow of fealty to Collith,” Ariel said matter-of-factly. “He is not dead. Until then, I will carry out his orders.”
The stubborn light in her eyes reminded me of Lyari. I studied her, and for some reason, I chose that moment to remember Belanor’s threat. If he woke up, he’d kill everyone on the path to his prized Nightmare, and not just the people closest to me. He’d kill Ariel, this small faerie with the bounce in her step and a smile always at the ready. A faerie who, like so many others I’d met recently, possessed loyalty in her heart, along with the usual dark things that lived inside all of us.
I couldn’t let that happen. I needed a better plan than depending on a goblin’s bespelled ring.
“Is he okay?”
Ariel’s question drew me out of my silent, anxious spiral. I followed her gaze and spotted Finn, my eyebrows going up in surprise. Not on a hunt after all, then.
The werewolf sat at the table next to the window. Bea’s name was stickered across its length, casting the letters onto the sun-brightened surface Finn rested his elbows on. He stared through the glass, out at the street, as if he saw something the rest of us didn’t. There was something striking about him, an allure I couldn’t put my finger on. Maybe it was his broad shoulders, or the quiet strength that emanated from his eyes. I could understand, suddenly, why he’d caught Ariel’s interest. And maybe more, if the way her gaze lingered on him was any indication.
Love was so cruel. There Ariel was, ardently watching Finn, while Cyrus cast longing glances at her every time she passed his line of sight.
As I turned back to her, I realized that Ariel probably hadn’t heard about the events from the past few weeks. Especially if she hadn’t been back to Court in a while. Did she know her king was free?
Before I could ask her, someone called the faerie’s name. “Shoot,” she muttered.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Go. We’ll talk later.”
Ariel shot me a parting smile, waggled her fingers, and hurried away. I watched her go, reaching into my pocket for the ring.
When Bea’s eyes flicked toward me, she only saw a stranger holding a cup of coffee.
Ignoring the whisper of regret that went through me, I walked over to Finn. I suppressed a sigh at the sight of Regina Hart, Granby’s local gossip. She stood next to the table Finn had claimed, so focused on him that she didn’t realize they were no longer alone. She wore a pink jumpsuit and clutched a beer in one hand. It was barely nine o’clock, but details like that had never mattered to Regina. “…must say, you have such beautiful eyes,” she was saying, batting her eyelashes.
“They’re colored contacts,” I offered, setting my coffee down. Regina was so startled that she visibly jumped.
“Oh.” Her gaze moved between us, evaluating, appraising. “Of course. Should’ve known—no one has gold eyes like that. I’m Regina, by the way. How do you two know each other? Are you here for a visit or just passing through?”
My tone became airy. “I’m here for a visit, yes. Not sure how long, but Finn has made me so comfortable that I may never want to leave. Oh, as for how we know each other, I’m just using him for his body. Chains, whips, that sort of thing. You probably won’t see much of me, honestly. We’ll be pretty tied up, if you know what I mean.”
I winked, and I knew if Collith had been there, he would’ve done one of his small sighs. Regina’s mouth was pinched, her brow furrowed. She probably didn’t know whether or not to believe me, especially considering I hadn’t given a name. “Well, welcome to Granby,” she said.
“Thanks!” I gave her an exaggerated, toothy grin. Regina stared at me for another moment, as though she were trying to decide if I was mocking her. Slowly, she turned and walked off. I settled onto the chair across from Finn. “That should keep her busy for a while.”
He didn’t respond. He also didn’t turn his head or greet me. I considered asking him why he’d come here, but a quiet instinct urged me not to. Instead, I took a sip of coffee and reveled in the sweet taste. A moment later, Ariel’s laugh tinkled through the air. I pictured the way she’d looked at Finn, and for the first time, I wondered if there was any possibility of that interest being reciprocated.
“Do you ever think about remarrying?” I asked without preamble, angling my body toward Finn again.
He didn’t take any time to think about his answer. “No.”
I wanted to know why, but I still didn’t want to push him, either. If I knew one thing about this werewolf, it was that he only spoke when he was ready. We were alike in that way. Thinking the conversation was over, I brought the mug to my lips again. My attention darted back to Finn when he continued, “I will never love anyone the way I loved Amelia. It wouldn’t be fair to a new mate.”
Amelia. I’d never heard him say her name before. I waited for Finn to go on, but then someone passed the window next to us, and a change stole over my friend that I’d never seen before. He came alive, his spine straightening from the force of the emotion I saw in his face. Our conversation forgotten, I followed the werewolf’s gaze.
The person that had caught his attention was Phil’s daughter, Amy. Finn had saved her from the cherubim the night they attacked Bea’s. She was obviously late for school—a backpack thumped against her gangly body, and her corkscrew curls billowed around her anxious expression in what looked like a frigid gust of wind. Finn watched the girl hurry by, his eyebrows drawn together. His mouth was tight.
Pain, I thought. Seeing that girl caused him pain. Maybe his daughter would have been the same age, if she were alive, or they bore a resemblance to each other.
All at once, I knew this was the reason Finn was at Bea’s. I wondered how many other mornings he’d sat here, waiting and hoping to catch a glimpse of Amy. Every time he wasn’t at the house, I’d just assumed he was off hunting or running. Oh, Finn. I felt the werewolf’s grief as acutely as my own, and it deepened my understanding of him. He came here because, for the handful of seconds Phil’s daughter appeared, Finn could pretend that she was his daughter. His child. She’d been ripped away from him by violence and fear.
Amy was gone now. I refocused on Finn, at a loss for words. I knew from personal experience that there wasn’t anything I could say, in any language, to close the invisible hole in his chest.
Still turned toward the window, Finn gripped the edge of the table. The skin on his arms began to bubble. Alarm blazed through me, and the heat became an inferno when I saw that he’d started shaking, as well. Was he about to shift in the middle of the bar? In front of all these people?
Without thinking, I reached across and put my hands over his. Though the touch seemed to calm Finn, his body going still, my power ran unchecked. Flavors and phobias came at me, along with all the rest. I caught a glimpse of that final, terror-filled memory. A door bursting open. Windows shattering. Gunshots sounding. Then Finn’s agonized cry echoed across time, and I felt his terror as if she had died yesterday. Katie!