It was the feather Oliver had given me. I stared at it, waiting for the delicate strands to turn to dust like the photo booth pictures had.
They didn’t.
The sound of Matthew’s laughter drew me out of my ear-ringing shock.
I didn’t know how long I’d been staring at the feather in my hand. Long enough for the sun to rise and my nephew to wake up, apparently. I sat up in bed, listening for other noises from the kitchen. Damon said something, and I heard Danny’s voice, too. All of them were out there, and if I wasn’t careful, they’d see the dreamscape in my eyes. Standing, I shoved every question I had about Oliver and the feather to a shadowed place inside me. I reached into the nightstand for one of my holy weapons, a habit I’d developed since coming home. After a moment’s debate, I put Dad’s pocketknife in the pocket of my pajama bottoms, and the feather burned a hole in the other as I opened my bedroom door.
Danny was at the stove, standing in the spot usually occupied by Emma. Her absence meant that she’d probably left for the day. Matthew sat in his high chair, and Damon was in a chair beside him. None of them had noticed me yet. My brother looked at Danny and asked, “When are you leaving for Michigan?”
The human turned with a spatula in his hand, opening his mouth to respond, but then he spotted me. He offered a soft, friendly smile. “Good morning. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”
“I like you, Danny. I think we’ll keep you,” I commented, shuffling toward the coffee maker. Danny responded at the same moment a noise burst through the loft. It was a high-pitched, unending wail. I looked at Damon, whose bewildered expression matched mine. “Is that… Nym?”
“No idea,” he said, standing to cover Matthew’s ears.
Hello, who had been twining around the legs of the high chair, ran from the room at full speed. The fur along her back was raised.
As Nym’s keening continued, I rushed out of the kitchen. The faerie’s door was shut, but I opened it without hesitation. His name rose to my lips. The moment I took a step over the threshold, though, I could only let out a gasp.
Fear filled every corner of the room.
It radiated from a single source, one mind that was still guarded against my entry. The flavor on my tongue made me think of syrup. I stayed in the doorway, clutching the knob so tightly it hurt. All that delicious fear… beckoning to me like a buffet, crooning like a sirensong… “Nym? What’s going on?”
He was in the corner, his arms over his head. It was almost identical to how I’d found him on the night of Viessa’s coronation, only this time, Nym was rocking.
The instant I spoke, the noise coming from him stopped. He didn’t move or respond to my question. As I tried to think of what to do, I glanced around, noting that Nym had gotten his hands on a few more clocks since I’d brought the first one home. There was a small grandfather clock on the dresser, and two round alarm clocks on his nightstand.
All of them were ticking.
Footsteps sounded from the other end of the hallway. I glanced behind me, then did a double take. Finn stood there, on two legs, his dark hair damp from the shower. He wore jeans that looked new, along with a long-sleeved white shirt.
“You look great,” I said, trying not to sound surprised. “What’s the occasion? Not that there has to be one.”
Finn shoved his sleeves up, revealing the hard tendons in his forearms. “I wanted to talk to—”
Without warning, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he crumpled to the floor like a pile of perilously-balanced rocks. Forgetting Nym, I cried Finn’s name and dove for him, falling hard to my knees. The werewolf’s entire body trembled. A line of spit slid out of one corner of his mouth and pooled on the tiles.
“I’ll call an ambulance,” I heard Danny say.
“No, don’t,” I snapped, struggling to push Finn onto his side. “No hospitals! We need Zara or Maria.”
Danny started to ask something, but my brother touched his arm. His words were lost to me as I summoned every faerie I knew with access to a healer. Laurie. Lyari. Then, after only a breath of hesitation, Collith.
I was going through their names again when Danny knelt and added his strength to mine. We got Finn onto his side in an instant. He’d stopped seizing, but I kept him in that position, worried it would start again. The back of his shirt was drenched in sweat. It made the material transparent, and my eyes went to a bit of raised flesh that didn’t belong. Hearing my swift intake of breath, Danny looked at me. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.
There was a brand on Finn’s back.
It wasn’t the same symbol I bore, but the shape was similar. Fende must’ve done it while we were at the Seelie Court. The thought felt as if it belonged to someone else; I couldn’t discern if I was numb or horrified. Possibly some strange combination of the two. Why hadn’t Finn said anything? How had I missed it during the games, when he’d been naked and injured in the sand?
Feeling sick, I covered my mouth and turned away. It took me longer than I expected to put my emotions back into their cage—they kept evading me, running through my body with wild abandon. Guilt, horror, fear.
Gentle hands gripped my shoulders and a familiar scent surrounded me. A strange sound tore from my throat. I whirled, pressing my hands against Finn’s chest to make sure he was real. I peered up into his face and said on a relieved exhale, “Holy shit, you scared me, wolf. What was that? Are you all right?”
His gaze burned into mine like a black fire. “His Majesty has finally recovered from your last encounter, Fortuna Sworn. He doesn’t appreciate the delay in our plans.”
Frowning, I stared at Finn for the length of two heartbeats—I could hear them in my ears. One. Two. On the third, I recoiled so violently that I almost fell. Danny caught me. I darted a glance at Damon and said, “Get Matt out of here. Now. And send a text to Emma and Cyrus. No one comes home until I call you and give the all-clear.”
My brother didn’t argue or question me. Holding Matthew in his arms, Damon walked calmly over to the door. He snatched up their coats and his car keys. Danny was close behind them, but I saw him glance back at us. That’s going to be a fun car ride for Damon, I thought distantly, turning back to Finn.
I waited until the door closed. “Who are you?”
“Not important. All you need to know is that I speak for King Belanor.” The intruder looked down at Finn’s body. “Now, let’s take a closer look at who I’m possessing.”
Possessing. The word confirmed what I’d been afraid to let myself consider. There was a demon inside my friend, and I had no idea how to get it out. My voice was uneven as I said, “Finn isn’t a part of this. If you don’t release him right now, I’ll—”
“I will gladly abandon this meatsuit,” the demon cut in, rocking back on its heels. “I only ask for one thing in return.”
I’d told myself, once, that I would never make another deal with a demon. But this was Finn. Finn. The werewolf who ached liked I ached, loved like I loved. The werewolf who pranced through snow and tore my enemies apart with his teeth. Damon was my brother by blood, and Finn was my brother by soul. For him, I would make a thousand deals.