Peeks paused where the tunnels formed a T, then veered to the left. He still didn’t turn or look back at me as he spoke. “The original plan was for both of us to defect to the Seelie Court,” he said eventually. “In those days, we never even imagined separating. We might as well have been twins, right down to our unfortunate size, although he was even smaller than me back then. Thuridan the Runt, our people called him. We were at each other’s side through every tutoring session, every holiday, every gathering. I was never jealous that my father loved Thuridan instead of me, because I found Jassin terrifying, anyway. So the two of us survived growing up in the Unseelie Court by depending on each other. Thuridan kept my father’s attention off me, and I used my ability to hide, creep, and peek to our advantage.
“But then everything changed.” Peeks paused suddenly, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he was considering our route or what he was about to say next was more difficult. He led us onward and continued in the same distant tone, “In the course of a single night, Thuridan seemed to become an entirely different person. He didn’t come to my family’s rooms in the morning, as he always did. He wouldn’t look at me during our coursework. I tried to ask him what was wrong, but he pretended to be ignorant of my meaning. From that day forward, he barely acknowledged me. He began spending his time with the bigger males, and then he went on to become a Guardian. Nuvian sent him to Australia to deal with some redcaps making a racket. My brother never came back; I heard later that he put in a request to be stationed there. I waited for him, but after several years, I finally followed through on our plan and sought a life free of my father. I chose not to reclaim the name Jassin gave me once I arrived here.”
He said this with a note of finality. Understandable, I thought with a wince of sympathy. I’d never been thrilled about getting saddled with “Fortuna,” but at least my parents hadn’t named me fucking Rothilion.
Confirming that he’d reached the end of his tale, Peeks remained silent this time. I mulled over what I had just learned. What I found most interesting was the fact that he spoke of his past so freely—normally, it was in a faerie’s nature to conceal and deceive.
I studied the back of the faerie’s copper head as if it were as telling as a facial expression. Being the Unseelie Queen had also taught me how to notice the smaller things, the subtle ticks and giveaways. There was a hunch to Peeks’s narrow shoulders, and his voice had been too casual during his telling. It still bothered him, the change that had overcome Thuridan and altered their friendship forever. I tucked the information away thoughtfully, wondering if Lyari knew about this part of her friend’s history.
After that, the quiet returned in full force. None of us said anything in response to Peeks’s sad story, maybe because he didn’t seem to want one, or because we didn’t know what to say.
Anxiety formed in my gut as I waited for Laurie to take advantage of the lull, to finish the conversation we’d started about my reasons for sparing Belanor. But he didn’t. And as the seconds ticked past again, I sought a distraction from the tension. It wasn’t difficult to find one; my mind went back to our destination. That was when I thought of yet another potential obstacle.
“Shit, what about Viessa?” I blurted. “We may have been allies during the coup, but I don’t know where we stand now. If the Unseelie Court has caught wind of Belanor’s interest in me, maybe she’ll give us right back to him, in hopes of securing—”
“Stop talking,” Peeks said. There was something in his voice that made me obey.
Gil let out what could only be described as a hiss. I glanced at him sharply, but all of the vampire’s focus was riveted on the tunnel ahead, his eyes flaring with an animalistic brightness. His fangs were extended, and they pressed against his lower lip. The pearly surfaces of his teeth gleamed in the harsh glow of the lantern, still slightly blue from the blood of all the faeries he’d ripped into tonight.
“We’re not alone down here,” Gil said, answering my unspoken question. His gaze met mine for the briefest of instants. It was a conflicting blend of concern for me and… eagerness. An eagerness he couldn’t hide and didn’t even try to. A soft breath of unease chilled my heart, like someone sighing into a dark, wintry night.
Laurie, I noted, had drawn his sword again.
Seconds later, we reached an intersection of tunnels. Peeks, Laurie, and Gil stopped, all of them mute and alert. I didn’t hear anything, and nothing moved in the depths of the four tunnels around us. I kept turning, searching the dark as my heart beat in my ears. For several silent, breathless seconds, I still couldn’t see what had the others standing so stiffly.
Then I did see them, and I wished I hadn’t.
Eyes. Glowing eyes.
I must’ve made a sound of some kind, because in the next breath, that glowing swarm started coming closer. I lifted the sword and held it just as Adam had showed me during our last lesson—my dominant hand just below the hilt, my other on the pommel. I could hear his voice from that day, the memory crisp as autumn leaves against a blue sky. Your rear hand delivers the force of the blow, while the front hand guides the blade.
The three males around me had settled into defensive stances, as well. The lantern shone from the ground now, where Peeks must have put it in order to free his hands.
The creatures made no effort to hide their presence; I could hear their feet splashing through water, though where we stood was dry, thankfully. They emerged from the shadows like a scene in a horror movie. I even heard the high-pitched ring of panic as I took in the sight of their bowed backs and exaggerated front teeth. Before I could form a coherent thought, one of them moved forward, stepping past the invisible line the rest seemed to be trapped behind. As the figure moved into the light, and I got my first look at him, the sword in my hands suddenly felt like a toy. A needle.
It was the most massive man I’d ever seen.
No, not a man, I thought instantly. He was in a form halfway between a human-shaped male and a… rat. That had to be it. Where his face should’ve been was a long snout, complete with whiskers and a pink nose. Until that moment, I had always thought rat’s noses were cute, but there was nothing cute about the creature sizing me up as if I were back on the auction block. If I had hackles, they would’ve been rising. I twisted my hands around the sword as though it were a baseball bat.
These things were either shapeshifters or wererats, I decided as my arms tensed, readying for a strike if the big one came any closer. I’d never heard of a wererat, but after everything I’d been through since meeting Collith, my mind was open to all sorts of possibilities.
It was also impossible to miss that the male in front of me was completely naked. The creature must’ve been wearing clothes at some point, because scraps of material still stretched across his barrel chest and around his thick waist. My gaze moved downward of its own volition—or so I told myself—and I just barely managed not to raise my eyebrows. But it was fitting, really, that the largest male I’d ever met was also in possession of the biggest cock. It hung there like a third limb, and I shuddered in pity for anyone who attempted to put that inside them.
Realizing that I was staring, my attention snapped back up to the male’s clean-shaven, square-shaped face. Too late—he must’ve seen my horror, because his chest puffed and he gave me a smug grin, revealing teeth that were surprisingly white for someone living in the sewers. He might’ve been handsome, with those teeth and his shoulder-length curls, but the rat’s nose and the smugness in his expression made him unappealing. I was about to roll my eyes when the creature said something in German, and more laughter floated out of the darkness behind him. Laurie and Gil shifted closer to me. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder or peer into the other tunnels. How many were there? Were they surrounding us?