If only she knew how deadly serious I am. For one day soon, when I find this wifely paragon under the Crystalline Oak, I shall end her. And swiftly, too.
“Never? Can we stop soon? I’m starving.”
Balor immediately sits and barks, and Jinn halts abruptly, both obeying the wasp’s request. What is this mutiny?
Quickly surveying the environment, I notice a willow tree bowing elegantly over the riverbank. It’s a perfect place to take luncheon.
“Certainly,” I say, giving my dog the evil eye as I dismount. I’ll speak with Jinn later.
I have a bone-deep premonition this girl is going to cause me the worst kind of trouble—infinite and unfathomable.
But on the positive side, at least I’m not bored anymore.
Chapter 5
THE SILVER DOE
Lara
Our unappetizing lunch is nearly finished, and just as I shove a final hunk of old cheese and stale bread in my mouth, Ever does something scandalous.
He smiles.
Yes, the barbaric, supernatural, pain-in-the-butt grins at his sandwich and two glorious dimples pop out to frame succulent coral lips and shock me into coughing a lump of half-chomped food into my palm.
Ugh. What could possibly have made him do that?
While I splutter and choke, he scowls, indicating he thinks I’m being gross on purpose.
Grimacing, I throw the food over my shoulder. “What were you thinking of that made you smile like that? The first time you drowned a puppy?”
“I did not smile.”
“You did so. Why?”
Sprawled opposite me on the grassy riverbank, he pushes golden hair off his face and stares at me with those metallic almond-shaped eyes. It’s like being gazed at by a sleepy lion who’s woken up to find me plonked in front of him and is now wondering how good I might taste.
“As I said, I did not smile. Smiling is the enterprise of sycophants and lunatics.”
And distracted fae huntsmen, apparently.
I open my mouth to continue the argument, but he cuts in before I can speak.
“If you wish to bathe in the river, human, you may do so. The water here is shallow and the current slow. It’s unlikely you’ll drown. But, of course, I can’t guarantee you won’t.”
“Do I really smell that bad?”
He shrugs a shoulder, shifting his gaze to the trees on the opposite bank. So that’s a yes, then.
“What about you? Are you going to bathe?”
“No. I’ll remain here and keep a lookout.”
“Why is it fine for you to be covered in filth but not me?”
“Fae bathe for pleasure. As I’ve already told you, we don’t sweat. Our scent is made of the elements—the smoky flame, cool water, deep earth, a fresh breeze. We are nothing like humans.”
You can say that again, buddy.
“What will you be watching for?”
“Kelpies.”
“And they are?”
“Savage water horses. Their only desire is to drag you to a watery grave.”
If they show up, I’m sure Ever will be standing on the banks cheering them on. Unless, of course, he wants to save the pleasure of finishing me off for himself.
“Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound when you call me mortal and human?”
“Certainly not as foolish as you sound when you call me Never.”
Rolling my eyes, I wrap the leftover cheese in cloth and shove it toward the leather pouch he produces food from whenever I’m about to pass out from hunger. It’s beyond me how he always knows the right moment to throw a scrap my way.
My whole body feels gritty and grimy, so even though I might turn into an icicle in the river or get eaten by kelpies, it’ll be worth the risk to be clean again. “Okay. Since this bath of mine is so important to you, where do you suggest I take it?”
Silver eyes narrow. “As a hunter, I’ve smelled worse things than you. But if you prefer to exude the scent of a troll, be my guest, stay dirty. I shall be rid of you soon enough anyway.”
I get to my feet and take two steps toward the riverbank.
“Not there!” Ever yells as Balor barks and Jinn whinnies. “Look how fast the water rushes over that row of rocks. The spot you’ve chosen to bathe in is perfect if you’re hoping to be swept away. Don’t you know anything?” He points downstream at a clump of low shrubs edging the water. “Go near the copse of young rowan. The water there is calm enough for your purposes.”
I march back to where he sits cocking a superior eyebrow at me like he’s lord and master of all that exists.
“Listen. I’m a city girl, which is why I don’t know anything about rivers and trees and how to survive with nothing but a knapsack and a Swiss Army knife. But that doesn’t make me stupid, okay? And speaking of stupidity, would it be beyond you to turn the wind down a bit or let some sun shine through the clouds for a few minutes?”
Brows scrunched together, he stares up at me, bristling with anger. I don’t think he’s used to people sassing him.
“Oh, forget it. I’d have better luck getting a piranha to file its own teeth blunt than I would convincing you to do something nice for a change.”
Lightning fast, his hand lashes toward my throat. I leap out of reach and make a run for the river, stumbling in a bizarre dance over rocks and stones to the merciless tune of his laughter.
“If I’d been serious about striking you, you’d be dead already,” he shouts.
This is good news. It means even though he’d like to hurt me, something stays his hand. The rules of his court? Or is his bark worse than his bite?
Through a thicket of prickly brambles, I step carefully down the bank, and then walk along the river’s edge until I reach a spot from where the huntsman isn’t visible.
Shivering, I shed my filthy clothes and drape them over a nearby bush, the branches bowing with the weight. Bright red berries glow between the leaves and make me drool. I long to pop one in my mouth. But I’d better not. The last thing I need while traveling with that heartless fae savage is a nasty dose of food poisoning.
Not even a patch of blue sky peeks through the gray clouds, and the air is freeze-your-eyelashes-off cold. Stripped down to my bare skin, arms crossed over my chest, and teeth chattering, I step into the icy water—one foot, now two. Shock steals the breath from my lungs, reminding me of Ever’s cruelty.
I won’t cry.
As I blink back tears, memories flash, bringing on a severe case of homesickness—Aunt Clare packing the dishwasher while dancing to classic rock tunes, as she did most Friday nights after a few-too-many glasses of wine. Isla and I whirling around the kitchen. All of us laughing. Never crying. Never crying.
I scrub a palm over my eyes, biting my quivering lip.
It’s unbearably painful to think about my family. Instead of days, it feels like I’ve been away from them for months.
Refusing to give in to terror, I blink back tears. Fear means weakness, which leads to death. Fury trumps fear and because survival is the game I’m playing, I need to stay angry to win. Or at least stay alive until I can work out how to get home again.
Forcing my legs to move, I keep wading until the water laps my bellybutton. Then I take a shaky breath and survey the surrounding woods. This land is strange, the intense quiet bleak and unnatural—again reminding me of my kidnapper.