I shot a glare at the fae. “Can’t you tone down the…” I waved my hand.

“You just gestured to all of me, dearest.”

I gritted my teeth at the term of endearment because I wasn’t his “dearest.” Hell, I wasn’t his anything. Nor did I have the least bit of interest in becoming such. I was ninety percent sure he was here because the Winter Queen sent him. She was determined to add me to her court by any means necessary, and I wouldn’t put it past her to send her nephew to seduce me. Hell, she’d offered him to me once before. The fact I’d passed was why I reserved the other ten percent when it came to his motives. Ryese didn’t take rejection well. When I’d turned him down, it was just possible I became a conquest to be won for his pride’s sake.

Whatever his motive, he was doomed to fail. He was as trustworthy as a viper, and had an ego larger than could fit at our table. Besides, he sucked at the whole seduction thing. I just wished he’d figure that out and stop showing up uninvited.

“Glamour yourself, would you?” I said, having to force the words through my still gritted teeth.

“Afraid you can’t resist me much longer?”

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. “Trust me. That’s never going to be a problem. But you are disturbing our meal.”

Ryese’s pretty face darkened with rage. His eyes, which were so pale I’d have thought he lacked irises if not for a thin ring of blue on the outer edges, narrowed, and he turned, looking at the bespelled and besotted Holly at his side. When he reached out to stroke her cheek, she moved into his hand, sighing with pleasure at his attention.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.”

Ryese didn’t drop his hand, but he did turn toward me. “Dear heart, she’s not the one I want to be touching.”

I think he meant for the words to be suggestive, but the darkness I’d seen flash across his face when I’d laughed at him was still evident in his voice, so it sounded like the touch he wanted involved strangling me.

“You’re in my seat,” a deep voice said behind Ryese, and the fae whirled around.

Caleb put his hands on the back of the chair and stared at the fairer fae. Caleb wore the familiar glamour he favored. One that made him look like your average boy next door with sandy-colored hair and a friendly face. Well, typically friendly—right now his expression was as hard as the marble blocks he spent most of his time carving into decorative but powerful wards.

“I was invited,” Ryese said, his tone haughty petulance. “And besides, I was here first, green man.” He made the last sound like a slur, pointing out how much farther down the food chain Caleb was than the conceited son of a bitch.

“Actually, you weren’t invited. I told you that you couldn’t sit there,” I said. “And Caleb has a standing reservation at my table, so that is, in fact, his chair.”

Ryese frowned at me.

I’d been receiving a crash course in all things fae recently. Rules, laws, customs—whatever Rianna and Caleb could cram in my head. I was trying to learn and retain it. After all, knowing how to play the game was the only way I was likely to keep my freedom. Maybe the only way I’d survive. From what I understood, all Sleagh Maith were considered royals in the courts. From there each court had their own way of determining the standing of the courtiers, which mostly just made my head hurt when Rianna had explained it. One thing all courts agreed on though, was that the independent fae were at the very bottom, their rank not much higher than changelings—who were property—so that said something about how low court fae considered the independents.

My rank in Faerie’s hierarchy was unclear. I was neither independent nor court fae. There was no precedent for a completely unaligned fae. In fact, the words “impossible” had come up more than once. Of course, I didn’t quite fit in any of the fae boxes. In all appearance, I was born human but either became fae or the fae in me woke under the Blood Moon—I still wasn’t clear on that detail. Since then, other fae sensed me as Sleagh Maith, and yet, how much of me was fae and how much human no one knew. The fact I hadn’t been born tied to a court or grandfathered into the independent’s vows further muddled the situation. It also lent credence to those who considered me more human than fae.

So where did that put me in Faerie’s hierarchy? Caleb and Rianna had been debating that for weeks. It was pretty clear Ryese outranked me, so he could sit anywhere the hell he wanted. But he had asked, and I’d said no. Rianna and Holly had said yes, but even if I were only feykin—a mortal with fae blood—I still outranked a changeling and a human.

I could almost see Ryese weighing these facts in his mind. After whatever conclusion he came to, he rose, slow and casual-like, as if it were his own idea.

“Until next time, dearest Lexi,” he said, reaching for my hand, most likely to kiss my knuckles, but he faltered when his fingers touched the stiff material of my gloves.

He’d seen them before; it wasn’t like I’d been hiding my hands. There were only three reasons fae wore gloves: fashion—which for the winter court appeared to be stuck in the Tudor period, but my gloves were clearly not a part of my ensemble; the second reason was for fae in the mortal realm, as gloves protected their hands from iron, but we were in Faerie, not the mortal realm, which left the final reason a fae wore gloves and that was because Faerie took the phrase “his blood is on your hands” very seriously. I’d killed another fae, and I’d had a damn good reason to do it, but now I wore his blood.

Ryese’s palms were spotless.

As he’d already taken my hand, he didn’t change midgesture, but gave me a stiff bow, not touching more than my gloved fingers with his hand. Then he straightened, and without another word or a glance at Caleb, he turned and strolled back toward the giant tree and the door to the winter court.

Once the fae had vanished behind the trunk of the tree I turned to Caleb. “I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to see you in my life.”

The stony glare he gave me as he sank into the chair told me he didn’t agree. Not at all. Then all his attention turned to Holly. She had a vague, unfocused look on her face now that Ryese was gone.

Caleb reached out and squeezed her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Holly, can you hear me?” She blinked, but her eyes didn’t focus. Caleb rounded on me. “How could you let this happen?”

“I…What?” I stared at him. Not knowing what to say. It wasn’t like I’d called Ryese over and said, “Hey, why don’t you mesmerize my friend?” I realized my jaw had dropped, my mouth slightly open, and I snapped it closed, my teeth hitting with enough force to resonate up my jawbone. I crossed my arms over my chest and met Caleb’s accusatory glare. “What was I supposed to do? Ryese just showed up.”

“You’re supposed to protect her while she’s here.” Caleb’s glamour was slipping, making the angry slit of his mouth cut farther across than humanly possible, and blackness bled into his eyes as a greenish tint showed through his tan.

I gulped. I’d seen Caleb this pissed before, but never had his anger been aimed at me. Some primal part of my brain told me I needed to back away, to get away from the monster transforming in front of me.

Beside me, the legs of Rianna’s chair screeched as she pushed away from the table. “I’m going to…” She pointed to the door to Faerie. “See you at the office tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder as she and Desmond all but ran from the table.

I didn’t blame her.

Unfortunately, regardless of what that primitive fight or flight part of my brain told me, running wasn’t an option. I swallowed again and focused on making my voice flat, emotionless—or at the very least, not riddled with fear. I didn’t quite succeed as I said, “What should I have done, Caleb? Jump across the table and stab him? Or maybe you think I should have let him take me to the winter court so he wouldn’t be a threat to Holly?”

“You—”

But whatever he was going to say was cut short when Holly mumbled something, the words so quiet I couldn’t hear them. Apparently Caleb couldn’t either.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice gentle as he squeezed her shoulder.

She still wasn’t focusing on anything.

“He’s so pretty,” she said, her tone distant and wistful. Then she turned toward me, but didn’t exactly focus on me. “He wants you, Alex. It would make him happy. You should definitely go for it.”

The last sentence sounded like the Holly I knew and used to barhop with. The middle bit? Not so much.

I moved to the seat Rianna had vacated so that I’d be directly across from her. “Hey, Hol, you in there? Snap out of it.”

Caleb frowned at me again, but Holly blinked. Then blinked again. Her eyes narrowed. “Wasn’t someone else here?” She blinked rapidly and then gulped hard enough I could see her throat working. “Al, I feel kind of strange.”

“Need a bucket strange or need a drink strange?” Oddly enough, that wasn’t the first time in our friendship I’d asked that question.

“Drink. Definitely a drink.” She shook her head as if the movement would help clear it. Then she seemed to notice Caleb for the first time, and the fact he still gripped her shoulder, worry written over his not-quite-human face. Holly’s head tilted to the side, her expression still not sharp, but closer to clear. “What are you doing here?” she asked Caleb. “And what’s with the freaky half glamour?”

He stared at her for several seconds before releasing her shoulder and sinking into his chair. Then he pulled the entire platter of the remaining lamb in front of him and grabbed a thick hunk of the meat.

“I’m here,” he said between bites and his now fully black eyes cut over in my direction, “because a particular FIB agent mandated an inspection of my workshop ‘due to reports of possible suspicious behavior.’”

I cringed. Another raid?