A Stroke Of Midnight   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

Harry stumbled back away from him and that dripping sword. I couldn’t blame him. Peasblossom screamed, and Mug hid her face against Galen’s neck.

“Goddess save us,” Frost said. “What is it?”

“Cromm Cruach,” Doyle said.

It took me a second to realize he was using Rhys’s original name, when he’d been a deity. Cromm Cruach, red claw. As I watched the blood drip on the scrubbed kitchen floor, I began to understand where the name may have come from.

Maggie May said, “Cromm Cruach, aye. Well, what does he say?”

The blood formed letters on the floor: DON’T YOU CARRY ANY NONMAGICAL WEAPONS?

“Oh,” Doyle said, and I swear he looked almost embarrassed. “May I borrow a kitchen knife, Maggie May?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but nodded. “Aye.”

He took one of the long, wicked-looking chopping blades and laid a finger down the flat of the blade. The silver of the blade fogged instantly.

Rhys’s face shone in the shiny surface. “Do you know how much blood I’ve had to waste trying to get you?”

“I did not think I was carrying only enchanted blades,” and again, I had the rare treat of seeing Doyle shamefaced at not thinking of something.

“Whose blood did you use?” Galen called.

“Mine. I heal now, but it still hurts to do it, and it’s totally freaked the cops out.”

“How many additional men do you need?” Doyle asked.

“I’m not sure. It all depends on how many of the police Merry lets into the sithen.”

I went to stand by Doyle, so Rhys could see me better. “How many police are there?”

“Counting the local cops or the feds?” Rhys asked.

“Feds?” I said. “You mean FBI?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t call them into this.”

“They say you called an Agent Gillett.”

“I called him, but not to invite the FBI.”

“Well, Agent Gillett called the local contingent of feds and invited them to the party. He told them, or implied, that you wanted federal help.”

“Are you calling to ask if the feds get to come inside?”

“Not exactly, I’m calling because the area around the faerie lands is federal property, and the feds are trying to tell the locals they have no right to be here.”

“Please, tell me you’re exaggerating,” I said.

His image blurred for a moment before I realized he’d moved his head. “I’m not exaggerating. We have a major mine’s-bigger-than-yours contest starting out here.