A Kiss Of Shadows   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

There was the force of the sea and a thrumming to the land, the magic of all living things, but nothing else. I cast farther and farther outward. Mile after mile and there was nothing, then, there, almost at the edge of my limit something pressed on the air like a storm moving this way, but it wasn't a storm, or at least not a storm of wind and rain. It was too far away for me to get a clear sense of what creatures of faerie rode with the sidhe, but it was enough. We had some time.

I pulled sack inside my shields, squeezing them tight. "They're miles from here.

"Then how did they do the spell of discord?"

"My aunt could whisper it on the night wind and it would find its target."

"From Illinois?"

"It might take a day or three, but yes, from Illinois. But don't look so worried. She would never dirty her hands personally with fetch-and-carry duties. She may want me dead, but not from a distance. She'll want to make an example of me, and for that they'll need to get me home."

"How much time do we have?"

I shook my head. "An hour, maybe two."

"We can get you to the airport in time then. Getting you out of town is the only thing I can offer. One sidhe magician, one not even on the spot, kept me out of Alistair Norton's house. I can't break sidhe magic, and that means I'm not going to be any help to you."

"You sent the spiders through the warding at Norton's house. You warned me to hide under the bed. You did great."

He gave me a strange look. "I thought you did the spiders."

There was a moment when we stared at each other. "It wasn't me," I said.

"It wasn't me, either," he said, softly.

"I know this is a cliché, but if it wasn't you, and it wasn't me… " I left the rest unsaid.

"Uther isn't capable of something like that."

"Roane doesn't do active magic," I said. I was suddenly cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature. One of us had to say it out loud. "Then who was it? Who saved me?"

Jeremy shook his head. "I don't know. Sometimes the Unseelie can befriend you before they break you."

"Don't believe all the stories you hear, Jeremy."

"It's not a story." Anger made those simple words hot and unpleasant. I realized suddenly just how afraid he was. The anger was a shield for the fear. His reactions all had a personal taste to them. He wasn't just afraid in a general way. It was specific, based on something besides stories or legends.

"Have you been up close and personal with the Host?"

He nodded and unlocked the door. "We may only have an hour. Let's get out of here.