He gently kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her eyes, her hair.

"I don't want you to go away," she whispered, finding it easier to admit in the darkness. "But Keenan's comments. The way he … I want you with me right now. I've wanted you with me for months."

He kissed her for real then, not gently as he had before, but fiercely.

Afterward he told her, "I'll leave Keenan and Aislinn's side if I need to. I'll walk away from everything, everyone, just for the chance to be with you. …"

While she didn't understand much of what was going on, she did understand that he was offering to give up his family for her. Why? Why would being with me mean that? She traced her fingertips over his face.

He said, "If you want me in your life, I'll be here. As long as you want. Remember that. It'll be okay. I'll stay with you, and we'll be fine. No matter what else happens or what you learn, remember that."

She nodded, though she felt like she'd wandered into a weird world where everything she thought she knew had faded away. But even with all the weirdness, being in Niall's arms made her feel safe, loved, like the world wasn't awful. She couldn't stay in Huntsdale, though, not living with Ren and her father, not where everything had gone so horribly wrong. "I can't ask you to give up everything when I'm not even sure where I'll be next year. College. And we don't know each other, not really. And—"

"Do you want to get to know each other?" he asked gently.

“Yes.”

"Then we'll find a way." He stood then, with her in his arms, and walked toward the train. A yard or so away from it, he put her down. "Go in and sleep. I will be here when you wake. Tonight Aislinn will talk to you … or I will."

And when Leslie curled up in bed, she felt herself believing in Niall, believing in them, believing it really could be okay. Those dreams of finding someone who cared about her, who saw her as a person—maybe they weren't as impossible as they'd seemed.

Chapter 20

The morning was barely upon him when Irial walked into Pins and Needles, watching the mortals outside the shop with a new interest. Leslie would give him enough of her mortality that he'd be able to feed on them, to grow stronger. It had worked for a few of the thistle-fey, had worked for Jenny Greenteeth and her sisters. He couldn't grow weak. He couldn't allow his fey to grow weak and be ended by mortals. That wasn't an option. He'd have his mortal, nourish himself—through her—to feed his court. If they were strong enough, he and his mortal, they could survive it. If she was not as strong as he thought, she would die or slip into madness; he'd starve, fade, or worse—fail his court.

But she's a strong mortal. He hoped they would both survive. He'd never cared for one of them; there were a few halflings, like Rabbit, who'd mattered—but no true mortals.

"Iri." Rabbit's face lit with the inexplicable happiness he seemed to feel when Irial visited.

"Bunny-boy."

Rabbit scowled. "Man, you really need to stop calling me that. Ani and Tish are around somewhere. You know how they are."

"I know." Irial grinned. He couldn't see Rabbit as a grown man, despite the proof in front of him. "How are the pups?"

"Troublesome."

"Told you. It's all in the blood." Irial pulled out the book he'd brought with him. "Gabriel sends his best."

"He has a best? Been nice if they'd inherited it." Rabbit took the book, flipping it open as eagerly as he had the first time Irial had given him images of the more reclusive fey. The symbols and crude sketches were the start of what would be tattoos tying mortals to the Dark Court. Rabbit would re-create them in ways that faeries could not, capturing the flaws and beauties until they were pulsing on the page, seeking the mortal who could wear them. It was a disquieting skill—one neither of them spoke of.

Then Ani and Tish flew into the room, squealing in that eternally hyper way they had. "Iri!"

"How's Dad?"

"Did he send anything? He was here."

"He met Leslie."

"Rabbit won't let me go to the square anymore."

"Have you seen the new queens? We know the one, the Summer Queen."

"We don't know her. We met her. It's different."

"Isn’t."

"Let Irial talk." Rabbit sighed. He might scowl a bit, but he watched the girls with a care their father wouldn't have. Halflings were typically too fragile to live in the Dark Court, too mortal, but the High Court would've broken their spirits—impeded their natural passions with unnatural restraints. Sorcha's court took the Sighted ones and all of the halflings—unbeknownst to the Winter and Summer Courts—but the Dark Court tried to keep their mortal offspring out of that rigid realm. Rabbit had repaid that secrecy by looking after the other halflings Irial'd found.

"There's trinkets from the Hounds." Irial held out the bag. "And one of Jenny's kin sent those garments you wanted."

The girls snatched the bag and scurried away.

"Exhausting beasts." Rabbit rubbed a hand over his face, then called out, "No clubs tonight, you hear me?"

"Promise," Tish yelled from somewhere in the back.

Ani ran back in. Grinning madly, she skidded to a stop a hairsbreadth away from Irial. "Did you like Leslie? I bet you did. Very hot." Her words all tumbled together. Then she stuck her tongue out at Rabbit. "We'll get to go tomorrow, then. Promise?"