They stayed silent. She heard him breathing, heard him waiting for something she couldn’t give him.

“We should stop talking.” She clutched the phone. “I can’t…I’m not…I need time to live, and your court…”

“I know.” His voice was gentle. “You’re too good to live here with us.”

“I didn’t say that!” She felt the tears threaten. She missed them, missed Niall, Irial, Gabriel, Ani, Tish, Rabbit…her court, her family.

“I said it,” Niall murmured. “I love you.”

“You too,” she whispered.

“Be safe. If you need anything—”

“I know.” She disconnected then. What she needed was to let go; what she wanted was to hold on tighter. Irial was addictive to touch, and Niall had to stay with his court. Being with Irial would kill her. Being with Niall would mean living in the Dark Court. She couldn’t have a normal mortal life in the middle of the Dark Court; she couldn’t let herself become the person she would be if she lived there. She wasn’t ever going to be anything other than human, and humans didn’t thrive in their world. They died.

Self-pity doesn’t fix a thing, she lectured.

So she got up and got ready for class, and she knew that somewhere out there in the streets faeries watched to guard her, that Irial waited somewhere to protect her, that farther away Niall waited to listen and help her believe in herself. She was not alone, but she was still lonely.

Irial followed Leslie without her knowing. It felt wrong to hide himself from her, but he was quick enough to slip out of sight when she turned to glance over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, love,” he whispered each time. It felt too near to a lie, but if she saw him following her so closely she would be alarmed. They’d never spoken any agreement, but he kept himself out of sight except for their once-a-week silent meetings. If she saw him so near, she’d know that he’d learned of her disquieting calls or she’d suspect that something else was amiss. He’d rather not upset her if he could avoid doing so.

When she went into the red brick building, he waited and watched the courtyard. Mortals fascinated him far more now that he was a Gancanagh again. Their flirty laughs and knowing smiles, their defiant gazes and inviting postures—it was not an easy thing to resist so much potential. He didn’t remember being so easily intrigued by them, but it had been a lifetime since he was a Gancanagh. Being Dark King had nullified that for him, just as it now did for Niall.

Niall…who would beat me half to death if I indulged.

Irial grinned at the thought. It had been too long since Niall had been willing to fight with him. Perhaps when this matter was resolved, he’d tell the Dark King that he’d been pondering enjoying some sport with mortals.

Business before fun.

So Irial waited until Leslie was safely in the building and then he went to find Gabriel. Her class lasted for not quite an hour, but he’d be back well before that. It wouldn’t take long to find someone who could locate Gabriel. Then, they’d need to decide if Niall should be involved in locating whoever was upsetting Leslie or if the matter could be handled with more discretion.

Class had only just begun when Leslie felt the vibrations from her phone. The professor had a strict “no phones in class” policy, so she tried to ignore the phone, but after the fourth time, she began to worry. It rang silently in her pocket. Text messages came in, making it vibrate again.

Carefully, she slid it out of her pocket and glanced at the message.

“Time’s up,” the first message read.

She didn’t know the number it came from.

The second one read, “If you want Them exposed ignore me. If not come down NOW.”

Them? There weren’t a lot of threats that would make her panic, but danger to Irial or Niall was near the top of the list. The threats were vague. There was no reason to assume that the Them meant Irial and Niall. She shivered.

The third text added, “I know WHAT they are.”

Her hand tightened on the phone for a moment, and then she shoved it into her pocket, got up, and walked out of class. There was no way she was going to keep her regular routine if someone was out there threatening her. Her hands were shaking as she accessed her voice mail. Faeries don’t leave creepy messages. Faeries don’t text threats. She knew it wasn’t a faery.

She stepped into the sunlight outside the building and saw him—her mystery harasser.

Cherub-pretty and too familiar, her brother sat on one of the tables in the small courtyard outside Davis Hall. His feet were on the bench, and he had one arm across his middle. His unzipped jacket covered his hand; the other hand rested on his knee. He didn’t stand when he saw her approaching, but there was little likelihood that she’d be offering him a sisterly embrace. Despite the irritation of seeing him, it was almost a relief. She might not like him, might not have anything but loathing left for him, but he was her brother.

“What the hell, Ren?” She folded her arms over her chest to hide the shaking. “You think you’re funny calling and—”

“No.” Ren grinned. “I think I’m smart. You get spooked, and your little friends will show up. Do you know how much I can get paid once I prove that there are monsters living around us?”

He stood, his arm still against his chest.

Leslie forced a laugh. “Monsters? Really?” She gestured around her. “The only monster I see is you.”