Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)(12)

Dropping the rest of the uneaten steak into PC’s bowl, I trudged over to the sink with my plate. That put me directly beside Falin, a proximity that made my shoulders tighten, my whole back going rigid. I tried not to let the tension show as I all but dropped my plate into the sink, but it didn’t matter. Falin’s gaze remained locked on his own plate, and I retreated back around the counter. Too fast.

The dizziness struck again, and I clutched at the counter as darkness filled my vision.

When the black dots cleared, Falin was staring at me. “Are you all right?”

“Fine,” I said, jerking my hand back from the counter as if that was the damning evidence of the dizzy spell. “I think I caught something.”

Falin set down his plate and crossed the small kitchen area, but he stopped, still two feet short of actually reaching me. “Fae do not ‘catch’ illness.”

I shrugged. “Well, my heritage is rather questionable.”

Lines of concern cut deep around his mouth, drawing down the edges of his eyes. The expression looked genuine, but how could I be sure? At the Fall Equinox he’d made a point of proving he couldn’t be trusted—a very cutting point, as in with the edge of his blades. That happened right after he tricked me, then said he loved me, and then warned me to never trust him. His display of emotion now could be some ruse conjured by the Winter Queen in which he had no choice but to play out his given part. I couldn’t believe anything where he was concerned.

But, oh, I wanted to.

It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t be trusted. It might have made me a fool, but I really did believe that he cared for me. Of course, him caring didn’t make him any less dangerous. That was one reason this sucky situation was so awkward.

“Alexis . . .” He reached out, stepping forward to close the gap between us.

I retreated, dodging around the one chair in the loft, a stool, so it blocked his path. Not my bravest move, but necessary. “What do you know about the unicorn from today?” I asked, as much to redirect his attention as a general wish to know.

He stopped, and for a moment I thought he wasn’t going to let it drop. Then he seemed to draw back into himself and the concern on his face vanished as if it had never been there, his features going remote, icy.

“The one on Main Street? We received reports about it, but by the time agents arrived, it was nowhere to be found.”

That didn’t surprise me. If the media hadn’t made it in time, there had been little chance the FIB would.

“It was glamour.”

If my words surprised Falin, he didn’t let it show. He also didn’t ask how I knew. He was aware I could see through glamour.

After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “I assumed as much. There hasn’t been a verified unicorn sighting since the Renaissance.”

Now it was my turn to look surprised. So they really do exist. Or at least, they had at one time. Maybe they would again. Stranger things had happened. The point was, this one hadn’t been real.

“The man riding the glamour was human. The news thinks he’s dead.”

Falin frowned again. Glamour meant Fae involvement, and we both knew it.

“I heard,” he said, nodding toward the television.

“Are you looking into it?”

He gave me a blank look, his features giving away nothing. He was the head agent of the local FIB—surely they were looking into it, right? His focus moved to the dishes in the sink. There was nothing companionable about the silence. It was a force that filled the small room, choking out the possibility of more conversation.

How long had I been home? Surely Holly and Caleb are finished with their movie by now.

“I’ll just grab a change of clothes and get out of your way,” I mumbled as I headed toward my dresser.

There was a clink as Falin set a still-soapy plate on the sink and turned around. “Alex, you realize I’m ordered to live with you. If you aren’t living here, I have to go wherever you are.”

I froze, a camisole slipping from my fingers. “You mean . . .” If I kept sleeping in Caleb’s guest room or made a habit of staying at the office, the queen’s order would force him to follow? Caleb was already furious about Falin staying in the loft. He’d probably evict me if Falin moved into his guest room. I closed the dresser drawer much harder than needed. I hated this, but there was no human authority I could turn to, and the highest Faerie authority was the queen—at least in Nekros—and she was the one who’d given the order in the first place.

My nightclothes clutched in my hands, I turned away from the dresser. “Are you actually ordered to sleep in my bed?”

“I haven’t been, have I?” He pointed to a neatly folded pile of bed linens in the far corner of the room. I hadn’t noticed them before. Two pillows sat on top of the bedding.

“Right. Well, then, my room is part of the greater house, so if you are simply ordered to live with me, that should meet the requirement,” I said, and glanced at him for affirmation. When he frowned but didn’t disagree, I nodded. “Good. I’ll be downstairs. Come on, PC.” And with that, I left the awkward ambiance of my loft.





Chapter 4





Ever wake to that feeling, before you even open your eyes, that you are no longer alone in a room? It’s one of the creepiest sensations, doubly so, because in the middle of the night, in a dark room, I couldn’t see a thing. My eyes were too damaged.