Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(28)

“It is,” he agreed.

Without meaning to, she lifted her hand to touch her skin where she’d felt his words. A small voice reminded her that Erik could never do what Creed just did, that choosing to be with a human would mean sacrificing parts of herself. Logic silenced that voice quickly. Her life was already going to be risky enough without adding the dangers of being with another fae-blood.

Creed watched her like he was counting the beats of her heart. Maybe he was. She wasn’t as familiar with the aspects of working with the air. It didn’t come to her easily so far.

He sang softly, “Knife-tipped fingers and rose-petal kisses. All I need is—”

“Stop.” She pushed the air back toward him as forcefully as she could. Her eyes fell closed and she concentrated on not calling soil or stone to her defense.

After several moments, Creed asked, “I thought you liked my singing, Lily?”

She wasn’t going to lie, but she wasn’t going to listen to him as his voice brushed against the skin low on her throat either. Lily opened her eyes and said, “You know it wasn’t your singing that I was stopping.”

“I’ve never done that with anyone else,” he said, his voice casual. “Not on purpose at least. Not until you.”

She wasn’t even sure she believed him. He’d already proven that he was capable of overcoming the fae aversion to lying. Everyone was very clear that fae-blood couldn’t do so, and she’d always wondered if she was less fae-blood because she herself could lie. Then again, the fact that she had multiple affinities, strong ones, made her suspect that she was actually of purer lineage rather than being less fae.

She wasn’t sure what to say, but before she could figure it out, Creed said, “No one knows I met you.” He kept his voice emotionless.

Lily stared at him. He kept tossing her things that she didn’t know how to catch. Sure, they’d had a spark when they met, and yes, she’d had a tabloid crush on him for years. That shouldn’t mean that they dive headfirst into disaster. “Why are you telling me this?”

He sprawled out on the ground. “It will matter later. If it was about my reputation, I’d have found a way to get pictures out to the media. I didn’t tell anyone though. And I’m glad I didn’t. There are . . . others to consider.”

It was easy to figure out who Creed meant. The welcome-to-Belfoure bombing was a pretty big clue. The kiss was another. And if there were any doubts, Zephyr’s own admissions vanquished those.

“I met him today,” she said, sinking to her knees on the ground to face Creed. “Zephyr. That’s who you meant, right?”

She watched Creed as she said it, but he wasn’t as easy to read as she’d like. For someone whose every emotion appeared to be on his face in the hundreds of pictures that cropped up everywhere, Creed’s expressions one-to-one were implacable. She wondered how much of his media persona was cultivated. How much of the careless charm was his, and how much was a persona?

When he remained silent, Lily added, “I met him a couple hours ago in town.”

All he said in reply to her announcement was, “I know.”

She paused, hoping things weren’t going to get more awkward. If Creed knew that she’d met Zephyr, that meant that Zephyr would’ve had to have seen Creed immediately after meeting her.

“So you know what happened? Between us?”

Creed nodded. “Why do I think there was more to the story than what Zephyr told me?”

“Claimed he was waiting for me. Explosion. No one hurt. I pulled a knife. He kissed me. Accused me of being Seelie,” she summarized bluntly. It was a tactic she’d seen her father use to great effect: state the facts and move on.

“Zephyr left out the kiss,” Creed said flatly. “And the knife.”

“Oh.” She shrugged. “I was taught never to be unarmed. Using weapons helps me keep from drawing on an affinity and revealing myself.”

“And the kiss?”

“. . . is not the important point,” she said.

They stared at each other, and she felt the bizarre urge to apologize. They weren’t a couple. Creed had been hired by her father to sing to her. They’d talked. They weren’t even friends. They’d flirted . . . and then he went on to be photographed with no less than four girls between that day and now.

Creed simply watched her.

The tension was growing thicker the longer the silence dragged on, so she steered the conversation back to his earlier remarks. “Zephyr is the other person, right? The one you’re concerned about. You’re friends, and obviously both fae-blood. How did either of you know about me though?”

Rather than answer, Creed closed his eyes and tilted his face up to the sky like he was asking some unseen being to give him strength. If she hadn’t known he was a fae-blood, she would have suspected that’s precisely what he was doing, but she’d felt the way he moved the air near her when he sang. He wasn’t praying. Creed was literally drawing strength from the air above them, or more accurately, from the sun. In a voice so low Lily had to strain to hear it, he said, “I want to tell you everything, every secret, every good and bad thing I know, but I can’t.” His eyes were still closed. “I want to, but Zeph . . .”

“What?”

“It’s complicated,” Creed offered weakly, as if that was any kind of an answer.