A Thief of Nightshade(65)

squeezed

her

shoulder. “His younger brother’s name is Aislinn, right?”

Aubrey felt a knot forming in her stomach. “How did—”

“I know more about Jullian than you think I do.”

She remembered how Grant had researched Jullian when they’d first started seeing each other. “Where is he from?”

“Do you remember when I used to take you horseback riding, Aubrey, when you

were

little?”

Grant

smiled

reminiscently, his dark eyes shining from the light of the moon. He laughed. “You were so afraid at first.”

“I remember. You had to promise me new ballet slippers to even get me to consider it. Where is he from?”

“You wore them to your first recital.

You are far braver than you realize.”

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

He stopped walking and took her hands in his. There was something peaceful about the night and the quietude that seemed to cover them like a blanket.

Only the moon with its soft blue radiance and the dull amber glow of the street lights invaded what would have been perfect darkness. She thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned to see nothing but the shadow of the road sign.

“I’ve let you down,” Grant said.

“You’ve imagined that I was the one who walked you through everything when you were a child, but it was you all along. You could have turned your hurt into hatred for others, but you didn’t. You are strong, Aubrey. Without my help or even my blessing, you forged your own way and decided to go after what your heart wanted and because of that choice, you met Jullian. He saw in you what you’ve never seen in yourself.”

Aubrey drew a shaky breath. “Where is he from, Grant?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“You know I trust you,” she whispered.

He held her hands to his chest. “We just walked away from Samantha’s house.

I want you to think about who was there.

You felt something unusual. What was it?”

She’d sensed something in the woods, but surely he wasn’t referring to that. She thought about it. Then goose bumps swept over her as she recalled what Sam had said to her earlier in the day.

You need to get out of this house, get away from everything that reminds you of him.

“None of them knew Jullian,” she said solemnly.

Grant lowered his head. “We don’t have much time and I need you to fully have faith in me regardless of what happens.”

“What are you talking about?” She couldn’t hide the fear in her voice.

Grant pulled her closer to him.

“Listen, what do you hear?”

She did and was met with only the sound of leaves rustling. “I don’t hear anything.”

“No dogs barking, no children laughing. You’ve seen houses as we’ve walked, but have you seen a single light on? Have you seen anyone else besides your friends and family? Have you seen one single stranger? Anyone at all since you left the lake?”

Aubrey’s heart raced in her chest.

The movement she’d caught earlier had returned but tenfold, every alcove and recess around them undulating with shadows like living things possessed in agony.

“You crossed over when no one from this world has in over two hundred years.

Even then, she did not come of her own volition. Aubrey, your strength alone is what brought you to Avalar. Your love for Jullian is what woke the Dragonfly Oran from its slumber. That’s what you saw as you leaned over the water. And just like then, I need you to have hope now in what feels impossible.”

She shook her head. “Mother told me she slipped something into my drink to calm my nerves.”

Grant rubbed the chill from her arms.

“No. You spoke from your heart to Jullian in faith that he would hear you and he did.”

Aubrey heard something then, just as the air was whipping around them, she caught the faint sound of laughter, dark and wicked.

Grant pulled the Oran from beneath his shirt and pressed it into her hands, yelling over the now howling wind, “You

must fight the pain, Aubrey, it will not be easy. Close your eyes and hold on to me.

Whatever you do, don’t let go!”

She grimaced as the first stabbing pain ripped through her, threatening to pry her from his arms. Grant held her tighter, using his body as leverage against the whispery threads that lashed at them both, and spoke with authority in a language she didn’t recognize. The Oran burned white hot in her hands, worsening with his every word, but she clenched it firmly.

Suddenly, the ground fell away.

Ian hadn’t always been grateful for his wings, but now he was pleased with how fast they took him where he needed to go.

He landed just beyond the gates to the Winter Court, shifting as he approached the guards.

The Sidhe were a different breed of Fae than his kind. The appearance of the Fae–pale skin, shimmering eyes and wings of golden gossamer–gave the impression that they were harmless, pleasant even.

They were considered the blessed ones and as such had been sworn as keepers of the Winter Court and her Majesty’s army, but what it amounted to was an ideal that all Fae aspired to attain. Those who looked the most like the Sidhe were granted favor and standing in both courts, despite Oberon’s efforts at thwarting prejudice. Ian, dark-haired and with lesser wings, which were feathered and actually functioned in flight, had been forced to work thrice as hard in order to make it as far as he had. His only consolation had been that Oberon required those who swore the Griffin oath to not only be shape-shifters, but those with “lesser”