Aislinn disentangled herself from his arms and went over to the sofa. Boomer barely stirred when she sat down next to him. Too cold. She shivered. It's always too cold. She stroked his skin while she thought. Seth hasn't ever told anyone about Mom or anything. He can be careful.

Seth sat back and crossed his ankles, waiting.

She stared at the worn vintage T he had on—damp from her tears now; the peeling white letters proclaimed: pixies. Maybe it's a sign. She'd thought about it so often, imagined telling him.

He looked expectantly at her.

She wiped her cheeks again. "Okay."

When she didn't say anything else, he crooked one glittering eyebrow and prompted her again, "Ash?"

"Right." She swallowed and said, as calmly as she could, "Faeries. Faeries are stalking me."

"Faeries?"

"Faeries." She pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged on the sofa. Boomer lifted his head to look at her, his tongue flicking out, and slid farther onto her lap.

Seth picked up his tea and took a drink.

She'd never told anyone before. It was one of Grams' unbreakable rules: Never know who's listening. Never know when They are hiding nearby.

Aislinn's heart thudded. She could feel herself getting nauseous. What did I do? But she wanted him to know, wanted someone to talk to.

Aislinn took several calming breaths and added, "Two of them. They've been following me for a couple of weeks."

Carefully, as if he were moving in slow motion, Seth leaned forward, sitting on the edge of his chair, almost close enough to touch. "You messing with me?"

"No." She bit her lip and waited.

Boomer slithered closer, dragging the front of his body up over her chest. Absently she stroked his head.

Seth poked at the ring in his lip, a stalling gesture, the way some people lick their lips in tense conversations. "Like little winged people?"

"No. Like our size and terrifying." She tried to smile, but it didn't work. Her chest hurt, like someone had kicked her. She was breaking the rules she'd lived by, her mother had lived by, her Grams, everyone in her family for so long.

"How do you know they're faeries?"

"Never mind." She looked away. "Just forget—"

"Don't do that." His voice had a bite of frustration in it. "Talk to me."

"And say what?"

He stared at her as he answered, "Say you'll trust me. Say you'll let me in for real, finally."

She didn't answer, didn't know what to say. Sure, she'd kept things from him, but she kept things from everyone. That was just the way it was.

He sighed. Then he put on his glasses and held the pen poised over the notebook. "Right. Tell me what you know. What do they look like?"

"You won't be able to see them."

He paused again. "Why?"

She didn't look away this time. "They're invisible."

Seth didn't answer.

For a moment they just sat there, quietly staring at each other. Her hand stilled on Boomer as she waited, but the boa didn't move away.

Finally Seth started writing. Then he looked up. "What else?"

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

Seth shrugged, but his voice wasn't nonchalant when he answered, "Because I want you to trust me? Because I want you to stop looking so haunted? Because I care about you?"

"Say you do go research. What if they…I don't know, hurt you? Attack you?" She knew how awful they could be even if he didn't—couldn't—get it.

"For going to the library?" He crooked his eyebrow again.

She was still trying to get her head together, to find a line between begging him to really believe her and telling him she wasn't serious. She pushed Boomer off her onto the sofa cushion and stood up.

"You see them hurt anyone?"

"Yes," she started, but she stopped herself. She paced over to the window. Three faeries lingered outside, not doing anything, but undeniably there. Two of them were almost human-looking, but the third was as far from human as they got—too big and covered in dark tufts of fur, like a bear that walked upright. She looked away and shuddered. "Not these two but…I don't know. Faeries grope people, trip them, pinch them. Stupid stuff usually. Sometimes it's worse, though. A lot worse. You don't want to get involved."

"I do want to. Trust me, Ash. Please?" Half smiling then, he added, "And I don't mind being groped. Perks for helping."

"You should. Faeries are…" She shook her head again. He was joking about it. "You can't see what they look like."

Without meaning to, she pictured Keenan. Blushing, she stammered, "Most of them are pretty horrible."

"Not all of them, though?" Seth asked quietly, not smiling anymore.

"Most of them" — she looked back at the three faeries outside, unwilling to look at Seth when she admitted it— "but no, not all of them."

Aislinn closed her eyes as she finished describing the faeries who'd been stalking her. "They're court fey; I know that much. They move in the circle of a king or queen, have enough influence to act without consequences. They're too strong, too arrogant to be anything else." She thought about their disdain, their disregard for the fey watching them. These were the most dangerous sort of faeries: ones with power.

She shivered and added, "I just don't know what they want. There's this whole other world no one else sees. But I do…I watch them, but they've never noticed me—not any more than they do anyone else."

"So you see others that aren't following you?"

It was such a simple question, such an obvious one. She looked at him and laughed, not because it was funny, but because it was so awful. Tears ran down her face.

He just waited, calm, unflappable, until she stopped laughing. "I guess that was a yes?"

"Yes." She wiped her cheeks. "They're real, Seth. It's not that I see things. There are faeries, creatures, almost everywhere. Awful things. Beautiful ones. Some that are both at once. Sometimes they're horrible to each other, doing really" — she shuddered at the images she didn't want to share with him—"bad things, sick things."

He waited.

"This one, this Keenan, he approached me, made himself look like a human and tried to get me to go with him." She looked away, trying to summon the calm she relied on when the things she saw got too weird. It wasn't working.

"So what about this court thing? Could you talk to their king or whatever?" Seth turned the page.

Aislinn listened to the soft whisper of paper falling, loud in the room despite the music, despite the impossibility of hearing such a soft sound. Since when can I hear a sheet of paper falling?

She thought about Keenan, thought about how to explain that sense of strength he exuded. He'd seemed immune to the iron downtown—a terrifying possibility; at the very least, he'd been strong enough to hold a glamour around it. Deadgirl had seemed weakened by it, but it hadn't repelled her either. "No. Grams says court fey are the crudest ones. I don't think I could face anything stronger even if I could reveal myself, and I can't. They can't find out that I can see them. Grams says they'll kill or blind us if they find out we see them."

"Suppose they're something else, Ash?" Seth was moving now, standing in front of her. "What if there's another explanation for what you saw?"

She folded her hand into a loose fist as she stared at him, feeling her fingernails dig ever so slightly into the palm of her hand. "I'd love to believe there's another answer. I've seen them since I was born. Grams sees them. It's real. They're real."