Still, he hadn’t looked arrogant and obnoxious just now. “Can I ask you something?” I said, staring up at the ceiling so I didn’t have to be tempted by his hotness.

“Sure,” he responded, and he sounded much friendlier than he had since I’d first met him.

“Is all this attitude stuff just part of the lesson, or do you really have something against me?”

He didn’t say anything for a long time. He sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, not looking at me, the expression on his face thoughtful. I stayed where I was, somehow fearing any movement I made would turn him back into his usual self.

“It’s not you, exactly,” he finally said. “I just don’t like being told what to do.” He smiled sardonically. “One of the reasons Knight training didn’t work out for me.”

I frowned up at him. “I thought you chose not to enter Knight training.”

“No, I chose not to stay in Knight training.” He smiled wryly. “It was something of a mutual decision. I didn’t want to blindly follow orders, they didn’t want to deal with a troublemaker.”

“And what does this have to do with me?”

He blew out a breath. “Nothing, exactly.” He turned to face me, crossing his legs.

I was tired of looking up at him, so I pushed myself up into a sitting position. “I don’t get it.”

He met my gaze steadily. “Why do you think they chose an eighteen-year-old Knight reject to be your teacher?” he asked.

“Huh?” I asked intelligently.

“There are Fae out there who have centuries of experience with fighting and with teaching. I’m good, but I’m not that good. So why would your father, who could afford anyone he wanted to hire, choose me?”

“Because you’re Finn’s son?” I suggested.

“That made a convenient excuse. I bet my father was even the one to suggest it. But there’s more to it than that.”

“Go on. Spell it out for me.” There was a hard lump in my gut, and I clenched my teeth tightly.

He looked away. “Your father had a private word with me before he left for work yesterday. He didn’t come out and say it—he’s far too subtle for that—but he suggested I might want to ‘befriend’ you.” He made air quotes. “He said you’d made a couple of Unseelie friends, and he wanted to offer you a Seelie alternative.”

I lowered my head into my hands, fighting a sudden urge to hunt my dad down and personally show him all the neat tricks Keane had taught me.

“I didn’t much appreciate the suggestion,” Keane continued in a massive understatement. He sighed. “But it wasn’t fair of me to take it out on you. Sorry.” He managed another smile. “Don’t get me wrong—my teaching methods are never warm and fuzzy, and if you don’t feel like smashing my face in when we’re sparring, then I’ll feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

I gave a little snort of laughter. “Thanks for telling me. And I’m sorry my dad—”

“You don’t have to apologize for your father.” He pushed to his feet, and I could see the drill-sergeant mask drop back into place. “Now, enough resting. Let’s get back to work.”

I was sore, tired, and pissed off at my dad for his behind-the-scenes matchmaking, or whatever it was he’d thought he was doing. But despite everything, I couldn’t say I was completely unhappy to spend more time in Keane’s arms, even if it was just to fight.

I spent much of the afternoon debating whether I should confront my dad about pushing Keane at me. Based on the brutal honesty he’d already shown me, I knew he’d tell me the truth about what he’d done, and maybe even about why. The question was, did I want the truth?

When Dad came home that night, however, I decided his little manipulative tricks were the least of my worries. Because, you see, he’d had another meeting with Grace and Alistair, and the Big Three had come to an agreement as to where I would live, the “safe house” that would supposedly keep the bad guys from finding me.

I had a sneaking suspicion that Mom’s threats to take me out of Avalon without Dad’s approval had inspired the Big Three to come to an agreement faster than they might have otherwise. I also suspected that I’d have a much harder time escaping from the safe house than from my dad’s place. Dad told me they planned to have the place ready as soon as tomorrow, so whatever I was going to do, I’d have to do it fast.

I had two major problems to solve if I hoped to go home with Mom. First, I had to get out of the house. Second, I had to get out of Avalon. The first should be manageable, as long as I waited until Dad was asleep at night. I wasn’t getting by Finn no matter what, but Dad could hardly expect me to try to sneak out alone in the middle of the night. Naturally, he would assume I wasn’t that stupid. I tried not to think about the terrible things that could happen to me if the bad guys found me wandering the streets of Avalon alone at night.

The second problem was tougher to figure out. How could I get out of Avalon without a passport? Hell, even if I miraculously made it through the border and into England without my passport, I wouldn’t be able to get back into the United States without one. I was sure I could arrange to get a new one in London, but that would take time, and Mom and I had to get well and truly gone as fast as possible.

The inevitable conclusion was that I needed my passport. But if I asked my dad about it, that would put him on his guard, particularly when he knew Mom planned to “rescue” me from him.

I was completely stymied. Yeah, I could try searching the house for the passport, but I couldn’t guarantee it was here, and my chances of getting caught and putting Dad on high alert were too great. I supposed it was a good thing that passports are hard to forge, but I was finding it rather inconvenient at the moment.

And then I reminded myself where I was: Avalon. The Wild City, the Magic City. If I couldn’t forge a passport with technology, might magic do the trick? I remembered the dismal little room in the tunnels that Ethan had taken me to, the one no one would ever know was there because of the illusion spell Ethan had cast. If he could create a wall that wasn’t there, could he create a passport?

It was a crazy idea. Even if Ethan really could pull it off, I had to be out of my mind to even think about asking him. He was the enemy, after all. Well, maybe not the enemy exactly, but he was definitely a lying jerk who had his own—and his father’s—best interests at heart.

Then again, he had taken quite a risk approaching me at Starbucks the other day to tell me the truth about the Spriggan attack. Finn had been on a hair trigger, and he could easily have flattened Ethan. And Ethan could have just had his father warn my father. The fact that he’d talked to me personally instead told me he probably really did feel bad about what he’d done.

Bad enough to help me escape Avalon?

I gnawed my lip. Even if he wanted to help me, he might think the same way my dad did, that I was safer in Avalon than in the mortal world. I let the idea ping around in my brain the rest of the evening. Dad couldn’t help but notice my less-than-lovely mood, but though he tried to talk to me a few times, he didn’t push.

I watched TV with him for a bit, my arms crossed over my chest, my shoulders hunched. I hoped I wasn’t laying it on too thick. Probably not, because Dad looked relieved when I finally announced I wasn’t in the mood for TV and wanted to spend some time surfing the Net.

When I got upstairs, I closed my bedroom door, then booted up my computer. I’d bookmarked the Avalon phone directory when I’d been looking for my dad, so I had no trouble finding it again. I then held my breath as I entered Ethan’s name into the search field. I sighed in relief when his number popped up. Then I kind of laughed at myself, because it was way too early to feel anything even resembling relief. I didn’t know what the chances were that Ethan could help me, or that he would help me. But I was about to find out.