“Can I keep hold of your hand?” she asked. “Please? I want to, and you… and I think you want me to.” The last words were rushed together, and now she paused. She turned her hand so it was palm up, and the car adjusted around them so it was suddenly an automatic. The gearshift had vanished. “Am I wrong?”

“No.” He squeezed her hand in his.

In all of his life, he’d never had a relationship. It was occasionally done in the High Court that two faeries chose to entwine their lives, but no one had ever looked at Devlin that way. He was deemed inapproachable, too fearsome to want, as if they recognized that he was not truly of their court. I am the innocent in this. The thought amused him: only two faeries had existed before him, and yet he was inexperienced in relationships.

What does it matter? I cannot stay with her. I cannot have a relationship.

Devlin stared out the window as they crossed the landscape. If Ani survived, Devlin would return her to the Dark Court, to Irial and Niall’s care, to the Hounds. They were her court and family. And he would return to Faerie. That was the order of the world. An aberration of emotion wasn’t going to change logical order.

Focus on Ani’s situation.

He pushed his emotions back under layers of High Court control and began to think through what Ani had revealed. Somewhere in the details he’d find the answer; it was simple logic. He just needed to focus.

The reasons Bananach had were serious enough that her interest wouldn’t wane. Murdering Bananach would be catastrophic, and killing Ani was untenable. So where does that leave us? They couldn’t spend Ani’s life running, but he had no better plan.

Ani watched Devlin close her out. She felt the walls go up, and if not for his hand in hers, she’d wonder if she were alone in the car.

He’s frightened of you, her steed suggested.

Ani didn’t want to talk about that. Instead she thought, What do you think of Barry for a name?

There was silence.

It’s short for Barracuda. It can be male or female. She switched lanes again and accelerated.

I like it, the steed growled happily. It’s mine. I am Barry.

She smiled to herself. One problem resolved, a few more to go….

Unfortunately, the rest of the day was spent in silence. Eventually, Barry whispered, Sleep, Ani. I will drive.

The next four days and nights were spent in much the same way—brief stops for food, hours of silence, and fitful rest while Barry carried her farther and farther away from everyone she knew. They passed through the middle of the States, headed west to where there were wide-open parks, natural areas where camping and running were possible. They drove through every city or remotely steel-filled town they could, slowing their progress with mortal traffic, but hiding themselves more fully from faeries. If not for the threat behind them, it would be the start of a great trip. It still could be if he would let me in. She had found Devlin impossibly tempting when she’d met him, and her opinion of him had only gone up after fighting next to him. The revelations he’d shared made her like him, but the passion he hid—and revealed during fighting and running—made her want him.

But, as they traveled, Devlin kept his walls up. He spoke less and less, and when he did, it was polite but distant. The silence and distance in such close quarters was maddening. After their brief revelations, she hoped there was something happening between them, but his actions implied otherwise.

Late on what Ani thought was the sixth day of driving, she pulled into a motel parking lot. The building was surrounded by a thick steel fence; the balconies on the rooms each had steel rails; and the windows had steel safety bars. With the faery aversion to iron and, consequently, to steel, it was the ideal place for them to rest. As long as the building didn’t catch fire, they were safe from faery and mortal dangers.

“I’ll stay with Barry while you get a room.” Ani touched Devlin’s hand briefly, drawing him out of whatever contemplation he was in.

He looked at her in confusion. “What?”

She gestured to the humming lights that said vacancy and wondered if he’d ever stayed in a motel. Somehow, she doubted that this was what things looked like in Faerie. “A room. Do you have money or a credit card?”

“Yes, but…” Devlin frowned. “Barry?”

“My steed”—she ran a hand over the dash—“has been Named.”

“I could’ve given it a name,” Devlin grumbled.

He’s still upset over the seat adjustments, Barry said with marked amusement. His knees… and head… and perhaps arms are a bit sore, I expect.

Ani wisely didn’t respond to either of them. All she said was, “I’ll be right here. Just outside the door, inside Barry the whole time.”

Helpfully, Barry opened Devlin’s door.

“Why are we stopping? It can—” His seat fell backward. “Barry can drive while you rest.”

“I want a shower. Pillow. Bed.” Ani gestured. “Please? A room for the night.”

“I don’t suppose it matters.” He sounded as exhausted as she felt, and Ani knew then that he was no closer to figuring out a plan beyond “stay moving” than he’d been when they left.

We could kill the raven one, Barry suggested.

Privately, Ani agreed, but she didn’t know if Devlin would go for that plan. Bananach was who she was. If moving and hiding for a while would be enough to make her forget about Ani, that was a better plan than asking Devlin to murder his sister.

Ani closed her eyes to wait for Devlin to return. The grungiest of rooms sounded like a treat just then. Hot water and an actual bed were rarely as tempting as they were in that moment.

They’d be even better if he’d share them….

Rae had thought that being trapped in the cave was frustrating, but being caught inside Sorcha’s palace made her realize how very fortunate she’d been. In the cave, Rae had been alone, but she’d not been at anyone’s mercy. Here, she was Sorcha’s prisoner; here, she was the only link between Faerie itself and the queen who was to keep the world in order.

And has lost interest in doing so.

Sorcha had retreated to a dream so she could watch her absent son.

One of the veiled mortals sat observing the sleeping queen; the other had left the room to speak to whomever she consulted to find information for the queen. Neither spoke to Rae unless it was unavoidable. They kept themselves far from her, sitting on the step of the dais. Even with the room empty of faeries, they didn’t step on the top of the dais or near the chair of twisted strands of silver that sat there. They remained silent and distant.

Fear of her or me?

The room in which Rae waited was far larger than the cave. It was vast, fading to shadowed reaches on one side and enormous arched windows on the opposite side. The farthest corner of the room was lined with barred doorways, some covered by ancient tapestries. Beyond the mosaics that surrounded the sleeping queen’s glass bed, the floor was of slick black rock, and the whole of the room was interspersed with white pillars supporting a star-scattered ceiling.

Rae stood and approached the queen. The glass had taken on a deep-blue tint; it darkened the longer Sorcha slept. And as it darkened, more and more faeries drifted into sleeps from which they would not awaken. Rae could feel them, feel their dreams beyond the room where she attended the sleeping queen.

Where are you, Devlin? Please, please, come home. But wishes didn’t change the waking world, and hoping to be rescued was as futile now as it had been in her mortal life.