‘Can’t, or won’t?’ he asked. Finn wasn’t the only one who caught on quickly.

‘Can’t,’ I said. ‘The info came with a gag clause—a magical one.’

‘I see.’ He turned to me, his usual impassive expression back in place. ‘Perhaps you should tell me all you are able.’

I started talking, beginning with Hugh’s early morning phone call, the dead faeling wearing a Glamour spell, the argument with Witch-bitch Helen, right up to the silver-in-the-circle débâcle. He stopped me now and again to ask a quiet clarifying question, then resumed pacing—well, not exactly pacing, but his movements were enough to make me think ‘agitated’. But as he kept shooting glances into the shadows gathering around the far-away doorway, I didn’t think it was my story making him edgy.

‘Now this is where it gets tricky,’ I said, shifting in my perch in the V of one of the diamond-shaped windows to a more comfortable position. I started to tell him about my visit to Disney Heaven, expecting the goddess’ strangling hands to cut me off any second. To my surprise the gag clause turned positively garrulous, and the words came streaming out in one long, breath-stealing rush: ‘—and the goddess wants me to answer someone’s prayers and stop whoever is killing the faelings because of the curse and ultimately break the damn thing.’

I stopped suddenly, as if released from whatever magical compulsion had kept me talking, and sank to my knees on the rough carpet, gulping for air. I stayed there, relearning how to breathe, awash with relief that I’d finally managed to tell someone about my heavenly trip.

Malik crouched in front of me, his elegant fingers clasped together. ‘And you have not been able to speak about this to anyone but me?’

‘Not so far.’

‘Which would suggest that those you have not been able to talk to are connected to these deaths in some way?’

He’d reached the same conclusion I had about the Goddess’ horned god photofit.

‘No,’ I said firmly, ‘Finn’s got nothing to do with this.’

‘Genevieve.’ Malik tipped my chin up, his expression gentle. ‘We all have the capacity to justify unimaginable actions when desperation and a belief in a greater good persuades us that they are the lesser evil.’

I ducked my head and contemplated his bare feet; they were long and elegant too. ‘Unimaginable actions’ added up to when he’d attacked and left me for dead when I was fourteen. And then there was the other time— or times? Did the last one count, seeing as I was already dead?—that he’d killed me. He’d had good reasons, and I’d forgiven him. Hell, I’d askedhim to kill me that last time, though to judge by the sorrow haunting his words, he hadn’t forgiven himself.

I reached out, touched his clasped hands briefly. ‘This isn’t you we’re talking about,’ I said quietly.

Regret flickered in his eyes. ‘The satyr is no different to any other, Genevieve. And he has shown he has both the will and capability to kill.’

‘Finn hasn’t killed anyone …’ but even as I said it I remembered he hadonce set a trap to kill Malik, and he’d staked a vamp on his horns (the vamp had later vanished, so I didn’t think Finn had actually killed him). Both incidents had been to defend me. ‘Finn wouldn’t kill an innocent, whatever the end result.’

‘But you admit the satyr could kill if he thought the death deserved,’ Malik said.

There was no hint of accusation in his mild tone, but I didn’t like where he was going. I narrowed my eyes. ‘Why are you so hot to blame Finn?’

‘I am trying to divine the goddess’ intentions, this is all. Do you believe She means that you should bear a child to break the curse?’

‘Fine, side-step the issue then,’ I muttered, not caring if I sounded like a sulky child. Whatever I’d expected him to do after I’d told him about my heavenly trip, this wasn’t it.

‘Genevieve, it is not I who is side-stepping the issue.’

No, it was me. Not that I knew what I’d expected him to do or say differently. I picked at a snag in the blue carpet as I tried to work out what I wanted.

‘Genevieve?’

‘Yes!’ I ground out, yanking out the thread. ‘I think that’s what She means.’

‘And what would happen if you told the fae about your goddess’ command?’

I threw my hands up. ‘They’d do what they’ve been doing all along, of course: try and convince me to have a child.’

He cast a quick look past my shoulder, making my back crawl, then focused back on me. ‘Until now you have refused to bear a child because the outcome—breaking the curse—was not a certainty,’ he said. ‘But if the goddess has provided that certainty, then there is no reason for you to refuse any longer.’

I scowled. ‘Got it in one.’

‘So why do you not have a child as the fae wish, then this will all be over?’ he asked in a perfectly rational and totally aggravating tone.

I jerked my head up. ‘And what if I’ve misread the goddess’ commands because I’m so fixated on what the fae want?’ Yep, there it was: I wanted him to come up with a different explanation for what She’d told me, one that didn’t involve me getting pregnant. ‘Or what if the reason I can’t tell anyone else is because they’d all jump right into the curse-breaking side of things and no one would look for whoever is murdering the faelings?’ There, side-step that!‘And even if I did have a kid and break the curse, who’s to say the killer wouldn’t kill again?’

‘The police are already looking for this killer, and they will continue to do so, regardless of the curse.’ He studied me, his expression thoughtful. ‘Genevieve, do you not want a child?’

Fuck, no!‘I’m only just twenty-five, Malik—I’m too young to be tied up with a kid.’

‘Yes, you are young, but the child would be an adult in a few years, and you will still be young. You are sidhe, a near-immortal; you will be young for centuries yet. It is but a small portion of your life to devote to a child, if the end result is one you desire?’

I jumped up, frustration, fury and fear raging through me. ‘Listen!’ I jabbed a finger at him. ‘One: if I were ever to have a child, then there’s no way I’d let it fend for itself, just because it was a so-called adult. The child would be my kid for life.’ I jabbed at him again, my voice rising. ‘Two: do you really think I haven’t thought all this out for myself? And three: what the hell do you think you’re doing? This has nothing to do with you—you’re not fae. And if Tavish has put you up to persuade me, then you can tell him from me: it won’t fucking work. I do notwant a kid, and unless I get something more significant than some iffy photofit and some cryptic clues, then I’m not going to, not now, and not ever. I willfind another way to break the curse, even if it kills me.’

He rose in one graceful, effortless movement, concern and bewilderment on his face. ‘I understood that this situation was not one you wanted, Genevieve, or were comfortable with, but I did not realise that having a child engendered such fear in you.’ He reached out, but I twisted away before he could touch me. ‘Why is that?’

‘You’re asking me?’ I clenched my fists, trying to keep from shouting at him. ‘When you know what happened between my mother and father? What he did to her? Talk about a bad start in life!’ I snorted. ‘And it didn’t get any better, did it? Hell, my own father married me off to a psychotic, sadistic sucker, then I spent the next ten years being a pawn in some shitty Prohibition game cooked up between the lot of you, a game Ididn’t even know I was playing. Oh, and let’s not forget, I’ve died three— No, wait, that might even be fourtimes now. Four times, Malik! I might be sidhe and nearly immortal, but that’s pushing it for anyone. Next time my death might stick, my body might actually fade, and there will be nothing for me to come back to. No wayam I bringing a kid into a world like this, not with all the bad luck and tainted blood in my heritage, even if there wasn’t the damn fertility curse to deal with.’