He buried his face in my hair. ‘Gods, Gen, I’m so sorry,’ he whispered, his warm breath feathering along my cheek and curling desire deep inside me. My own magic stirred, and the desire fanned hot, turning into lust, and I pressed myself against him, eager to get closer, not caring about anything other than being with him. His arms tightened. ‘I’m so sorry. I tried to explain about the dryad and the spell, but Helen—’

Reality crashed over me like a cold shower and I jerked out of his arms, blinking as I stepped back. I stared at the pavement, getting my heart and my libido under control. Shit, what the hell was wrong with me? It was only one kiss! But even as I asked myself, the answer came: it wasn’t just the kiss. There was Tavish’s Sleeping Beauty spell, and whatever spin he’d added to it. Damn kelpie.And who knew what other magics the goddess had sicced on me? Still, looked like Helen Crane was good for something: the mere mention of her name was a sure-fire passion-killer.

I fixed her beautiful patrician face in my mind and carefully lifted my eyes to Finn’s, relieved that the urge to throw myself into his arms was nothing more than a bad idea. What was it he’d been saying?

Oh yeah.‘Finn, this isn’t about me stealing the spell,’ I said, ‘or about me using it. For whatever reason, Helen is out of control. And she’s abusing the powers of her job.’

‘Hell’s thorns, Gen’—he ran an agitated hand through his hair—‘don’t you think I don’t know that?’

‘Hugh thinks you could maybe talk to her, make her see sense?’ I said tentatively, then promptly forgot everything else as I watched him rub his left horn. My own fingers itched with the need to join his, to see if his horns were as hot and responsive as I remembered …

‘Helen’s having a rough time just now,’ he sighed. ‘It’s complicated.’

Helen equals passion-killer: check.‘Complicated!’ I pulled a ‘heard it all before’ face.

‘Yeah, I know. But this really is.’ He hesitated, looking at the police station behind me for a moment, then lowered his voice. ‘It’s about Helen’s son. He turned up a few months ago and it’s causing a lot of problems.’

‘Helen’s got a son?’ Confusion filled me. ‘When did that happen?’

Finn’s perplexed expression told me I should know what he was talking about. Part of me thought maybe I did, but the rest of me was more interested in his broad shoulders, and in him losing the suit jacket, oh, and the moss-green shirt that matched his eyes, and where that might lead …

… and my mind filled with images of a cute baby satyr with green eyes and tiny horns. Though, of course, the baby would only have horns if it was a boy. If we had a girl, she’d be sidhe, like me. Then again, I’d have to make a conscious decision to have a little girl, otherwise the magic would default to the father’s— Finn’s—genes for sex, species and magic. In fact, I’d have to make a conscious decision to become pregnant (unless there were some truly extraordinary circumstances and a fertility rite involved) … So, a baby boy with cute horns, tiny hooves and a fluffy tail, or a baby girl with my own amber-coloured cat-like eyes—

‘—and Helen gave him up to the sidhe when he was born, so he’s a changeling,’ Finn finished. He looked at me like he obviously expected me to comment. When I just stared at him, bemused, he added with a touch of exasperation, ‘Hell’s thorns, Gen, you want me to talk to Helen, and I’m trying to explain why there’s a problem. Helen’s having difficulty dealing with it. It’s a very emotional time for her, and I know that’s not an excuse …’ he added quickly, seeing my expression.

No, it’s not,I thought, breaking eye contact with him before the broody baby nightmares started up again. I stared at the stone archway at the end of the road. It was safer. So Helen’s son was a changeling—not that I was entirely sure what being a changeling changed about a mortal, other than being brought up in the Fair Lands from birth. Briefly I wondered how old he was if he was back and causing problems? Mid to late teens, maybe? But regardless, why was I standing here listening to Finn go on about Helen, his ex, while thinking about having his baby? Either I’d turned into a total idiot without noticing— or someone, like maybe, oh, a certain goddess, or the magic?—was messing with me.

And why the hell was Finn so concerned about Helen’s kid, anyway? After all, he’d told me there was nothing between them any more— maybe I really was an idiot to believe that?—and that the baby wasn’t his the last time this had all come up … my gut knotted as I suddenly realised he hadn’t. He’d clammed up instead.

‘Witches always have daughters if the dad is sidhe, don’t they?’ I asked, interrupting his not-so-lyrical waxing about Helen.

‘What?’

I risked a quick look at him. He was frowning at me like I’d suddenly started spouting pixie.

‘That’s how you get more witches,’ I said, answering his question literally. ‘If the dad is human and the kid is a boy, then they’re a wizard: if it’s a girl, they’re a witch’s daughter. And if the dad is lesser fae, then they always have a boy: a faeling …’ I trailed off as his frown deepened into understanding.

‘Helen’s son isn’t mine, Gen,’ he said, a muscle jumping in his jaw and an odd, indecipherable look crossing his face. ‘His father was a human she met before I knew her. If you wanted to know if I had a child, all you had to do was ask.’

I frowned. I should’ve done … only for some reason, I’d never thought about it. But then, curiosity about Helen’s son, along with a lot of other things I should’ve been finding out about, had been pushed out of my mind by the Valium effects of the Sleeping Beauty spell Tavish had sicced on me.

‘You’re right. I should’ve asked, and I’m sorry I didn’t.’ I gave him a rueful smile, and considered whether I should say I was sorry about Helen having a bad time, but I couldn’t; it would be a lie. But I felt I should make an effort … ‘Well, at least that explains why she’s such a—’ I stopped myself from saying bitch, and substituted a more politic, ‘Why she’s such an unhappy person all the time. And why she blings herself up like a Christmas tree with all those spells; she must have lost a lot of her magic when she gave birth to a wizard.’

‘She didn’t,’ Finn said, his expression verging on impatient. ‘She got to keep it when she gave him up.’

I gaped at him. ‘Really? I didn’t know that was possible.’

‘Apparently it is.’ He held up his hands, signalling an end to the subject. ‘Look, I’ll talk to Helen again, but she’s only one problem. There’s the rest of the fae to worry about, and after what happened yesterday with the dryad, it’s going to be more difficult keeping you safe.’

I sighed. Looked like flirty Finn had disappeared overnight while I’d been in gaol, leaving serious Finn, with all his white knight tendencies, back in charge.

‘Finn, I thought we’d got past this,’ I said, keeping my voice neutral. ‘I can look after myself, I’m not helpless.’

‘’Course not, but—’ Finn grasped my hands, and green and gold magic sparked between us. He shot a surprised look at it, then appeared to accept it.

I gritted my teeth, chanting Helen, Helen, Helenin my head, trying to ignore the thought that kissing him would be so much better than talking.

‘Look, Gen, I’m sorry I went on about Helen. I know it looks like I’m thinking more of her than you, but— Hell’s thorns, there’s things we should talk about, and I know you can look after yourself, but it’s not going to be easy dealing with the dryads, or the others. I can help. Why don’t we go somewhere quiet, and talk?’

Just as I was about to say an eager, unthinking yes, a loud cough brought my attention back to Victoria Harrier, who was standing next to the limo, not trying to hide either the interested expression on her face, or the fact that she was waiting.