Feverborn
Page 49

“I’d rather she had on a fucking suit of armor,” Ryodan said coolly.
And a chastity belt, if I could read the look in a man’s eyes. And I could. “She’s a woman, Ryodan,” I said softly. “Get used to it. Dancer was right. We need to accept her.”
“Don’t tell me what to get used to, Mac. I’m the one that breaks all the rules, remember.”
I stared at him.
“This morning, with Christian at the abbey, you were thinking about when you watched us down in the dungeon. You were in my office, watching my monitors.”
“Stay the hell out of my head!” I barked. Or had there been a roach or three, lurking beneath his desk, reporting back?
“Don’t give it away so easily. You saw the forbidden.”
“You did the forbidden,” I said flatly. “And believe me, I keep quiet about a lot of things I see.”
He looked at Barrons. “She knows about the Highlander.”
Barrons said, “Yet said nothing and could have.”
“Did you skim it from my head, too?” I asked Barrons sourly.
“I accord you greater respect. And henceforth, Ryodan will, too.” It was a warning.
Ryodan said to me, “If you turn invisible again, I’ll ward you from my club. Permanently.” To Barrons, he said, “I’ll break as many rules as you do, brother.”
I supposed he also knew somehow that I was aware they were brothers, since he was no longer hiding it from me.
None of us said anything then. I sipped my drink and glanced back at Jada, but she was gone. “Speaking of the Highlander,” I couldn’t help but meddle, “you should tell Christian. He may be able to help.” I should have left it there, because the only thing that would motivate Ryodan was if there was something in it for him, but I couldn’t help adding, “Besides, it’s his family. He deserves to know.”
“Be wise, Mac. Never mention to me that you know again.”
“Fine,” I said irritably. Then, “Shit!” The Alina-thing was on the dance floor, turning in a circle, standing tall as if to peer over the sea of heads. Looking for someone. Looking as distraught and worried as she had the first time I’d seen her. Looking as if she’d been crying her eyes out. Looking so achingly like my sister that I wanted to burst into tears myself.
Beside me, Barrons tensed. I glanced at him. He was staring where I’d been staring.
“That woman looks like she could be your sister, Ms. Lane.”
He could see the Alina-thing, too?
I was so flabbergasted for a moment that I couldn’t draw breath to speak. “Wait, how do you know what my sister looks like?”
“Your albums. The photo you put in your parents’ mailbox, Darroc later hung on my door.”
Ah, I’d forgotten about that.
“Perhaps a Fae throwing a glamour?” he said, assessing me.
I hadn’t thought of that. If he could see her, too…well, I’d positively cotton to the idea if I hadn’t opened an empty casket in Ashford earlier today.
But…maybe it was a Fae and the same Fae had stolen her body just to play some kind of sick trick on me. Both Seelie and Unseelie could cast flawless glamour. And so long as I had Unseelie flesh in me, I couldn’t use my sidhe-seer senses to see past it.
Well, damn. That was a darned plausible explanation.
Except, I realized glumly, the first night I’d seen the illusion had been before I’d partaken of forbidden fruit.
I had no idea what to think.
Barrons could see my illusion.
Did Ryodan see it, too? I turned to look at him. He was staring directly at her. “Lovely woman,” he murmured.
“Stay away from her,” I snapped before I could stop myself. Whatever this thing was, I simply wouldn’t be able to stand seeing Ryodan get it on with something that looked like my sister. “I mean,” I added hastily, “because we have more important things to do.”
“You made time for it.”
“A Fae?” Barrons prompted again. Prompting was an unusual demonstration of interest on his part. Uh-oh.
“Who knows? Could be.” I shrugged. “Then again, don’t they say everyone has a doppelganger somewhere?”
Barrons gave me a level look. Something you want to talk about?
Nope. Not a thing, I said lightly.
Another thing I love about the man: he dropped it. That was going to be a hard favor for me to return when it was time.
“I assume you’re ready to look in that lake,” Ryodan said, tossing back the last of his drink.
I was only too happy to escape the apparently visible-by-all illusion on the dance floor before we collided again, further wrecking my tenuous grasp on reality. Alina was dead. I knew it in my bones. I knew it with utter and complete certainty. And if she wasn’t dead, nothing I thought I knew could be trusted. Not one damn thing. Easier to turn away from the illusion than confront it.
I tossed back my drink and stood.
Why not? I thought acerbically. Could things get any worse?
16
“What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive…”
I should never think that.
I know better.
Still, I persist, and every damned time the universe seizes the challenge on bullish horns, stomps its hoof, and snorts, “Hey, MacKayla Lane just said she doesn’t think things can get worse. We’ll show her!”
Ryodan took us to the dungeon level I’d glimpsed yesterday on his office monitors. Not to Dageus’s cell but to a small stone room down a narrow passageway.