Free Blood Faerie by India Drummond Page B

were always in such a hurry. He raised a haughty eyebrow.

    “You seem angry. Have we done something wrong?”
     
    Cridhe waved his hand, dismissing the thought. “Today you will find Craig Laughlin. Make sure he drinks no spirits and eats no meat.”

    Jay and Aaron exchanged a glance. “But—” Aaron began.
     
    Jay cut him off, keeping his eyes on Cridhe and displaying the right amount of fear. “Yes, Master,” he said, giving Aaron a firm shake of his head. “Where should we meet you?”

    Cridhe smiled. At least one of them seemed to understand. He considered the question. It didn’t matter where, as long as it was outside the sphere of kingdom influence, so it had to be an area populated by humans. He liked the idea of going back to Perth, to lay this third sacrifice at Eilidh’s feet, so to speak. He wanted to impress her, but he couldn’t let himself get too close again. Not until he was sure she was ready for him.
     
    “Where do you live, Aaron?”

    “Over at Muirton,” the man said, his face plainly showing he didn’t like the direction Cridhe was taking.
     
    “Isn’t there a school nearby?”

    “The Grammar is just down the way. Off Gowans.”
     
    Cridhe nodded. “That’s the one. Bring him there. I’ll meet you two hours past dark.” He did not intend to pay any mind to human timekeeping. He would come when he was ready, and they would wait. He knew that, and so did they.

    ***

    Breaking about the hundredth rule that day, Munro opened his front door and stood aside so Eilidh could enter. By this time, he figured he was in so deep that one more thing wasn’t going to tip the scales. When darkness started to fall in the park, he’d felt hungry, tired, and exposed. The only problem was that Eilidh had insisted they walk to his house rather than taking the bus or catching a cab. He watched her as they walked together and saw how warily she kept an eye on the cars. She seemed more concerned about them than any of the people they passed.

    He also noticed that she tended to watch and assess like a cop. She would take it all in, categorise, weigh, and filter, as though constantly calculating threats. When she told him about the murder, she’d also had to explain quite a bit about herself and her past. He knew she’d been the faerie equivalent of a cop or maybe military was closer to the mark. She called herself a Watcher, and he thought that was a pretty good description of what he did as well.
     
    What he didn’t understand was her exile. She glossed over it and said it didn’t concern him. Now wasn’t the time to press, but he wanted answers. He didn’t know what kind of crime a faerie could commit that would merit exile, but from the solemn frown on her face, he knew she hadn’t been caught crossing against a red light.

    He stood for a long moment, holding the front door open. Eilidh peered into the darkened entryway from the front step. She glanced up and down the street, obviously uncomfortable ever since they’d entered his neighbourhood. She didn’t seem to like the feel of the houses. Finally, she met his eyes. “You enter first, Quinton.”
     
    He loved the way she said his name like a secret. Slipping his keys into his pocket, he stepped inside and flicked on the lights. When she didn’t come in right away, he said, “In your own time.” He left the front door open and went to see if he had anything in the kitchen to offer a guest. He never really had company. He’d dated some in recent years, but rarely, if ever, brought anyone home.

    When he turned, Eilidh had come in, hugging her arms as though certain the place might collapse around her. Considering that he’d found her in a crumbling old church, he didn’t understand her fear. “Everything okay?” He’d never seen her so vulnerable.
     
    She nodded and then suddenly seemed flustered. “I have no hearth gift to offer.”

    He tilted his head and smiled at her, hoping to put her at ease. She wasn’t