LITMIR.BIZ

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darkness.

      “You called,” Reth murmured in my ear as he held me in the nothingness. “I knew you would.” I could hear the smile in his voice, the triumph. I had sworn I’d never use his real name again, never call on him. Instead I’d just negated all the commands to stay away from me. And my wording—why had I said I needed him? He could twist that any way he wanted. But the memory of the vampire’s lips on my neck made me shudder. It didn’t matter tonight.

      “Just take me home, okay?”

      He tightened his arms around my waist, his torso pressed against my back. I could feel his heart through my shirt, its beat strong but far too slow. “Home then.” He laughed his silver laugh.

      That should have warned me.

      I kept my eyes closed, trying to ignore his body against mine. Faeries couldn’t care less about sex and physicality, but they did care about manipulation, and Reth knew how much I craved contact—any kind of contact. Growing up the way I had, there was never enough affection, never enough attention. More than Raquel, more than Lish, more than anyone, he knew how deeply lonely I was. I hated him for it.

      I expected him to take my hand and walk; instead all I felt was a slight breeze, then it was bright and warm. I opened my eyes to a room. Not mine. The light was soft, emanating from an unidentifiable source. Elegant furniture was placed at random, and the walls appeared to be solid, pale rock. The fabrics were all silks and velvets; deep reds and royal purples with gold accents. There was no door.

      “I said home.”

      He laughed again. “You didn’t say whose.” Furious and too tired to deal with any more faerie crap, I opened my mouth to tell him exactly where to take me and where he could go after that. I wasn’t sure a faerie could obey a command to go to hell, but I was going to find out. Before I could say a word he lifted his slender hand and stroked my throat.

      “Shhh,” he whispered.

      My voice was gone. Not scratchy-throat-rasping gone. Completely gone. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t even whisper. I wanted to find the genius who thought we could control faeries and kick him where it hurt. Twisting away from Reth’s arms, I rushed over to put one of the antique-looking couches between us. “Fix it,” I mouthed.

      He smiled at me. His eyes were golden like ripe wheat and his hair shone nearly the same shade. Everything about him was gold, except his laugh. That had always been silver. I couldn’t look at his face anymore without risking never wanting to look away, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off him and let down my guard. I was so dead.

      “Evelyn.” My name in his mouth was like a caress. “Why are you fighting me? You want to be with me. And I want no one else forever.”

      I had goose bumps. Reth had probably taken countless mortal girls into the Faerie Realms. He knew we didn’t last forever. Either he was manipulating me again, which was likely, or was up to something seriously frightening. “Why?” I mouthed. I knew he was telling the truth—he wanted me. And that made everything even harder; not many people in my life ever wanted me. My own parents had abandoned me when I was a toddler.

      He sat gracefully. A small claw-footed table next to his chair held a crystal bottle and two goblets. He poured a clear liquid into both of them, then held one up to me. “Drink?”

      I shook my head. I wasn’t born yesterday. You never, ever accept food or drink from a faerie anywhere, especially on their turf. You’ll never get out again.

      Nonplussed, he drank it himself. I racked my brain for what to do without my voice. Then, idiot that I was, I realized I still had Tasey and the knife. I was clutching them both so hard my hands ached. Glad my actions were hidden by the couch, I put Tasey away—not any good for more than a few seconds with faeries. With a hand free, I pushed the panic button again. I had no idea where we were, but really, really hoped it was somewhere Lish could send a retrieval.

      “Aren’t you tired of being cold?” he asked, trying to draw me in. “Cold and alone. You don’t have to be. Our time grows short.” His eyes were pools of amber, deep and eternal. Pools you could drown in. “Dance with me again.”

      I squeezed my eyes shut. He was right. I was tired. I had been alone my whole life. The foster homes, the Center—what was the difference? Why was I resisting him? I felt his hand on mine; he was so warm. The heat started to spread up my arm, slow and insistent. Why not give him my heart, my soul? No one else wanted them.

      He could feel my surrender and pulled me close. “There is no one else for you, my love. Let me fill you.” There was no one else for me. I opened my eyes and looked into Reth’s golden ones—and the image of other eyes, eyes as clear as water, flooded into my memory. Why I thought of Lend right then I have no idea, but it was enough to pull me back. I lifted the silver knife and held it between us like a talisman.

      Reth looked surprised, then angry. “What are you doing, child?” He hadn’t let go of my other hand, but I resisted the warmth. It was barely past my shoulder, now slowing. “Don’t you know what I’m trying to give to you?”

      I shoved the flat of the blade against his chest and he let go of my hand, backing up a step. Iron is the best against faeries, but they aren’t fans of silver, either. “Enough,” I mouthed, pointing to my neck. Glaring, he flicked his hand and my throat tingled.

      “Why are you fighting this?”

      “Because you’re a lunatic! I don’t want this! I don’t belong to you! I never will!”

      A half smile twisted his perfect face. “You’re wrong.”

      “Well, I’ve got a silver knife that begs to differ. Now—”

      “Take you home?”

      I nodded.

      His smile spread. “That wasn’t a command, and you’ve got to sleep sometime.” Before I could command him to take me home he disappeared, his silvery laugh lingering in the absence.

      I was starting to miss the vampires.

       FAERLY STUPID

      I screamed for him to come back, then sat heavily on one of the couches. He was right. I was exhausted from not sleeping last night plus a very full day and rather stressful evening. And if I fell asleep, I couldn’t hang on to the knife. And if I couldn’t hang on to the knife …

      It was a problem. I didn’t know what he was trying to do to me, and I didn’t want to find out.

      Not surprisingly, there was no signal on my communicator. I didn’t even know if I was technically on the planet anymore. The Faerie Realms coexist with ours, but cross time and space and all sorts of other boring and weird physics things that I never cared about before now. I added Faerie Realms and knife fighting on my list of things to pay more attention to.

      I could call for him using his real name again, and he’d have to come. But that worked out so well before. The phrasing I used still killed me. I need you? The way I figured it, he took that as the command and would now fill what he thought my need for him was. If I called him back and negated my command before he took my voice again, there was no telling how he would interpret it. If you give a faerie conflicting commands, they can’t fill them and therefore come up with something completely different (and always bad). I was so screwed.

      Faeries are the slipperiest things in the world. IPCA (before it was IPCA and back when it was APCA and all sorts of individual country acronyms) worked for decades to find a faerie, any faerie, and learn his true name. Their plan involved using pretty young girls as kidnap bait. Dozens of pretty young girls, none of whom were ever seen again. Except one girl, who discovered a great secret.

      Faeries are unaffected by alcohol, but much to her surprise—and the faeries’ undoing—they get very, very drunk on carbonation. Using copious amounts of Coke, she was able to

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