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this some kind of joke?” Jethro’s expression resembled a thundercloud. “You’re telling me there is a portal direct from where we are now to the mortal realm, but it will take me to a remote Scottish island?”

      Cal sighed. “The Spae originated as mortals on the Isle of Orkney. Centuries ago, when they were persecuted by witch finders and forced to flee their home, your convenience and ease of international travel were probably not uppermost in their minds. They were more concerned with their own safety.”

      “What is the problem?” Depositing her bag on the grass, Vashti surmised they were not likely to be departing immediately.

      “The problem is I will waste time getting from Orkney to mainland Scotland, then from there to a major US airport, where I’ll need to get another flight to Maine. Allowing for connections and delays, it will take the best part of two, possibly even three, days.”

      Since Vashti had no concept of mortal time, Jethro’s frustration was meaningless to her and she turned to Cal for an explanation. “It would take as long if Jethro returned to the palace with Stella and me to use the portal at La Casa Oscura. From there, he would enter the mortal realm in Barcelona and travel from Spain to the US. Either way, the journey is a long one. Which leaves me with one question.” He turned back to Jethro. “Since we are, as you said, up against the clock, do you have to go home first?”

      Something shifted in Jethro’s expression. The irritation was replaced by a guarded look, as though shutters had been abruptly pulled down. “Yes.”

      “When it comes to being stubborn, you remind me of someone I once knew.” Cal’s voice held a trace of frustration.

      “Who was that?”

      “His name was Arthur.” Cal’s annoyance shifted and became a reminiscent smile. “He didn’t turn out so bad.”

      Hoisting a large backpack onto one shoulder, Jethro held out a hand to Cal. “Sometimes stubbornness works. Have my money ready. The next time we meet, I’ll be bringing you your challenger.”

      Gripping the outstretched hand, Cal nodded. “Blind, arrogant confidence. King Arthur had that, too. It’s what we need right now. I guarantee Moncoya has it in abundance. Before you go, I need to have a few words with Vashti.” Jethro started to turn away but Cal stopped him. “You need to hear this.” Beckoning Vashti closer, he held up a small leather bag. “This contains a few items you will need.” Opening the bag, he began to produce the contents one by one. “Cash. US dollars. Do you know how to use this?”

      Conscious of Jethro’s disbelieving eyes on her face, Vashti tried to sound nonchalant. “Is it money? I’ve heard of it, but I have never used it.”

      “Be careful with it. Keep it safe. If you wave it around, someone will try to take it from you. And, while I’m fairly sure you’ll be able to stop them in their tracks, you don’t want to draw attention to yourself by killing a mugger.”

      Cal reached into the bag again. “This is a credit card. When the money runs out, you use this to get more. Jethro will show you how.” His eyes flicked over to Jethro. “Won’t you?” The response was a curt nod. “These are the papers you will need so you have a mortal identity. And, finally, this is a cell phone. Use this if you need to keep in touch with Jethro.”

      Vashti took the little gadget from him. “Can I use it to contact you?”

      Cal did his best to hide a smile. He didn’t quite succeed. “The signal here in Otherworld tends not to be great.”

      “A word. In private.” Jethro drew Cal to one side.

      Vashti couldn’t catch everything that was said but she was fairly sure it was about her from the turbulent set of Jethro’s features and the occasional phrase such as “got to be kidding me” and “a babysitter for your observer.” Whatever Cal said in reply appeared to have a calming effect. Nevertheless, Jethro’s muttered comment reached her as the two men made their way back to her. “It was your decision to send her with me. If something happens to her, she’s your responsibility, not mine.” Vashti suspected she was meant to overhear it.

      Cal scanned her face. “Sure about this?”

      “Absolutely.” She gave him her brightest smile. “At least I already know what the worst part of the journey will be.”

      “What’s that?” He lifted her bag and handed it to her.

      She cast a look at Jethro, whose expression refused to lighten. “The company.”

      * * *

      Jethro watched Vashti surreptitiously as she leaned against the rail of the boat, allowing the brisk breeze to catch her face. It was hard not to watch her. She had a sort of mesmerizing quality that drew his gaze even when he tried to fight it. He’d met plenty of faeries in his time, but she seemed to have more enchantment about her than all the others put together. As if this job wasn’t complicated enough already.

      He felt his initial annoyance at not being able to get a flight from Orkney to Glasgow dissipating with each mile the ferry covered. It was one of the most infuriating things about what he did. It should be simple. He wanted to get from one place to the next in the most direct way possible. Other people got paid to take him there. Yet there always seemed to be a problem. Patience wasn’t high on Jethro’s list of virtues. Over the years he’d developed his own ways of getting around inflexible travel schedules, but today money and intimidation hadn’t been options.

      They had passed through the portal from Spae to Orkney just in time to find out they’d missed the only flight leaving the island that day.

      Swallowing his annoyance, Jethro had resorted to finding an alternative. “It’s an island,” he’d said to the airport ticket agent. “There must be other ways of getting off it.”

      “The ferry to the mainland leaves in an hour,” she’d told him, a trace of disappointment in her eyes as she’d looked him up and down. “I hope you’ll visit Orkney again soon.”

      Now that he’d managed to phone ahead and get arrangements in place for the next stage of the journey, Jethro allowed himself to relax. Well, as close as he ever came to that sensation. What he did for a living never allowed him to completely unwind.

      “I’m going to get something to eat.” He raised his voice slightly above the noise of the engines, the wind and the cries of the gulls. “Since you’re following me, I thought you might want to join me?”

      Vashti turned her head and he was caught in the headlamp stare of those incredible eyes. Lighter and bluer than the sky above her head, they had a feline tilt below slightly slanting brows. The give-away sidhe ring of fire around her irises blazed bright, making the blue even clearer. Damn. He had a feeling those eyes were going to give him all kinds of problems.

      “I’m not a child in the schoolyard, tagging along behind you because I want to.” Her voice was haughty. “I’m observing you because it’s my duty.”

      He grinned. “Perhaps you’d like to observe me while I eat a burger?”

      Her expression was thoughtful. Then she nodded. “I’m hungry, too.”

      They made their way down to the boat’s restaurant. “Is it true what they say about faeries?” Jethro paused as he studied the self-service menu. “If we eat together, will I belong to you forever?”

      For the first time since he’d met her, Vashti smiled. It was an expression filled with genuine amusement and a hint of mischief. And it lit up the beige plastic and dull chrome environment like a flare launched into the midnight sky beyond the portholes. “Only if I want you.”

      Jethro returned the smile. He had no choice. It was irresistible. “I guess I’m safe?”

      “Totally.”

      And in that instant, in that bland environment smelling of fries and cheap coffee with dispirited travelers milling around them, Jethro felt something shift ever so slightly. It was a tiny

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