“No,” he said glumly. “But I’m home.”
“Yeah, well. We’re a full service operation.”
Raj looked at me, glass-green eyes solemn. “I thought I was going to die there.”
“You didn’t. But you should get some sleep. You’ve been through a lot, and—”
I didn’t get to finish that sentence. Raj’s father, Samson, came stalking from the shadows of the alley. His hands were balled into fists, and his pupils were narrowed to hairline slits, making him look alien and strange. “You,” he spat, angling toward me. “What are you doing here, whore? You have no right to passage in these lands.”
“You really don’t like me, do you?” I asked, trying not to let my irritation show. “What have I ever done to you? I saved your son. Twice now. Doesn’t that at least warrant not calling me a whore every time you get the chance?”
“Consider your answer carefully, Samson,” said Tybalt, in a mild tone. “I find myself awaiting your reply with great interest.”
Samson glared. Then he turned to Raj, dismissing us. “Are you injured?”
“No, Father, I—”
Samson’s backhand caught Raj across the cheek, snapping his head to the side. He made a startled mewling noise. I started forward before I realized I was going to move and stopped as Tybalt’s hand closed around my upper arm, holding me in place.
“No,” he said, very softly. “You cannot intervene.”
“I hate your rules,” I muttered, but stayed where I was. Raj was a teenage boy. He was my unofficial squire. And he was also a Prince of Cats, and that meant some battles, he had to fight on his own.
“Sometimes,” said Tybalt, “so do I.”
Raj turned back to his father, eyes wide. Then he straightened, gathering himself with a visible effort. He was tired. He’d been through a lot. Coming home and getting challenged by his father probably hadn’t been included in his plans for the day. “You do not strike me,” he said, practically spitting out his words. “I am not yours to strike.”
“You are my son.”
“I am a Prince of Cats.”
Samson sneered. “What Prince needs a changeling
“I did the best I could,” said Raj.
“You didn’t do enough.”
There was a moment where things could have gone very, very badly—even worse than they already were, and they weren’t going all that well. Raj looked at his father, measuring him, clearly assessing his chances of winning. Samson glared back.
And finally, Raj smiled. “I can beat you,” he said. “I’ve been able to beat you for a long time. You know that too, or you wouldn’t be goading me. I love you, Father. I don’t like you very much. I think maybe you shouldn’t come around me for a little while.” He turned to Tybalt. “May I be excused? I want a bath and a nap and a meal, not necessarily in that order.”
Tybalt inclined his head. “Rest,” he said. “I will be away; the Court is yours until my return.”
“Yes, Uncle.” Raj’s eyes remained on Tybalt. He seemed to be paying no attention to anything else. Yet when Samson’s hand lashed toward his face again, he grabbed his father’s wrist without hesitation. Raj wasn’t a big kid, maybe five foot six and thin as a rail despite the amount I knew he ate. Samson still struggled against his grip like it was iron.
“Let me go,” he commanded.
“No,” said Raj. He sounded exhausted. “You brought me here because I was going to be stronger than you. Because you wanted to have power, and this was the closest you could come. You didn’t save Mother when she got sick—you wouldn’t let me feed her, because you said future Kings couldn’t show favors. That’s how you see Kings. That’s not how I see them. That’s not how the people I trust see them. I don’t have to listen to you.” He let go of Samson’s wrist, pushing him away at the same time, so that he went stumbling backward.
Samson started to step forward again. Tybalt was suddenly between Raj and his father. I hadn’t even seen him start to move.
“Your challenge has been refused, Samson,” he said quietly. “Now trouble the boy no further, or you’ll answer to me.”
Samson’s eyes narrowed. He looked past Tybalt to me, hissed, and spun on his heel, stalking toward the shadows. He stopped just before stepping into them, saying, “You will regret this.” Then he was gone, leaving Raj, Tybalt, and me alone in the center of the alley.
The cats on the crates and cans lining the walls watched us with unblinking interest, as though this was the sort of entertainment they expected to receive every afternoon. One yawned and began washing himself.
I shook my head. “Sometimes I’m not sure whose politics are worse, you know.”
“All politics are terrible,” said Tybalt. He looked to Raj. “Go rest in my quarters. Your father is a fool, but even a fool will think twice before troubling you.”
“And if you want to head for my place when you wake up, May will be happy to let you order pizza,” I added. “She’s worried about you.”
Raj smiled a little. “Okay. See you both later.” He darted in and hugged me before turning to run into the shadows opposite the ones his father had disappeared through. He should have run right into the wall. Instead, he ran through it, and he was gone.
I pulled the Luidaeg’s charm out of my pocket. It was still glowing neutral. Chelsea wasn’t nearby. “Can you get me back to Tamed Lightning?” I asked, stepping closer to Tybalt. “I should get back to Quentin and the car and let him know Raj is okay. He’s got to be worried by now.”
“How angry do you think he’ll be that we went to Annwn without him?” asked Tybalt.
I laughed, a little unsteadily. This close, his presence was distracting. “On a scale of one to livid? Livid times ten. That’s the sort of field trip nobody likes to be left out of.”
“Perhaps we should have sent a postcard before departing. ‘Deserted heaths are lovely, it’s probably best you aren’t here.’”
I laughed and was still laughing when Tybalt took my arm and led me back into the shadows. They were no warmer this time than they’d been before, but they felt safer. I was getting more comfortable in them, and more at ease with the fact that Tybalt had me—he had me, and there was no way he was going to let me go while we were out there in the dark. Tybalt would never let me go. Maybe it was time for me to come to terms with that idea.
We ran together through the shadows. The blood on my hand was freezing again, but that didn’t matter; I could wash it off when we got back to Tamed Lightning. And after that—
I never finished the thought. Something slammed into us, knocking my arm out of Tybalt’s hand. I cried out before I remembered how thin the air was on the Shadow Roads. Tybalt roared…and the roar of another Cait Sidhe answered him, followed by another, and another. We were surrounded by his subjects. In the dark. Where I couldn’t see, or help him fight them.
Tybalt threw me onto the Shadow Roads once, to save my life. I nearly died of hypothermia and lack of oxygen. I couldn’t help remembering that as snarls and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh filled the darkness. I tried reaching toward the sound, hoping to find something I could grab onto, but my hands found only emptiness and cold.
Then the claws found my arm, and there was sudden heat as my blood ran down my skin, filling the air with the smell of copper. Maybe that’s how Tybalt found me. He grabbed my outstretched arm, hissing, “Run,” with an urgency raw enough to be almost as frightening as the idea of being stranded on the Shadow Roads. He jerked me forward. I felt something pop inside my wrist, a single white-hot flare of pain. Then we were falling, so fast and far that I wasn’t sure we’d ever hit the bottom. The sound of roaring grew distant behind us.
“Hold on,” whispered Tybalt. The roaring faded into silence—we were too far away to hear them. That seemed to be what he’d been waiting for. He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close, and leaped out of the darkness, into the light.
