“So your mom knew it was because of the fairy blood?”
“Yeah. That was when she told me the truth about my father, but Dylis had told me years before.”
“Do you want to meet him?”
Not now with the deal with Shea hanging over his head. “There was a time when I did. When I wanted to know why he’d left me and when I thought I’d be better off in Annwyn, but not anymore. I have no desire to go to Court and be surrounded by fairies.”
She sipped her soft drink and he could see the questions forming in her mind. She wanted to know more about Court. Humans might have forgotten about Annwyn, but when something reopened that door old longing rose up. That was why it was so easy for fairies to trick the unaware into going to Annwyn and giving up their souls, or firstborns while still in the womb.
“So why are you human, not fairy?”
“Dylis didn’t explain?”
She shook her head. “No, she made me memorize a bunch of rules.”
That sounded like Dylis. “Those rules could save your life. Did she tell you about iron and water?”
“Yes.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an iron bolt.
Caspian put his hand out and she placed it in his palm. There was a jolt of pain as he fisted his hand around it for a few heartbeats. He could feel his skin heating. Then he handed it back and showed her the red burn marks. They would heal overnight, but it would prove his point.
“I am fairy. Iron burns me. But I don’t have a fear of running water like they do.”
“You said you were human.”
“No, I said I was mortal. There is a difference. I was born here; I am a changeling. If my father had taken Mom back to Annwyn to give birth, I’d have been a soulless fairy. Fairies need humans to breed.”
“You make it sound so… cold.”
“Fairies aren’t like you. They have different morals, different ethics, their world is based on power and deals. Their word is their bond. The King’s word is law. They deal in death. The Victorians did every human a great disservice in reducing fairies to humanoid butterflies.”
“You speak as though you are one of them.”
“I am, and yet I’m not. I have to stop myself some days from being too much like them. The curiosity is always there. I make deals for a living. I’m not excusing it, but you need to realize I’m not simply human with a bonus touch of magic. I am a mortal fairy.”
She leaned back in the chair and looked at him. He was pretty sure he’d just put the iron nail in the coffin of their relationship. He probably shouldn’t have pushed so hard, but it was nice to be honest for a change and he didn’t want to trick her into thinking he was human when he wasn’t—no matter how hard he pretended.
“So what will your children be?”
That wasn’t the question he’d been expecting. But he’d asked Dylis once, not that Natalie had ever suggested they have kids. “Human—with a touch of magic. They won’t be able to see fairies, and they won’t be bound by Annwyn’s laws.”
Lydia nodded as if happy with the answer. She was weighing him as a prospective partner. Already. The idea was far too tempting. He didn’t want to think that far ahead and risk it all falling apart. He desperately wanted to lock his heart away again but it was already too late. He’d offered it to her when he’d started telling her the truth. The kitchen became warm. He could feel the pull between them, thickening with each breath. One of them had to move to break the spell. He needed to. He needed to step away before he fell in too deep.
“Just the attic to go.” He hoped there wasn’t much in there, as he was done for the day. Checking all the mirrors in the morning had left him tired, and while he hoped Shea wouldn’t bring mirrors every morning, he knew it was a wasted wish.
She nodded, but he saw the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Had she expected him to sit and answer every question tonight? He couldn’t be what she expected him to be because he wasn’t and never would be, but at the same time he didn’t want to spend all their time together talking about fairies.
“I know this is all new and exciting to you, but for me fairies have always meant problems.”
“You sound like you are trying to put me off.”
“I’m trying to be honest.”
Lydia ate another piece of nearly cold pizza but her mind was on Caspian. He was staying, again. She pressed her thighs together but the ache in her belly intensified along with the butterflies trapped in her chest where her heart should be. She wanted him; she’d wanted him since the moment he’d appeared on the doorstep. She wanted him regardless of who his parents were or what he was. She glanced at the kitchen doorway.
Should she go after him?
And then what? Was he right that she should be afraid of fairies? The Greys, yes, she could see that. But Caspian? No, he was more human than he thought he was.
She cleaned up dinner and put the diaries away. It was too easy to get caught in the past. What had happened thirty years ago, or fifty years ago, didn’t change who she was. In that respect Caspian was right. It didn’t matter who her grandmother was, it didn’t change the love she had for Gran, or her love of the house. Before she went upstairs, she checked that the doors were locked, then she ventured up into the attic. Caspian had turned on the light but was still holding the flashlight to poke around the dark corners.
“What did you find?”
He flinched as if startled. “Baby clothes and toys. Things she couldn’t get rid of.”
“A bathroom, I think.” Or a bedroom. Was it really that bad? Her heart sank a little at the thought of all the repairs that would need to be done if she kept the house, on top of the fairy garden damage.
“Is there water damage on the ceiling below?”
“I’ll have a look.” She went back down the ladder and checked the ceilings. There were marks on the ceiling that weren’t just age-related. She didn’t want Caspian moving boxes and risking going through the ceiling.
She scampered back up before he could do anything. “I think so. I’ll call the insurance people and see what they say.”
“If it’s poor maintenance, I don’t like your chances.”
Damn. He was probably right. And it would be due to lack of care. “What do I do?”
“Clean the gutters and get a quote for repairs… if you aren’t selling. If you are selling don’t worry about it. The house won’t come down around you in the next few months. It’s probably been like this for years.”
How was she going to pay to get the roof fixed?
She smoothed her hair back from her face. “I can’t make any decision until the valuation is in.”
“I’m working on it. I think all of this stuff is either ruined or of personal significance only.” He walked back over, carefully ducking the beams in the very low roof space.
“So you’re done?”
“Yeah, there’s a few outstanding prices, but I’ll have it back to the company in a few days and they can inform the lawyer.”
Lydia forced a breath out between her teeth. “I may not have any option but to sell.”
“There’re always options. If your grandmother could turn it into a profitable business, I’m sure there’s something you could do.” A frown creased his brow. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” She nodded and smiled. From another man those words would have had entirely the wrong meaning, but not Caspian.
“What’s the split of the estate?”
“My mother gets the cash accounts. I get the house and whatever is left. Without cash I can’t keep the house.”
“It’s mortgage free?”
“Yes. But it needs work. A lot of work. I have my own mortgage and car payments. I can’t afford an empty house.”
