The Outcast Prince

“What are they going to do? Arrest them?” Bramwel snorted.

“Unless you have a spare sword, it’s the best I’ve got.” The cops arriving would at least scare them off. Caspian was willing to bet Shea was behind this attack, and the imp hadn’t said boo—that’s what he got for relying on banished fairies.

“Can you even use a sword, banished changeling?”

“I did fencing.” Much to his human father’s horror and Dylis’s delight. He’d also been on the track and field team to balance the scales.

“Not the same. Go and ring your cops.”

Yeah, and at least if there was damage it would be covered by insurance. He turned around and heard the stampede of troll feet. When he glanced back Bramwel had already killed one. The rest were staying out of reach. They were just here to destroy.

He snatched up the phone and rang emergency. As he did, the imp jumped onto his chair. He panted, one hand over his tiny heart. While Caspian spoke to the operator, and listened to the crashing out front, he kept one eye on the imp who was doing a strange pantomime that involved choking and a zombie walk. He’d never been good at charades.

As he gave the details to emergency, no one was hurt, just a burglary in progress, his phone beeped from a missed call and message.

Finally the imp gave up on the dance routine and punched some words out on the laptop in the middle of his document.

Shea is with a woman.

Caspian blinked and hoped he’d read that wrong. He hadn’t. Lydia. Shea was with Lydia.

There was a very human cry of pain. The operator was warning him not to be a hero and that the police would arrive shortly. He hung up. Bramwel’s arm was bent in the wrong place. But he was still fighting. Furniture was overturned. He wanted to join the fray just to hurt something, but that wouldn’t help Lydia. This was a distraction, or a warning, or maybe a parting shot. It didn’t matter. He had to get to Lydia.

“I have to leave.”

Bramwel threw piece of broken chair at a troll who danced and laughed, which sounded more like the crunching of gravel than anything joyous. “Go, you’re no use to me here.” He jumped back to avoid the swinging of the other piece of chair as it swept toward his shins. “Finish him, finish this. Don’t let the bloodshed be for nothing.” The words were gritted out.

The imp scuttled past, tripping a troll as he went. At least Bramwel had help until the cops arrived. That didn’t stop Caspian from feeling like a coward for walking away from the fight. He checked the missed call; it was from Lydia. But he didn’t need to hear the message to know what was happening. Shea was at Callaway House, waiting for him.

Caspian picked up his car keys, hoping he didn’t have to choose between Lydia and handing over the Window. He couldn’t. If he lost the Window he was as good as dead. And if he lost Lydia, he might as well be dead.

Chapter 21

Lydia kept hold of the phone, her back to the counter. Beside her the tap ran on. Shea got up and paced, but he held his distance. She expected him to lunge for her at any moment, but the running water seemed to keep him at bay. In her bra she could feel the iron nail pressing into her skin. Dylis had been quite specific about what would work. Compared to the hat stand it seemed so small and yet when she looked at Shea she saw the damage iron could do. She knew exactly how to use the nail. Would she be able to get it out in time?

Shea stopped and stared at her, his eyes cold and dead. “Make me tea.”

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from saying anything. She wasn’t doing anything that he asked. Obeying a Grey was dangerous.

“You think you can stop me? You’re nothing. A soul to steal, bait, or bribe. Your lover is already in trouble. Lost his soul for dealing to me.”

Years of practice was all that kept her from looking shocked. No soul, how was that possible? But she remembered the way he’d acted when he’d first come back, the way he’d stopped when he’d found the nail in her bra and the hesitation to shower, the look in his eye and the way he’d avoided talking while still trying to hold onto her. If he had no soul, what did that make him?

The answer was right in front of her. She swallowed. Caspian was a Grey.

Shea paced closer, his gaze flicking between her and the water. Dylis had said afraid of water, not that it would hurt a fairy. She needed the iron nail in her hand. But she couldn’t get it out while he watched.

“Used you to get to the Window.” Shea grinned. “Your little friend who lived here followed you home, saw you holding a mirror.” He rested one hand on the back of a chair. He was far too close for comfort now. “I’m willing to gamble it’s the Window—and so was your friend.”

The compact in her handbag. Don’t look at your handbag. Keep looking at Shea. I’m going to have nightmares. “That old thing? That’s just my grandmother’s makeup mirror.”

How long had Caspian known? The whole time he’d been here? Or just since he’d come back with the mirror around his neck?

“Where is it?”

“At home, with the rest of the things I took from here.” Her heart was bouncing around and making breathing hard. Could he tell she was lying?

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t you want to save your lover?”

“Yes.” But if Caspian had lost his soul in Annwyn then it made sense that the only way to get it back would be to give the mirror to his father, not Shea.

“Then give it to me.”

“It’s at home,” she said really slowly. “Want to take a drive?” She didn’t want to be in a car with him, but if it kept him away from her handbag for a little longer she’d do it.

“You agree to fetch me the Window?”

She opened her mouth then realized that he was trying to get her talking to trip her into a deal. She shut her mouth and bit her tongue for good measure. Why hadn’t Caspian told her all of this?

Because she’d have freaked out because he was a Grey. She’d slept with him while he was missing a soul. Her thoughts swirled around like papers in a breeze. Take a breath and think.

He was still Caspian, and he still needed the Window. That she had it made things simpler. Except Shea knew she had it too. He took a step closer. She flicked some water at him. This time he winced but didn’t step back.

Shit. She’d seen Caspian shower last night, so maybe a fairy’s fear of water wasn’t that great unless it was a river or an ocean.

“I wonder what he’d do to save you.” He tilted his head and flexed his fingers.

Her phone beeped as a message arrived, but she was almost too scared take her eyes off Shea and look. How far could she run? How many invisible fairies were in the house waiting to grab her or trip her up?

The front door opened and Shea turned. She used that moment to slide the nail out of her bra and into her hand.

Caspian appeared in the doorway. His lips tightened, but that was the only sign of distress. Was he even worried about her or just the damn Window?

“You broke the deal. Your thugs attacked my shop. You came here and invaded her house.” Caspian looked at Shea.

“You broke it first. Have you bothered to check a single mirror I left at your house? No, you were too busy at Court meeting your father and losing your soul. I propose a trade. I keep your lover until you get me the Window.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“We make a new one, banished to banished. We can both get what we want.” Shea took a couple of steps