Glass cracked and for a second he smelled heady floral perfume like a garden in full bloom. Then it was gone and so was the music that had taunted him. Caspian swallowed down the sudden sense of loss. With his next breath he knew the threat was gone and he was free of the desire to see the Court once more.
He peeled back the wrapping to examine the damage. He’d devalued an antique as well as broke the enchantment. The old glass cut his reflection into pointed shards. Pale green fairy eyes looked back. But at least they were his own eyes.
But what about the mirror Shea wanted? Would he have the strength to shatter that one when the time came? And even if he did, what would be the price?
Chapter 5
Caspian pulled into the long drive of Callaway House at dusk. In the fading light, the dark house almost looked forbidding. Yet he was eager to get inside. Eager to see Lydia.
He locked the car and knocked on the door, a faint echo of laughter lingering beneath his fingers. He couldn’t help himself from looking over his shoulder. Were there any banished fairies living in the graveyard down the road, or following him? How far did Shea’s power reach?
He shivered. People who couldn’t see fairies didn’t know how easy they had it.
The door opened and Lydia stood limned by light. Dressed simply in skinny jeans that showed off her long legs, ballet flats, and a shirt that hung down to her hips, she looked like she was dressed for a casual evening in. The jolt of raw attraction caught him off guard. He’d been expecting corporate Lydia. Not sexy-stay-at-home Lydia.
Caspian blinked to break the spell she’d cast. This wasn’t her house, nothing he’d touched had indicated she lived here, and it sure as hell wasn’t a date. Would it be wrong to ask her out for dinner? He should’ve grabbed something on the way over, but he was already late.
She smiled and stood to the side to let him in. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“I, er, lost my keys.” Caspian stood on the step, unwilling to push past in case he touched her and slid into the enchantment she didn’t know she was casting. Bewitching. Lydia wasn’t fairy; her power was far more potent.
She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t seem like the disorganized type.”
“I’m not usually.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “And I thought you were immune to Callaway House.” Her lips curved in a small smile that made his chest constrict.
Caspian glanced down for a second and tried to find something to say. He didn’t want her thinking he was flustered by the house’s history; that would be worse than letting her think she affected him. He met her dark gaze. Chocolate brown, a color no fairy would have, yet no less mesmerizing. “It’s not the house.”
That was probably the wrong thing to say. He’d never been good at these things. Even Natalie had thought him eccentric, something she’d found endearing at first.
Her eyes widened for a second so fast he could’ve imagined it. “Come in.”
He followed her into the hallway and was once again surrounded by the weight of history. This house had lived even before it had stopped being a family home. The Callaway name had once been respected. Rumors of gambling debts followed by the gradual fall from grace had tainted the name. He spent some time earlier doing a bit more basic research. Sometimes using the computer was easier than sifting through years of history—plus he didn’t always get the full story by touch.
She closed the door, giving him a view of her butt. At least when she was in a suit and being cool or upset he could ignore the attraction that kept rising up. Now he could almost taste it in the air. If he’d met her anywhere else… he’d have done nothing because he’d have been too afraid to start anything because he knew where it would end up. He couldn’t handle that again.
Lydia was studying him as if searching for something. If she looked too closely, would she realize that he wasn’t quite human? And if she did, that flicker of desire would die.
“Someone released the details of Gran’s death to the media.” Her gaze never left him, and he knew this was a test. She suspected him.
“I heard the news. I understand why you’d want to keep it quiet.” Again he was grateful that his life and troubles had all remained very private.
She nodded. “It wasn’t you.”
“No. I don’t divulge details; it’s not good for business.” Neither was standing around chatting. If he hadn’t been here for work, he’d have gladly spent hours talking to Lydia about anything and everything. It had been a long time since he’d felt at ease around someone—not enough to be himself and tell all, but enough to relax a little and enjoy her company. If he let himself slide down that path he could almost picture himself sharing the details about his life that he’d never told anyone. He’d vowed to be honest next time. To not get into a relationship without at least mentioning the psychometry… it was best for everyone that he never mentioned fairies.
She smoothed her hands over her thighs in a move that drew his gaze for longer than it should have. “You’re all about business?”
“I run my own, it’s only me, so yeah, it takes up a lot of time. But I like it. It’s interesting to find out when a piece was made and working out what it’s worth.” His work had stopped him from drifting after Natalie. He’d thrown himself into it, partly out of necessity as he’d needed to eat and get another house, and partly because it was familiar and something he could control.
Now was the moment to explain how he worked and to see how she’s react, before he let himself get too caught up in the idea of asking her out or thinking she’d accept. He looked at her and the way her lips curved, inviting and tempting, and the words that he should say failed to form. Asking her to believe in psychometry was as bad as asking her to believe he was a changeling prince.
“Every day something new to explore?”
He’d never thought of it that way. “Yeah… except for the paperwork.”
She laughed, and warmth filled her eyes as if she was seeing him in a new light. “I think Gran would’ve liked you.”
The tension in his shoulders eased and he smiled. He’d passed whatever test she’d set, even as he failed his own. The longer he went without telling her of his gift, the harder it would become to reveal. “Thank you.”
He meant it; it felt like he was one step closer to Lydia seeing him as something other than the vulture valuing her grandmother’s things. Small steps; after all, they weren’t even dating. Maybe family secrets could wait until after the job was finished. Except in his heart he knew that would be too late. She would look back at this time and know he’d kept things from her. Would she even want to know the things he saw? He didn’t half the time.
Lydia put her hand on his arm. “She might have even let you into a party.” She sighed. “It’s nice to talk about her without the slurs that usually follow.”
“It’s nice to hear more about her, the real woman, not the spin.” Her hand was warm against him, the heat seeping through his shirt. The simple touch was a reminder of the human contact he’d shunned. A shimmer of desire slid over his skin. It would be very easy to fall and not think about the landing. Too easy. And he knew how destructive and devastating the impact could be.
For a moment she just looked at him as if not sure what to make of him. Her eyes darkened, inviting trouble. Then she grinned. “You’re something different, Caspian.”
Yes he was, and it was a good thing she didn’t know how different.
Felan leaned against a tree in the cemetery. Above him the branches swept toward the sky, muttering softly. But he wasn’t here for the whisperings of trees, or to enjoy the mortal world; he was waiting for someone.
The shrubs to his left gave a rustle and then a small fairy in dull clothing appeared, the exiled fairy he’d
