Couldn’t he have clued her in on her tainted heritage earlier? She could’ve run away and saved her family or committed suicide and saved herself. No. He’d waited until Hell had reigned in her backyard before confirming what her mom had told her all along—she was a monster.
And someday she’d surround herself with redcaps and their army of the walking dead, the sluaghs, killing innocents like the night her family was slaughtered. Or maybe she’d accept a crown and rule over all as the Queen of the Unseelie Court. She could have everything—the world at her fingertips.
Just like the angels in her dreams promised.
No. She shook her head. Coming here was a mistake. She only had in an effort to find some sort of closure. Harley wanted to sit in front of her mom’s portrait and tell her she’d done her best to remain Seelie before she actually lost the battle for her soul and broke her promise.
Harley didn’t need to stay in the house to do that. She could say her piece, then leave. And the promise of returning to her ghost man? Well, she was here, so that settled the score.
Her thoughts eased the churning in her gut. She turned to tell the cabbie to wait for her, but the cab peeled away, kicking dust in her face, before she could get a word out. She choked on the gritty air and faced the vacant mansion that stood as a tribute to her fallen family members. Neither she nor Ian, who’d escaped death since he’d been away at college that night, had been able to bring themselves to sell it.
“Guess I’m staying.”
She made her way to the entrance and slipped the key into the lock. The click resounded in her ears, and a screech accompanied her push of the heavy oak door. Dust and stale air whooshed around her. She blinked rapidly to clear her blurry vision and swept her gaze over the entryway. Empty. She let her nonhuman senses flare. Only the sounds of scurrying mice reached her ears. A sigh of relief escaped. She shuffled inside and headed toward the living room.
The chiming of the grandfather clock stopped her. Noon. The memories she’d hoped to keep buried rushed back with the clang, ding, clang of the pendulum.
A slideshow of monsters and death flashed through her mind. The screams of her family mixed with the roars and grunts of the sluaghs who’d killed them.
Harley tugged at her hair, dislodging her cap. “No, dammit, no!”
“You’re alive.”
She froze. The low, gravelly voice of her ghost man caressed her as tangibly as it had all those years ago. She dropped her hands. Hovering inches away were the eyes she’d seen in her dreams every night since.
“Oh God.” She scrambled back and tripped over her bag, landing on her ass.
“Be calm. You’re safe.”
Peace settled over her as if he’d taken her anxiety away with those words. Still, she inched away from his disembodied eyes. Caution had kept her alive in the face of a lifetime of evil. It didn’t matter if she’d felt as if she’d known him for ages. She’d learned years ago, nothing was as it seemed. Those with the ability to use glamour, the fairies’ magic, could create illusions out of thin air.
She settled on bent legs and studied the apparition for a clue as to whether he was a figment of her imagination or not. The oval surrounding the spectral display showed tan skin, ridiculously long lashes and dark eyebrows. Her pulse kicked up. Excitement, desire, fear—she wasn’t sure what caused it. She only knew she couldn’t look away.
“You.” She swallowed hard. She still couldn’t believe her eyes. Couldn’t deny the sight either. “It’s you.”
“Yes. It is.”
A long moment passed where they held each other’s gazes. So many times, she’d fantasized about what she would say or do if she ever reconnected with him. None of the scenarios fit the pregnant silence stretching between them. She let those silly fantasies slip through her fingers and asked the first question that came to her mind.
“What’s your name?” It had always bothered her not having one.
“I am Calan. Yours?”
Calan. She let his name settle over her heart. “Mine’s Harley.”
“Harley.” Her name spoken in his deep voice sounded sexy, something she never thought her unusual name could be.
Finally, he released a shaky breath she felt skim over her cheek. She pressed her palm to the sensitive skin to hold the warmth close.
“You never returned to me, Harley.”
Raul’s words that night had confused and scared her. She hadn’t known what to believe. Or who.
“I ran just like you told me to.”
“I also told you to come back.”
She’d tried. Raul had followed her. Attacked her. She glanced at her hands that had once been covered in blood. Raul’s blood. She lowered her gaze and prayed Calan didn’t see the elation in her eyes the memory brought. It had felt good to hurt Raul. That had scared her most of all, and it was the reason she’d stayed away.
“Yes.” Harley turned her head, unable to look into Calan’s eyes. “You did.”
“Why didn’t you return to me? You promised.”
“And you promised to save me. Why didn’t you? You left me.” She was being childish. She knew it but couldn’t help it. Watching bubbles form in Raul’s blood while he struggled to breathe had been one of the darkest yet most exciting moments of her life. Temptation had held her in its grip, and she’d fought it alone.
“I saved you the only way I could.” The featherlight stroke of Calan’s fingertips along her cheek wiped away the memory of her encounter with Raul, but not the shame she’d experienced over enjoying Raul’s suffering. “Do you not remember the knowledge I shared with you?”
She remembered. Calan had forced information
