But he shook his head. “No. Alby is a powerful magical practitioner in his own right. Many Fae can fold local space to move short distances. The ley lines are for global travel.”
I started to glimpse where he was going with this. “Meaning Fae were traveling along the line on that map we just saw, and this was happening around the time Dad disappeared. You think it’s connected?”
“I had a theory,” Rans said. “One that Derrick’s data supports. The Fae tend not to travel back and forth from wherever they’re stationed on Earth very often. There’s no way to prove it conclusively, but the timing makes it likely they were transporting a high-level prisoner... or a high-level collaborator.”
My throat went dry. “Transporting him where?” I rasped.
“To the Fae world of Dhuinne. The ley line you saw on the map leads directly across the Atlantic Ocean to County Meath in Ireland. And the weak spot between the two realms—the gate used to move between the worlds—is inside a burial mound on the Hill of Tara.”
My brain didn’t seem to want to work at the moment, but I forced myself to follow the logical steps he was laying out anyway. “Are you saying that my dad isn’t on Earth anymore?” Even speaking the words aloud made me feel cold, despite the summer heat reflecting off the concrete.
His eyes cut to me, assessing my reaction. “I’m saying it’s a possibility.”
Jesus. If he was right, what was I supposed to do now? I swallowed hard.
“We should go visit the westernmost place where Derrick’s equipment picked up high readings,” I said, thinking it through as rationally as I could. “If they were traveling west to east, that should be the point they left from, shouldn’t it? Maybe we can find more clues there.”
Rans was still watching me. “You really want to traipse up to a Fae-controlled site and start asking questions, Zorah? Because if I’m right, Caspian’s mates would be pleased as punch to whisk you away to join your father—and not for a touching family reunion.”
The panicked feeling I’d been holding at bay for the last day or so was clamoring in my stomach, threatening to break loose and consume me. I was already a fugitive. Even with Rans protecting me for reasons I still couldn’t claim to understand, realistically, how long was I going to be able to avoid the Fae? I couldn’t just attach myself to Rans like a leech for the rest of my natural life, in hopes that he would continue to beat off my pursuers with a stick... or a sword.
“What, then?” I asked, hearing desperation seep into my voice.
I hadn’t been joking, back at my dad’s place. Right now, finding him was the only thing driving me forward. Even if I failed—even if my attempt resulted in my capture rather than his rescue—I still had to try. If I let my only remaining family member languish in my enemy’s hands while I hid myself away like a terrified mouse in a hole, what kind of daughter did that make me? What kind of person did that make me?
“I thought we’d pass this new information to Alby and see what he can make of it,” Rans said, looking at me as though he was weighing the likelihood of me losing my shit right here on the street. “He’s better positioned than either of us to learn something useful, although I can always do a bit of quiet aerial reconnaissance on the place at night, if need be.”
Right. Because my vampire lover could turn into mist and fly. Fuck. What had my life become?
“Do you really think we can trust him?” I asked, not much liking this plan. “Albigard, I mean?”
He paused, looking thoughtful. “There are... reasons why Albigard wants to stay on top of what’s going on within the Unseelie Court. Those reasons are self-serving—but, these days, they’re also in conflict with what most of the rest of his race wants. That makes him an ally in some respects, if not necessarily others.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend?” I asked sourly.
“Until he isn’t. Quite so.”
“I really don’t like this,” I told him.
“I’d gathered,” he said.
We’d covered maybe half the distance back to the car and were passing a small encampment of homeless people. They’d set up on the boundary of the rather derelict area where the Weekly Oracle kept their cheap basement offices and a busier area with open storefronts and foot traffic.
Rans glanced at the makeshift tents, and then at a fast food restaurant down the block. “Time for lunch, I think.”
I glanced at the angle of the sun, thinking that it seemed awfully early. “More like brunch, I’d have thought.”
“Brunch, then.” He was rummaging in a pocket. A moment later, he came up with a couple of folded bills. With a jolt, I realized they were hundreds.
“I’m... not really all that hungry yet,” I told him, eyeing the cash.
“As you like,” he said. “I am, though. Someone seems to have sucked me dry last night, and I haven’t had a chance to refill yet.” He lifted my hand and pressed the money into it. “Do me a favor and get enough food for—” He broke off, glancing over the homeless encampment again. “—roughly a dozen people. Then bring it back here. Consider it your good deed for the day.”
I opened my mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Are you about to drink blood from homeless people?”
“Yes, I am about to drink blood from homeless people, after which I will provide them with some spending money, along with a free meal for them and the rest of their compatriots.” He raised a challenging eyebrow. “Does that offend you?”
I stood there for a minute, holding the breath I’d drawn to speak. “No,” I decided. “Not so long as you don’t drain them as badly as you drained me that first afternoon in St. Louis. Because...
