Page 43 of Wicked Deeds

I rubbed my forehead, glad she couldn’t see me. “Great, come on through. I’ll meet you at the front door.” I cut the connection, my jaw clenching. Another complication.

“Madge, can you bring up the file I had started on Gwen Jones?” I’d made notes of everything Aubrey had told me about her since we’d brought her out of the realm. It wasn’t a lot, but I didn’t know what might be helpful. I skimmed it quickly, refreshing my memory.

Gwen’s expression flashed relief when I opened the door, before she went back to cool. I showed her through to thekitchen, biting back the hundred or so questions whirling in my head. No point scaring her off. She dumped the backpack by the counter, sighing out a breath, and parked her suitcase next to it. Then rolled her shoulders, as though happy to have ditched the weight, as she looked around, taking in the kitchen. Which was sunny, light-filled and welcoming, but also screamed expensive if you had an eye for interior design.

“Nice place,” she said.

Nice was an understatement but that might be English politeness or simple exhaustion. “Thanks,” I replied warily. “So, what brings you to town? Aubrey didn’t mention that you were leaving England.”

Her pale blue eyes narrowed. “Aubrey didn’t know.” She paused for a second. “Do you talk to her often?”

“Often enough to know she’ll be worried about you.”

Gwen rolled her shoulders again, the gesture part shrug, part nervous twitch. “The Cestis...well, I’m an adult. I can do what I want.”

Her tone sounded more defiant teen than adult. But I didn’t react. She’d not long turned eighteen when she’d gone into the realm. She wasn’t a normal twenty-two-year-old. Plus she’d had a bad time with Usuriel and maybe even in Morgain’s realm. Gwen had claimed she was happy enough being a servant, but it didn’t ring completely true. Not when she’d made a deal with Usuriel because she’d wanted out.

“Sure. No one’s going to argue about that,” I said. “But I’ll have to let them know you’re here.”

That earned me another shrug that reminded me of Yoshi when he was in one of his rare moods. I could introduce him to Gwen. He could show her how to be a semi-normal young adult. Though his background wasn’t any happier than hers.

Gwen kept stretching. Her clothes were creased, her hair messy and her eyes tired. I always felt like death warmed upafter a long flight, so I could give her the benefit of the doubt and chalk the weird attitude up to exhaustion.

“You look as though you had a long flight.” Gwen’s unknown father had left her money, but I didn’t know if she was comfortably off or wealthy enough not to have to think twice about traveling suborbital versus commercial airlines. Commercial, London to San Francisco was an eleven-hour flight, which was a slog. “Would you like coffee, breakfast, shower? Do you have somewhere to stay?”

She nodded. “I booked a hotel, but coffee and breakfast would be brilliant.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s do that.”

I teased out of her what she might like for breakfast and hunted through options while the coffee machine did its thing. Gwen was mostly silent. I hoped it was jet lag, rather than attitude.

As I slid a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her, along with a coffee, Lianith wandered into the kitchen, presumably drawn by the smell of food. Callum had said she would prefer raw meat, but we’d discovered she loved bacon. She’d even learned the English word for it.

At the sight of her, Gwen froze, fork halfway to her mouth. “That’s a nixling.”

Right. She was tanai. She could see through the illusion. “Yes,” I said, trying to sound soothing. “It’s all right. She’s friendly.”

She put her fork down, looking more alarmed than surprised. “Why do you have a nixling?”

“That’s a long story,” I replied. “Eat your breakfast.”

She stared down at the bacon and eggs and, to my horror, her lip quivered, as though she was about to cry.

Had she had a bad experience with nixlings? “What’s wrong?” I asked, making a little shooing motion at Lianith. Thenixling twitched her tail, turned, and stalked back out of the room. A vague“humph”hit my mind.

“I came to San Francisco because I wanted to get away from the Fae. And I knew you lived here, so I’d know someone at least, and that there are tanai here who didn’t leave when the Fae left, who got free…” Her breath hitched.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, yes, that’s true. Some tanai didn’t follow their Fae relatives when the door closed. But you know the door here is open again.”

She swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

Great. I really didn’t want her to start crying.

“But it’s not free traffic in and out of the realm here yet. Not the way it is in London.” I didn’t tell her that was because there’d already been trouble with the door. Unlikely to be reassuring. “But the nixling won’t bother you if I ask her not to.” At least, I hoped not. Lianith had definite opinions about what human things were orders she would follow versus suggestions she could ignore.

Gwen said nothing.

“Drink some coffee,” I said, “or eat. You’ll feel better. I know someone—a tanai—who’s from one of the lines that stayed. Her family doesn’t have much to do with the Fae. I can ask if she’ll talk to you.” I cocked my head. “She can tell you about how their families work. But you don’t know who your mother was, do you? So is it her you’re trying to avoid, or something else?”

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