Page 16 of Close Quarter
"No. I was sent. And I have business to attend to tonight."
"And it can't wait until tomorrow."
"No."
Questions obviously warred within Rhys. His brow furrowed. Then Rhys's expression snapped into determination. "Tell me why you're here."
The man was learning. Command rather than question. Harder to dodge. "It would be better if you didn't know."
"Either you don't trust me, or you're dealing with something really dangerous. I don't like either option."
"I trust you."
"Oh great. Danger."
Silas chuckled. "Yes. But I'm very good at what I do." He drew back from Rhys. Took his hand and kissed it. "Come. I do have some time yet."
Rhys tugged him forward. "I'll lead."
Now that was intriguing. Silas let Rhys set the pace and direction, a flicker of delight growing inside him. So often he was the actor. This--this was different. But not unpleasant at all.
They took the elevator down two decks and walked the length of the ocean liner. "I read about this place when I booked the cruise," Rhys said.
Wisps of energy--of Silas's element-- flowed down the hall and wrapped themselves into...
Rhys. Not him, but Rhys. Sweet Diana.
Humans didn't do that.
Up ahead, beyond double glass doors, a wall of green. Plants.
"It's a mini botanical garden. Orchids. Ferns.
Tropicals." Rhys led them through the doors.
"And, of course, the requisite bar at the other end."
Greenery everywhere. Tall palms, the scent of citrus. Glass all around, letting in the reds and oranges of the fading sunlight.
Life surrounded Silas, slid through and into him. He took three steps down the path and touched a fern. "I should have known this was here. Should have felt it."
"Well, we are on a big metal boat," Rhys said. He paused. "Isn't iron supposed to poison you?"
"No. That's a misconception. Iron doesn't hurt us." Silas turned. "It--" Words died in his mouth.
Rhys glowed. Long strands of energy licked from the trees and the ferns and every other plant.
The energy twined and plunged into Rhys's body.
"Silas, what's wrong?"
This time he couldn't find words in any language to speak. Finally one thought surfaced.
Quarter.
Quarter-fae were not supposed to exist. A myth. Ancient legends that spanned back millennia, longer than humans had recorded history. The impossible explanation Silas kept avoiding. Yet here Rhys was, draped in verdant power.
"Silas?" Rhys took him by the elbow and dragged him down a side path to a bench and sat next to him. "I didn't hurt you, bringing you here?"
