Page 96 of Close Quarter
Some let the passion for control and power consume them."
A deep frown and clenched fists were Rhys's only answer.
"If I were a half-fae who fathered a quarter, I'd hide," Silas said. "For both that child's sake and for my own."
A change in the wind whipped Rhys's hair, setting the copper highlights ablaze in the afternoon sun. Element seeped around them, twisted up Silas's legs like a caress. He doubted Rhys even knew what he was doing, so focused was he on the thoughts in his head.
Finally he spoke. "If we could find him, would you protect him? From the courts?"
The question sent a prickling up the back of Silas's neck. He'd had plenty of offers to join various fae courts. Refused them all. "I don't know if I could."
Rhys's lips formed a very thin and pale line.
"It's not a lack of desire, Rhys. I have power, yes. I'm old, yes. But the courts leave me alone because I'm of little concern to them."
The muscles near Rhys's right eye twitched.
"That'll change, won't it? When we reach New York?"
"Yes." Silas folded his hands in his lap. It kept him from gripping the edge of the table. "I'm not without resources, and I do have a few favors I can call on."
"But if we find my father?"
"There are not enough strings in this world to pull to keep the courts from hounding us."
The deep thrum of the ship's motor changed pitch for a moment. Rhys exhaled. "That doesn't exactly sound like a fun life to live."
"No." Silas reached across the table, palm up. Rhys covered Silas's hand with his own.
Warm, a slight tingle of element. "But if you wish it, I'll do all within my power to keep you and yours safe."
"But you said--"
"I said I didn't know if I could. I never said I would not try."
Astonishment filled Rhys's expression in the same manner that a sharp clap of thunder might shock someone. His mouth worked, but no words came forth.
Silas couldn't help but smile. That earned him a bruised shin of his own.
"Bastard." The word was wrapped in affection.
If only they could stay like this for the rest of the cruise. If only.
Damn the Messengers. Or bless them.
Looking at Rhys, Silas couldn't decide which.
His sudden change in mood must have been noticeable. Rhys squeezed his hand. "Do you have a plan? For tonight?"
No. He had nothing. "We've lost the element of surprise. Our trick from last night won't work again." It would have never worked on Anaxandros, anyway. He must have been-- He.
"Juno's tits."
Another squeeze. "We'll work something out."
Silas stifled the urge to sigh. "I suppose the only thing to do is to hunt. We wait until dark, find them, and kill them."
Rhys snorted. "Easy as ice cream."
