Shona Husk - The Outcast Prince

“I saw no reason to reveal myself,” Dylis said. “You obeyed the rules. If you’d done something stupidly human, I’d have stepped in.”

He considered the beautiful and annoying fairy and how little he knew about her. How little she told. “Shea knows you, that’s why you hid.” It was a bold assumption, but maybe she’d reveal something

“Everyone at Court knows everyone worth knowing.”

Getting a straight answer from her was going to be like pulling out his own teeth. But she obviously had some standing when she was at Court. What a comedown it must be to spend time with him. “What do you know about the Window?”

It certainly wasn’t the one he’d bought, but had that been bait laid out by Shea? A chance to watch and see what he was capable of? If it had been, he’d fallen for it.

He watched Dylis carefully; she’d been the one to alert him to the Window’s existence, and the probability that it was in Charleston. She could be on Shea’s side. And Shea’s side wasn’t the King’s side. And while he may not be fairy, he knew which side he was on and it wasn’t with a fairy banished for sleeping with another man’s wife.

“Nothing more than I’ve already told you.” That sounded like the truth. “I’ll have to ask some careful questions. The Queen will have supporters and spies. And I’ll need to let your father know Shea is actively looking for it.”

“You do that.” The words were harsher than he intended. He sighed. If Annwyn was in trouble, Dylis was right—whatever side she was on she was in danger. “Take care at Court.”

“I always do.” She stood and gave a half-bow. And then she was gone.

As a precaution Caspian took the enchanted mirror to work with him. He didn’t want it in his house attracting anymore Greys. While it had seemed like a good idea at the time, after spending several hours in its company all he wanted to do was throw back its covering and gaze at the Court. He found things to do to keep himself busy and distracted. He prepped the till even though most people paid with credit. Gave everything a dust. Just because the furniture was old didn’t mean it had to look like it came straight out of a museum. People had to be able to picture the Victorian armchair in their house and the art deco vase on their sideboard.

He paused at the china. He desperately needed a new tea set to woo back the Brownies. While he had some beautiful pieces in the shop, he had no children’s sets. He’d have to stop by a toy store and hope for a china set. If he didn’t get something today they wouldn’t be happy and might disappear altogether—if they hadn’t already.

The music of the Court filtered through his shop at the edge of his hearing. He couldn’t sell the mirror as it was, it was too dangerous for anyone with a touch of fairy blood, and he couldn’t keep it for the same reason. He should have known the bargain was too good to be true.

With careful footsteps, Caspian made sure he didn’t follow the beat, no matter how tempting. That would be the first step in falling into the lure of the Court. He pulled a screwdriver out from under the counter and walked out the back. The mirror lay on the workbench still wrapped from being transported to the shop.

His fingers tightened around the plastic screwdriver handle even as he wanted to pull back the wrapping with his free hand and peek into Annwyn again. Before he could do something stupid, he slammed the screwdriver into the center of the mirror.

Glass cracked and for a second he smelled heady floral perfume like a garden in full bloom. Then it was gone and so was the music that had taunted him. Caspian swallowed down the sudden sense of loss. With his next breath he knew the threat was gone and he was free of the desire to see the Court once more.

He peeled back the wrapping to examine the damage. He’d devalued an antique as well as broke the enchantment. The old glass cut his reflection into pointed shards. Pale green fairy eyes looked back. But at least they were his own eyes.

But what about the mirror Shea wanted? Would he have the strength to shatter that one when the time came? And even if he did, what would be the price?

Caspian pulled into the long drive of Callaway House at dusk. In the fading light, the dark house almost looked forbidding. Yet he was eager to get inside. Eager to see Lydia.

He locked the car and knocked on the door, a faint echo of laughter lingering beneath his fingers. He couldn’t help himself from looking over his shoulder. Were there any banished fairies living in the graveyard down the road, or following him? How far did Shea’s power reach?

He shivered. People who couldn’t see fairies didn’t know how easy they had it.

The door opened and Lydia stood limned by light. Dressed simply in skinny jeans that showed off her long legs, ballet flats, and a shirt that hung down to her hips, she looked like she was dressed for a casual evening in. The jolt of raw attraction caught him off guard. He’d been expecting corporate Lydia. Not sexy-stay-at-home Lydia.

Caspian blinked to break the spell she’d cast. This wasn’t her house, nothing he’d touched had indicated she lived here, and it sure as hell wasn’t a date. Would it be wrong to ask her out for dinner? He should’ve grabbed something on the way over, but he was already late.

She smiled and stood to the side to let him in. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“I, er, lost my keys.” Caspian stood on the step, unwilling to push past in case he touched her and slid into the enchantment she didn’t know she was casting. Bewitching. Lydia wasn’t fairy; her power was far more potent.

She raised her eyebrows. “You don’t seem like the disorganized type.”

“I’m not usually.” Get a grip. She’s not interested in you. But she held his gaze for a moment too long for him to believe the lie he was telling himself.

“Ah.” She nodded. “And I thought you were immune to Callaway House.” Her lips curved in a small smile that made his chest constrict.

Caspian glanced down for a second and tried to find something to say. He didn’t want her thinking he was flustered by the house’s history; that would be worse than letting her think she affected him. He met her dark gaze. Chocolate brown, a color no fairy would have, yet no less mesmerizing. “It’s not the house.”

That was probably the wrong thing to say. He’d never been good at these things. Even Natalie had thought him eccentric, something she’d found endearing at first.

Her eyes widened for a second so fast he could’ve imagined it. “Come in.”

He followed her into the hallway and was once again surrounded by the weight of history. This house had lived even before it had stopped being a family home. The Callaway name had once been respected. Rumors of gambling debts followed by the gradual fall from grace had tainted the name. He spent some time earlier doing a bit more basic research. Sometimes using the computer was easier than sifting through years of history—plus he didn’t always get the full story by touch.

She closed the door, giving him a view of her butt. At least when she was in a suit and being cool or upset he could ignore the attraction that kept rising up. Now he could almost taste it in the air. If he’d met her anywhere else… he’d have done nothing because he’d have been too afraid to start anything because he knew where it would end up. He couldn’t handle that again.

Keep it professional. “So, where did you want me to start?”

Lydia was studying him as if searching for something. If she looked too closely, would she realize that he wasn’t quite human? And if she did, that flicker of desire would die.