Ani wished she could tell Rabbit everything, but the more she’d thought, the more she realized that this was too serious. She’d come running home, potentially endangering them. Leaving for a while was the best bet. Especially now that I have the means to go. Fleetingly, Ani wondered if that was part of why the steed had come to her. She needed to get away to where her presence wouldn’t endanger her family.

“I love you.” Ani hugged her sister. “More than anyone or anything. You know that?”

“You too.” Tish frowned. “So… what did you do now?”

“Nothing yet.” Ani flicked the stereo on, and the speakers immediately thumped to life. The bass was heavy, and the weight of it pushed on her skin.

Home.

She knew that Rabbit realized that the music was to keep him from hearing their words. Her brother might not be as much of a Hound as she was, but he had exceptionally keen hearing. She seemed to have gotten almost all of their father’s traits. Rabbit had some—longevity, strength, hearing—and Tish… Tish had “Hound-light” qualities. That’s what they’d called it growing up: a little stronger, a little faster, a little bit too interested in trouble.

They sat down on Tish’s bed. Ani’s bed was still there, unmade from the last visit, and looking like the haven she needed. She couldn’t stay though, not here, not where her mostly mortal sister was.

“What’s going on?” Tish crossed her legs and waited.

“I’m in a sort of situation,” Ani started.

As quickly as she could, she explained everything about Bananach. Then she said, “Tell them. Tell Rab and Iri everything.”

“Ani?” Tish reached for her hand, but Ani was on her feet and backing up.

“I can’t stay.” Ani turned up the stereo. “If she comes after me—”

“No. You can’t go,” Tish whispered. “If she’s watching for you… Come on, Ani. Just do that focus thing. That helps.”

Ani glanced at the closed door. “If she comes, she’ll hurt you and Rabbit. I shouldn’t have come here. I need to go away from everyone before she does. It’s safer and—”

“Iri knows now. He’ll fix it. We can all go live with him.” Tish stood and took Ani’s hands and held on to her like she had when they were little and Ani was freaking out. “Come on. Just stay here.”

“I can’t, Tish. You stay with Iri, okay? Stay with Rabbit. Stay with Gabr—Dad.” Ani felt like something prickly was swarming inside her skin. She needed to run. The thought of staying, of not getting away, made her feel like she was choking. Irial would keep Tish and Rabbit beside him; they’d be safer without her around. She couldn’t stay trapped in the house or put them in danger.

“I need to get out for a while,” she said.

“And go where?” Tish still held on to one of Ani’s hands.

“I don’t know yet.” Ani pulled free of her sister’s hold and opened their closet. Grabbing a duffle, she started shoving a few clothes into it.

Silently, Tish helped, giving permission by her actions if not by her words. Tish held out a brush. Tears were in her eyes. “Be careful, NiNi.”

Ani hugged her, barely resisting tears at the sound of the pet name. “I’ll call.”

“Rab has your phone.” Tish reached into her pocket and pulled out her glaringly pink phone. “Take it. I’ll get yours when he’s done talking to Iri.”

Silently, Ani slipped Tish’s phone into her front pocket. They’d switched often enough that they kept each other’s contacts in both phones. “What about Glenn? I don’t have his number in my phone.”

Tish grinned. “I guess I need to go to the club then.”

“No!” Ani shuddered at the thought of her sister out alone. She pulled the phone out and flipped through the contacts. “Copy it down. He can meet you at the shop. No going anywhere alone unless Iri clears it. Okay?”

Tish wrote down the number on her hand and then she slid open the top drawer of the nightstand between their beds. Nestled under the various bras and stockings was a sgian dubh that matched the one already on Ani’s ankle.

Tish held out the black-handled knife and a black leg holster. “Take my lucky one.”

“Are you sure?” Ani patted her other leg. “I already have the prickler.”

“Take mine too. A girl can never be too careful… or too armed,” Tish quipped.

“True.” Ani lifted her pants leg and fastened the holster. She might be Dark Court enough to like carrying a traditional blade, but she wasn’t a fan of shoving it into her stocking or boot. Tradition was important, but adapting was good too.

Ani slid the knife into the holster.

Tish opened the closet. “Holy irons?”

When they were in elementary school, Irial had taken them on a series of field trips to different houses of worship. At each place, a man or woman said prayer words over a handful of blades. By the end, the girls had a box of sharp things blessed by representatives of a number of the dominant mortal faiths. Like many of the gifts Irial had given them, the “holy irons” were practical presents. One never knows, Irial had said, and we aren’t the only things that go bump in the night. Ani hated carrying the blessed steel because it was a deterrent to many faeries she’d like to get closer to, but she wasn’t going to take chances. Not now.