Devlin turned his attention to Ani. Like Rae, she was unafraid of him. Even his queen found him frightening: it was the order of things. Faeries should fear him. Death in Faerie—or by order of Faerie—was his function. Ani seemed foolishly nonplussed by this. Once she’d learned that there was no immediate fatal threat, she’d become bold. Is that why Rae wanted me to see Ani? Did she know? It couldn’t be. There was no way for Rae to know that Ani would be unafraid. Still, such fearlessness near him was rare, and he cherished it.

“Hell-o?” She nudged him. “What are you looking at?”

“We need to cross here.” He wasn’t sure how fast she could move, but he’d noticed that mortals were slower. She wasn’t a true mortal, and her sire was one of the fastest sorts of faeries. Thinking of her getting crushed by the metal racing past them was disconcerting.

She matters.

He gripped her arm just above her elbow and started walking, forcing her to scurry to keep pace with his longer stride.

She yanked her arm free. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you cross the street.” He narrowed his eyes at her tone. Boldness was only amusing so long. When it interfered with his objectives, it ceased being entertaining. “The vehicles speed, and you are still somewhat mortal. I’m not sure how fast mortals—”

“I am a Hound.” She raced down the block.

From a distance, he could see her belligerent posture. It was foolhardy, but not unexpected. He should’ve kept a better grip on her.

She’s unrestrained. It’s— He froze. Thoughts, action, everything around him seemed to stop as he watched Bananach come up behind Ani and slide an arm around the Hound’s shoulder.

NO.

Before the objection was a completed thought, Devlin stood in front of them. “Step away, Sister.” “For what coin?” She curled her hand around Ani’s shoulder so that her talon-tipped fingers furrowed skin, not piercing but deep enough that the Hound would bruise.

He had chosen to be ruled by logic, and logic said there was an answer here that would get Ani safely out of War’s reach, but it wasn’t logic that rode in his words. “She’s mine. I have taken her into my keeping.”

“She’s alive.” Bananach rubbed her face against Ani’s hair in a feline gesture that seemed peculiar for the raven- faery. “This is good. I find that I need her not-dead. She has a mission now. Don’t you, puppy?”

Ani caught his gaze. She didn’t look afraid, despite her situation, and Devlin wondered fleetingly if she was impaired. He’d seen that in some of the mortal-faery mixes, a lack of instinctual fear. Has she no sense of self-preservation?

She widened her eyes, as if she was willing thoughts to him.

Devlin stared at her, trying to make sense of whatever she was trying to convey.

She pursed her lips and almost imperceptibly tilted her head. Her gaze shot pointedly to the left.

Sitting on the curb beside him was her steed, looking like a car now. Her intention seemed to be to use the beast as a weapon. The results of such an attack weren’t likely to be severe, but it would upset Bananach—which would lead to her striking Ani.

Which would result in my injuring my sister.

Devlin moved forward, putting himself between the steed and his sister. He didn’t always like his sister- mothers, but he was sworn to keep them safe to the best of his ability.

Even from me.

Moving as close to his sister as he could get, he made himself a barrier to Bananach’s injury.

Ani glared at him.

“You made mistakes. Sisters know.” Bananach craned her neck forward so her cheek rubbed Ani’s face. “I won’t tell our secrets.”

Devlin weighed and measured the words. He couldn’t tell Bananach anything false. I wish Rae was here. Being possessed so as to allow his lips to form a lie would be incalculably useful just then.

“You won’t tell secrets either; will you, little pup?” Bananach spun Ani so they were face-to-face. “You’ll go to your court. He can help. Is that why you came, Brother? To help?”

Bananach looked over Ani’s shoulder at Devlin.

He held her gaze and said, “Yes. I’ve come to help.”

With most faeries, Bananach would press; she would insist on clarity of word—but it was not so with him. She believed him. Bananach kissed Ani’s forehead. “Trust him, little one. He is wise.”

Some part of Devlin’s long-suppressed emotions cringed at those words. For everything she’d done, she was still his creator. Betraying her today—as he’d betrayed Sorcha fourteen years ago—wounded him.

For you, Ani.

The faery in question backed away from Bananach. She shot a glance at Devlin. Then she walked toward her steed. A tremble in her hand as she reached out to the door handle revealed her fear—or perhaps her anger.

Silently, he turned his back on his sister and followed Ani.

He slipped into the passenger seat and barely had the door closed before Ani peeled out. He could see his sister in the rearview mirror: she stood staring after them.

Ani cranked the stereo; angry guitars and shrieking voices came blasting out of the speakers.

He put a hand on hers.

She jerked away.

“Are you helping Bananach?” Ani didn’t take her gaze from the road. She was speeding between cars and occasionally getting close enough that Devlin braced for the sound of scraping metal. “She said—”