He’d known it would take effort. He had lost Olivia before, so he knew how to proceed, with care and caution. Yet this time, none of that was working.

He brought her mochas, made exactly the way she liked them, and they’d sit barely touched on her desk. He’d offered to take her to the lessons required for her concealed carry permit, but she’d gone with Ricky instead. He’d convinced her to start driving her father’s Maserati and then hinted at taking rides along the coast, teased that he could get her out of speeding tickets, but she’d only laughed. He would take her to lunch at her favorite restaurants and they’d talk nothing but business. He’d make dinner reservations at “their” steakhouse, but she was always too busy, seemed annoyed by his presumption.

Olivia didn’t appear to be actively blocking him. Simply oblivious.

No, simply uninterested.

He’d been about to make his most desperate play: suggest they visit the Carew house. It was her great-great-grandmother’s home, and the site of most of Olivia’s visions, and while that made him nervous, the house fascinated her as few things did. He would find some excuse and they’d go back and maybe there they’d recapture something they’d lost.

Then came the call tonight, and with it he’d seen another way. A mystery to be solved, Ricky was in danger, Olivia would rely on Gabriel to help her save him. They’d spend the night investigating this threat and, for the first time in months, they’d work together as partners. Instead, she’d stayed in Ricky’s apartment and sent Gabriel a text saying they could talk tomorrow. He read that text and he knew what it really said. That this break could not be repaired. He’d lost her trust, and he would not get it back this time.

He swirled the Scotch again. Gabriel did not drink. A conscious decision, made with full forethought and understanding. The understanding being that he came from a family prone to addiction, apparently a by-product of human blood mingled with fae. He’d grown up with a mother who’d lost herself to those demons.

No, lost implied there’d been a fight. He’d seen a woman who gave herself over with glee to the bottle and the needle, her young son a distraction to be suffered as little as possible.

So he did not drink. Never recalled even feeling the urge until the night after Olivia left, and he’d realized it wasn’t strength that kept him from imbibing: it was the simple fact he’d never felt any need to. He hadn’t had pain to dull.

He went to bed shortly after that. Or, that is, he went to the couch, setting aside the untouched drink and stretching out to rest before he got to work, certain there would be no sleep that night. The next thing he knew, he was waking to his phone, and the moment he heard Liv’s jaunty little ring tone, his heart rammed into his throat as he thought, I’ve done it again. She called, and I didn’t answer—

The phone stopped. He looked down and realized it hadn’t been ringing at all. It was just a text message.

Call me.

She’d changed her mind. She hadn’t been able to sleep and—His fingers paused on the keys as he looked to see dawn seeping through the darkness. Not night, then. But it was early. Very early.

He hit her number. She answered on the second ring.

“That was fast,” she said. “Did you even go to bed?”

“I heard the text.”

“Ah, sorry. I was trying not to disturb you. I … uh, I’ve been doing some research. Not really turning up anything, but I thought … maybe we could talk? We didn’t get a chance last night and—”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. I know it’s Saturday. Do you plan to go by the office? It’s not urgent, so I’m not rushing you.”

“Come to the apartment. I’ll make breakfast.”

When she hesitated, he pushed on. “You’re going to want to speak to Rose about the fae in your vision, particularly with the connection to Ricky’s situation. There’s no sense going to the office only to leave again. We can talk here and then drive to Cainsville.”

Still she didn’t answer, and as the seconds ticked past, he waited for her to come up with an excuse.

“That makes sense,” she said finally. “Ricky can drive me over. What time?”

“As soon as you can get here.” He felt the compulsion to make an excuse for that, to say that he had a busy day and therefore had to get this interruption over with. A few months ago, that’s exactly what he would have done so she didn’t think he was eager to see her. Now he held his tongue and let the words hang there.

“Give me thirty,” she said, and signed off.

There. Thirty minutes. He only had to wait thirty more minutes.

CHAPTER FOUR

By nine, Gabriel and I were pulling into town. My town. Cainsville. Founded by Tylwyth Teg, Welsh fae.

There are no tiny winged creatures flitting about Cainsville. The fae look human, and while that’s a glamour, I’ve seen some of their true forms. Most look like the supermodel version of humans—taller, thinner, with flawless symmetry of feature and form. There’s also a glow, like a backlight, and I can be a smart-ass and call it pixie dust, but otherwise there’s no resemblance to Tinker Bell.

The Tylwyth Teg founded Cainsville centuries ago, as they escaped persecution and the dwindling wilderness in the old country. Here they built a town, surrounded by that wilderness, where they could coexist with humans. Part of coexisting means spreading their DNA through the local human population, allowing them the extra control of fae compulsion.