She had changed out of her dark-blue formal dress – the one she’d worn when he’d held her in his arms over a year ago at the Samhain festival, when he’d kissed her so passionately. It seemed far away.

Laurel wasn’t looking at him now; she only had eyes for Yuki.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Tamani whispered.

Laurel arched one eyebrow in response. “I wanted to see for myself.”

Tamani clenched his teeth. In truth, he did want her there, but his own selfish desires were at odds with his concern for her safety. Would he ever be able to satisfy both?

“I thought you were going after David,” Tamani said to Chelsea, who was still in her deep-red dress. She’d ditched her heels somewhere, so the bottom of the dress pooled at her feet like blood.

“I couldn’t find him,” Chelsea said, her lip quivering almost imperceptibly. She looked at Laurel, who was still studying their silent prisoner.

“Yuki?” Laurel said tentatively. “Are you OK?”

Yuki looked up, glaring at Laurel with steel and fury. “Do I look OK to you? I’ve been abducted! I’m handcuffed to a metal chair! How would you be?”

The Winter faerie’s venomous tone seemed to hit Laurel like a breaking wave and she took a step backwards. “I came to check on you.” Laurel glanced at Tamani, but Tamani wasn’t sure what she wanted. Encouragement? Permission? He offered her a pained grimace and a tiny, helpless shrug.

Laurel turned back to Yuki, the Winter faerie’s expression unreadable, her chin held high. “What does Klea want from me?” Laurel asked.

Tamani didn’t expect her to answer, but Yuki met Laurel’s gaze and simply said, “Nothing.”

“Then why did you come?”

Yuki smiled now, a crooked, mischievous smile. “I didn’t say she never wanted anything. But she doesn’t need you anymore.”

Laurel’s eyes darted to Tamani, then to Shar, before returning to Yuki.

“Laurel, listen,” Yuki said, her voice quiet, comforting. “This whole charade is completely unnecessary. I’ll talk to you if you just get me out of here.”

“That’s enough,” Tamani said.

“Step in here and shut me up,” Yuki said, glaring at Tamani before turning back to Laurel. “I’ve never done anything to hurt you and you know I could have. I could have killed you a million times, but I didn’t. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

Tamani opened his mouth, but Laurel laid a hand on his chest, silencing him. “You’re right. But you’re a Winter faerie. You hid that, even though you had to know about us. Why?”

“Why do you think? The moment your soldier friends found out what I was, they cut off my power and chained me to a chair!”

Tamani hated that she was right.

“OK, well, maybe we just need to start over,” Laurel said. “If we can figure this out before Klea shows up, even better. If you could just tell us—”

“Tamani has the keys,” Yuki said, looking over at him, malice gleaming in her eyes. “Let me out of here, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“No deal,” Tamani said, doing his best to sound bored.

Laurel spoke to Yuki again, cutting them off. “It’s probably safest for everyone if—”

“No!” Yuki shouted. “I can’t believe you’re even a part of this! After what they did to you? To your parents?”

Tamani frowned; what did Laurel’s parents have to do with anything?

But Laurel was already shaking her head. “Yuki, I don’t like that they made me forget. But I can’t change the past—”

“Forget? I’m not talking about memory elixirs. What about the poison?”

“Oh, come on—” Tamani blurted.

Laurel shushed him. “Yuki, do you know who poisoned my father?”

Tamani was pretty certain of the answer, and he knew Laurel was too – it had to have been Klea. But if Laurel could convince Yuki to confirm their suspicions . . .

“Your father?” Yuki looked confused. “Why would they poison your father? I’m talking about your mother.”

Again Laurel looked at Tamani, and he shook his head with a tiny shrug. What was Yuki playing at?

“You don’t even know, do you? Big coincidence that the couple who happened to own the land around the gate just happened to be childless – waiting for a little blonde baby to pop into their lives. How . . . convenient. Wouldn’t you say?”

“That’s enough,” Tamani said sharply. He should have guessed – more games. Yuki was just looking for ways to get them doubting themselves – and each other.

“They did that,” Yuki said. “Fifteen years before you even showed up on their doorstep, the faeries made sure your mother was baby-hungry enough to take you without question. They damaged her, Laurel. Made sure she could never have her own children. They ruined her life and you’re siding with them.”

“Don’t listen to her, Laurel. It’s not true,” Tamani said. “She’s just trying to get into your head.”

“Am I? Why don’t we ask him?”

Laurel followed Yuki’s eyes to Shar, who stood as still as a statue, his face betraying nothing.

It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. Not Shar, who had been her unseen guardian since she first left Avalon.

So why isn’t he denying it?