Tiago was studying Cameron, his eyes narrowed in thought. He pointed the toe of one shoe at her. “I want to have a word with you.”

“All right,” said Cameron, who hooked her thumbs in the belt loops of her jeans. “What’s up?”

“Have a seat in my office.” He indicated the other armchair, then noticed it was full. “Faerie, do you mind if we shift some of this stuff?”

“No, go right ahead.” Niniane rubbed the back of her neck, looking frustrated. “I still can’t find that ivory inlaid box, and I know I brought it with me. Do you need me for this conversation?”

Tiago smiled at her. “No, I do not. Go find your box.”

He helped Cameron clear off the second armchair as Niniane disappeared into the walk-in closet. Cameron took a seat, and he tapped the shoe against his lips as he regarded the policewoman. “I think I can make a pretty good guess at what you make in a year,” he said. He named a figure. “Is that close?”

Cameron snorted. “Close enough. I’ve got twenty years on the force, but a police detective only makes so much.”

“You may have heard that I am no longer one of Dragos’s sentinels,” Tiago said.

“Word’s gotten around,” said Cameron.

Tiago told her, “I am now Niniane’s chief of security, and I’m starting from scratch. Come work for me for a year, and I’ll triple your salary. If you want to leave at the end of the year, I’ll help you relocate back to Chicago and find a new job.”

Cameron stared. “You’re asking me to come live in Adriyel for a year?”

Tiago shrugged. He switched to telepathy. She likes you, and she’s relaxed in your company. She giggles around you. You get the same pop culture references, and you understand that all this froufrou is important to her. Niniane and I have got to build relationships with Dark Fae, and we will. But right now, you’re a trained detective, you’re kind to her, and I think you like her too. And I trust you. As I look at you, it occurs to me everything you embody is a rather rare commodity.

I do like her, Cameron replied. The human was frowning, not in negation, but in thought. I like her a lot.

Tiago paused. Police work and bodyguard work are two different things, of course, he said. You would have a lot to learn, and you would have to learn it fast. I remember your employee profile said you have taken some martial arts training, but I doubt you’ve picked up a sword.

Actually, I have done a bit of sword work, along with knife and crossbow work, said Cameron. There’s a course through the department for detectives like me who have a spark of Power and who might find themselves needing to cross over to an Other land in pursuit of a fugitive. It was just an introductory survey course. It wouldn’t be enough, but it’s a start. My God, I’m really thinking about doing this. Don’t you have enough bodyguards already? Powerful ones? Rune and Aryal, and assorted Vampyres?

Yes, but they all leave after Niniane’s coronation in a week or so, Tiago said. And I can’t stay with her twenty-four/seven. I’ll need to set up my own office when we get to Adriyel and lay the groundwork for developing my own intelligence network. And we have a killer in our group, someone who wants Niniane dead.

Something fell in the closet, and Niniane swore. Tiago raised his voice. “You okay in there, faerie?”

“Yeeeeessss,” Niniane said. She sounded aggravated. “The stupid box just found the top of my head.”

He smiled a little. He said to Cameron, “Don’t take your time. If you don’t do this, I need to find someone who will.”

“I’ll do it,” said Cameron.

SIXTEEN

Niniane was pleased to see Cameron, but she was all too aware that the other woman’s arrival heralded change that she could no longer avoid. The sunlit intimacy she had shared with Tiago evaporated. She was glad they had managed to prolong their oasis for so much of the day but she still mourned its passing.

After he finished his talk with Cameron, Tiago stuck his head in the closet. “Faerie.”

She sat cross-legged on the floor with the ivory inlaid box on her lap. She fingered the carved wood top. “Yes?”

“Are you all right if Cameron stays with you?” he asked. “I have things I should do. I want to check in with Rune and Aryal.”

She nodded without looking up. “Of course.”

He was silent. Then his boots came into her line of sight. He kneeled and slipped one hand under her chin to coax her face up for his inspection. He gave her a swift hard kiss. “Your endorsement of this idea is less than rousing,” he said. His thumb stroked her bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

She cleared her throat. She told him in a stronger voice, “Yes, I’m sure.” She met his dark searching gaze and gave him a small smile. “I just don’t want our day together to end, but it’s starting to happen in my head anyway. We both have a lot to do before tomorrow’s crossover.”

His expression was determined. “We will make time for ourselves. I’ll not stand for anything else. I am a selfish man and do not intend to go deprived.”

Her smile deepened, became more real. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He tilted his head and nodded to what she held in her lap. “What’s in the box?”

She spread her hands over the top of the box. “Just some memories. I can tell you another time.”

“All right.” He braced his hands on his thighs and leaned forward. “One more for the road.”

She put a hand to his cheek as she kissed him, savoring his clean masculine scent and the sensation of his warm, firm lips moving on hers. Then he stood and strode out. He took much of the day’s light and warmth with him.

After a few minutes she stood, her arms wrapped around the box, and she walked back into the bedroom. Cameron was sorting through the pile of clothes on the bed, folding things into neat stacks. She had already sorted the lingerie. It sat on the end of the bed with the saucy marabou-trimmed shoes perched on top of the pile.

“You don’t have to do that,” Niniane said.

Cameron grinned. “Are you kidding? This is a blast. Your wardrobe is like going on a whirlwind shopping spree of the major couture houses.”

“I know, I indulge too much.” Niniane bit her lip. “Shopping is a stress response for me.”

Cameron shrugged. “If you have the kind of budget that can support your habit, who cares?”

“I was listening to your conversation with Tiago,” said Niniane. “I’m thrilled you’re taking the job.”

“Great,” said Cameron. “I was just wondering if I should have run it by you before accepting. I’ll need to email my notice to my supervisor and arrange with my brother to put my things in storage. But I can go out later to do that. Right now, what do you need?”

“You’re already doing it.”

Working together, they had most of the things sorted and put away in a short amount of time. Niniane kept what she was taking with her on the bed. She chose outfits suitable to wear when horseback riding and camping, jeans, T-shirts, sweaters, sneakers and boots. Toiletries were kept to what was strictly functional along with a few basic items of makeup. A rainresistant jacket, scarf, all of the lingerie Tiago liked, the bundle that contained her knives, their various sheaths and the small vial of poison she used to coat the tips. Some jewelry, a few small mementos from her life in New York, a couple of paperbacks and the inlaid box. She would have more of her things shipped later and would expand her wardrobe in Adriyel with Dark Fae clothing, so she could afford to travel somewhat light on this trip.

Then she sat on the edge of the bed and opened the box. It contained a pair of 2-barrel .41 rimfire caliber Remington Double Derringer pistols with engraved silver handles, along with a couple of felt ammunition bags and cleaning materials.

“Holy crap, those are gorgeous,” Cameron breathed, sitting beside her. “Are those 1866 Derringers?”

“Yep,” said Niniane. She picked up one, checked to make sure it was unloaded then handed it to Cameron. “I bought them as soon as they came out. Derringers were so much easier for me to handle than the earlier bigger guns, and of course you can carry one in your dress or coat pocket or slip one in your boot.”

Cameron inspected the small pistol with reverence. “You bought this when it was new. My God.” She sighted down the short barrel. “Where are you going to store these when we cross over?”

“I’m not going to store them,” Niniane said. “We’re going to clean and load them, and I’m going to take them with us.”

Cameron’s sleek sandy eyebrows rose. “I don’t understand. Technology doesn’t work in Other lands.”

“That’s not quite true,” Niniane said. She held her hand out for the pistol, and Cameron handed it to her. She showed the other woman how to clean and load it. “Dragos has done a lot of experimenting. Passive technologies like composting toilets or designs that utilize solar heat work just fine. In fact, we’re taking a Melitta coffee filter with us. Modern crossbow and compound bow designs work well too.”

“Interesting.” Cameron worked on cleaning the pistol she had been given. Her strong, long-fingered hands were confident, capable.

“Magic is so strong in Other lands, Dragos thinks it acts as a sort of natural defense mechanism. He says it works like a body’s immune system,” Niniane said. “Once it recognizes something that acts on some sort of principle of combustion, the magic moves to block it. That’s why guns misfire.” Niniane loaded hers and handed a couple of bullets to Cameron, who took them with her eyebrows still raised.

“You’re not inspiring my confidence with this little chat,” Cameron said.

“Here’s the thing,” Niniane said. “Automatic weapons always seize or misfire as soon as they’re taken over and used, but it can take the magic a little longer to recognize one of the primitive guns. You never know when they might explode, or misfire, so they’re dangerous and nobody uses them, but they always fire at least once.”

Cameron’s face was hard, her hazel eyes clear and direct. “The gun might fire, but it might also kill you at the same time.”

“Tiago and I were talking last night about a risk/benefit analysis.” She sat with her loaded derringer in her lap. She met the other woman’s troubled gaze. “The potential benefit might outweigh the risk.”

“The situation would have to be extreme,” Cameron said. “Someone would have to consider this a weapon of last resort.”

Niniane nodded. She thought of slipping in her brother’s blood. Then she imagined slipping in Tiago’s blood.

She said, “And then nobody would see it coming.”

She managed to persuade Cameron to keep the contents of the box to herself. As she told Cameron, if Tiago found out, he would go on a rampage and take them away from her. In all likelihood the guns would never be fired, and having them with her would give her a severe kind of comfort. Still the other woman remained resistant until Niniane finally snapped, “It’s none of his business, Cameron! If I ever feel the need to fire one of these, Tiago won’t be around to help me.”

Cameron looked grim but at last fell silent.

Niniane had saddlebags and trunks brought up. She and Cameron packed the inlaid box, along with the rest of the things.

Soon after dawn the next day, the party that was crossing over to Adriyel gathered outside the stables. Dew still sprinkled the lawn, but the early morning air was fast losing its crisp coolness. The weather forecast stated Chicago was going to see a summer scorcher that day, with temperatures climbing into the mid-nineties.

Niniane watched the travel party from her upstairs window. It was a large, complex gathering.

The Nightkind had provided their own mounts, pack animals and supplies. Their eight humans were dressed in functional clothing much like what Niniane wore, jeans, boots, T-shirts and jackets. Three figures wore long-sleeved turtlenecks and gloves under robes and ground-length cloaks. They wore sunglasses and ski masks, with the hoods from their cloaks pulled over their heads. They wouldn’t take chances with something as deadly as sunlight. Probably under all that protective clothing they wore 100+ full spectrum SPF sunscreen as well. Those three would be Rhoswen, Duncan and the third Vampyre whom Niniane had not yet met. One of them—guessing by the Vampyre’s height and build, Niniane thought it was probably Rhoswen—held the halter of a black Arabian stallion. The stallion had a blanket on its back but no saddle. He snorted and tried to rear, but the slim robed figure held him firmly to the ground.

Each of the Dark Fae had their own group. They all wore some variety of Dark Fae travel dress, consisting of tunics, leggings, knee-high boots, and either thigh-length riding coats cut with a split to the small of the back or cloaks.

Arethusa waited with ten troops. She was dressed for travel as her troops were, in a plain brown battledress uniform consisting of a leather half-armor jacket, trousers and boots. The Commander was busy inspecting their mounts and the wagon train of supplies that the troops would be responsible for safeguarding.

Justice Kellen was striking, as he was the only white-haired figure of the party. He moved his tall, lean body with an energy and vigor that belied his white hair. It would be a fatal mistake to believe his age implied infirmity. He stood with his personal entourage of four attendants, his back turned toward the others as he appeared to converse with one of his men in a low voice.

Aubrey and Naida’s group was not quite the smallest, but they shared just four attendants between the two of them. Naida wore a dark green embroidered riding outfit, her black hair pulled back from her beautiful face. Aubrey’s tan and brown riding outfit complemented his wife’s. He checked the stirrups and cinch straps on their horses. His long hair was tied back with a simple strip of leather.