"I know." His lips twitched. "It is kinda funny, though, watching you guys scramble with excuses. Gabriel told me you weren't answering my calls because you forgot your phone in the car. Which is about as likely as you leaving your arm behind. He dried his hair so fast the back was sticking up. And then he scarfed down half the food I brought for lunch. I've never seen him eat like that." He smiled. "But I do appreciate he's being circumspect."
"He's not going to wave it in your face."
"No, but we are talking about Gabriel, who never goes out of his way to cushion anyone's feelings but yours. He's being very thoughtful. It's sweet. Just don't tell him I said that."
"I won't." I finished applying the concealer. "Better?"
"Yep." He leaned over for a better look and then stopped. "Is that a bite on your collarbone?"
"Shit! No. Damn it."
Ricky laughed as I frantically applied more makeup.
"I'm sorry. I'm really--"
"Stop. If it's not obvious, teasing you is my way of dealing with it. Honestly? I was afraid that part might be a disappointment for you. Because, well, it's Gabriel. In the four years he's been the Saints' lawyer, I've never known him to as much as date. But bad sex isn't going to make you come running back to me. It'd just make you less than totally happy with him. Happy is good. Hickeys are good. Even bite marks..." He shook his head. "Nope, not commenting on the bite mark. But at least now I know where that cut on his lip came from." He exhaled. "Can we change the conversation now?"
"Pretty sure I didn't start it. Or prolong it."
"Yeah, like I said, I'm trying to deal. But that's enough. Now, before we go in, let's take a minute, so you can tell me how you really feel about what your dad said."
--
Apparently, my makeup fix didn't hide the bruise enough to escape fae detection. Ioan's gaze went to it almost the second we were seated. He smiled. I was in his living room with Ricky, who'd been home from Miami less than twenty-four hours, and I show up bearing a sign that sex had been had. Obviously, we'd come to our senses and reconciled.
Fortunately, Ricky didn't notice. He was too busy giving Ioan shit for not telling me Todd had been the one to summon them. As my Cwn Annwn parent, though, Todd was their secondary champion, and Ioan had wanted to do nothing that might strain our relationship. I understood that.
Ricky told Ioan that if he wanted to win my favor, he should be a little more concerned with positioning himself as the side I could trust. And Ioan said nothing. Because Ricky was right. Even Brenin came in to watch, the alpha hound's gaze swiveling between Ioan and Ricky, watching and assessing.
Lloergan lay at Ricky's feet, giving Brenin a look that warned Ricky was hers. I smiled at that. There was no chance Brenin was considering a change of allegiance. He was just processing the fact that "his" alpha was listening to Ricky, which boosted the newcomer higher in the pack hierarchy.
After Ricky finished, I said to Ioan, "So who'd you make the deal with?" When Ioan didn't answer, I said, "The deal to cure me. You made it with the sluagh, didn't you?"
More silence.
Ricky looked at Ioan. "Did I just waste my breath? 'Cause I really feel like--"
"No, you didn't," Ioan said. "I'm framing my response in a way that explains, without seeming as if I'm attempting to dodge responsibility. Also, preferably, in a way that doesn't make me look like a complete idiot."
"You didn't know it was the sluagh," I said.
"In modern times, such deals are almost unheard-of. I had only been asked once before Todd, and in a situation I rejected without further investigation. Todd was different."
"When you heard I had spina bifida, you knew it was one of the possible side effects of fae blood. That's why you asked about my mother. You realized she was from a fae family in Cainsville. Add that to Todd's Cwn Annwn blood and I fit the criteria for Matilda."
"I'd heard rumors that a Matilda had been born, disabled. Which meant if I could help, I would. While a physical disability would not prevent you from playing your role, it would be easier if you weren't dealing with that challenge on top of the others. You would be safer having the full use of your legs."
"So, to make the deal, you contacted...?"
"That was the problem. Having never seriously considered such a deal, for me it was theoretical. Like a story passed down through generations. In that, I fear, I was litt
le different from your father, who only knew he had our blood through family legend. These deals are typically made with what human folklore calls Celtic deities and the Christian invaders labeled demons. They're more aptly called forces of nature. The Cwn Annwn work in their service--yet, like humans and their gods, it's a distant relationship of faith and service rather than a personal relationship."
"You can't just summon them for a chat."
"Exactly. If we wish to make contact, we must do so through a messenger. An ancient fae with a deep connection to the natural world--one so close to the end of life that he or she is already merging with nature and attuned to the will of those forces. I performed the ritual of contact. The next day, a fae answered my summons. I explained what I needed. She told me four sacrifices were required. She gave me their names, and when we visited them, we knew they would be righteous deaths."
"That's how you do it, then? How you determine guilt? It's a sense?"