The sluagh is coming. The unforgiven is coming. The darkness is coming.
"Gabriel?" Patrick prompted.
"Whatever it was, I don't hear it now," Gabriel said quickly. "I do hear the dryads, though. Coming this way."
Which was true. Their light footsteps pitter-pattered over the boards, like scampering woodland creatures. Gabriel stood his ground, and the dryads veered around the doorway and stopped short.
"You didn't wait," Helia said.
"You were supposed to wait," Alexios said.
"Yes," Gabriel said.
Alexios nudged Helia. "See? I told you he wouldn't. Gwynn does not follow the orders of mere semi-immortals." He looked at Gabriel. "I know you don't like that name. I just meant--"
"I understand what you meant. And no, if I do not wish to wait, I don't."
Alexios smiled. "Good. You shouldn't. You're king of the Fae. And if they"--he nodded to Patrick--"try to say otherwise, tell them where to shove it. You have the power to do that. Don't ever forget it."
Patrick's brows lifted.
"We were coming to get you," Helia said. "We just wanted to make sure Seanna's still here."
"It would be very embarrassing if she wasn't," Alexios said. "We also needed to make sure no one else had found her in the meantime. The mother of Gwynn is valuable. Others are looking. We've heard there is a reward for her capture."
"That would be mine," Patrick said.
"You only offered money," Helia said. "Others offer more."
"What others?"
"Those hunting wouldn't tell us. We tried insisting. We even threatened. But no one ever takes us seriously when we threaten."
"Not even when we scowl." Alexios looked at Gabriel. "You could make them talk. You have a good scowl."
"Where is Seanna?" Patrick said. "Every second you delay, my reward drops."
Alexios wrinkled his nose. "We don't want your money."
"Wouldn't take it," Helia said. "Money only causes trouble. We hope to win the goodwill of Olivia and Gabriel, but that is a hope, not a price for our help."
"Where is--?" Patrick began.
They turned and zoomed off.
Gabriel and Patrick followed. It was the only way to see what scheme the dryads were hatching.
As they walked, Gabriel's phone buzzed with an incoming text from Olivia.
All done. Meet up?
He sent back, I'm in the middle of something. I'll call you within the hour.
He hit three wrong keys typing that--his fingers were just too big for a phone keypad. Olivia would say that was a sign he should learn text-speak. Or at least allow himself to write sentence fragments. He would rather correct the mistakes.
He sent the message and then hesitated, his fingers still over the keys. Should he add more, now that their relationship had changed?
Miss you? It'd been two hours, and he did miss her, but it might make him seem needy.