8: Shadows LingerKatie had toppled into a well somewhere dark and deep, but rather than nding in chilly water, fmes licked her skin from the inside as she fell and fell without stopping.

  Even Fox, basically carrying her at this point, seemed far away. She wondered where he meant to take her. They wandered through white rooms with empty, lost entertainment facilities inviting them to enjoy. How he got them through it all without being seen, she’d never know. The journey was endless and hot and Katie was sure she’d go ft on her face as soon as Fox let go.

  They passed through a white corridor like the inside of an eggshell, but it stretched longer and longer, confusing her eyes. Fox held her up like it was nothing, but she couldn’t hold herself straight. Her soft white slippers scuffed like a zombie’s would have. Fox’s slippers were the same, but he took tiny, purposeful steps, not going faster than she could, steering her effectively down the corridor.

  “Here we are,” he said, in a busy, offhand tone, and propped her back against the wall next to a door. One support was as good as another. He stooped to whisper in her ear; she had a prickling whiff of expensive cologne, something spicy. “I’m taking you to my room. If they’re willing to do this to you, I don’t want you where they know you ought to be. Do you understand?”

  She nodded. If she could just lie down for a little while, she’d feel better when she woke up.

  “Then come.” The door slid open on another white world. Katie couldn’t decode it. A spaceship made zero sense. This is a bad dream, she thought, and then Fox lifted her against his shoulder. “Forgive my importuning as ever, Katie,” he murmured.

  “It’s okay.” She let her head rest on his chest, above and to the side of his heart. It throbbed away comfortingly beneath her ear. Why was he doing this? The next thing she knew was soft cool pillows, and she almost wept with relief and gratitude. Whatever Fox’s Eagle was like, she thought Fox must love him so well…

  Fox took off his dressing gown and threw it over the clock on the bedside table in a gesture that looked careless. As he paced away, his whipcord form beneath the soft pajamas he must’ve gotten from the sauna reminded her of Brother. She shut her eyes. It would be nice to believe Beri would come as much as he believed Eagle would come.

  Time disappeared. Fox again, sitting next to her on the soft bed. Pain beamed up her arm when he took her hand into his p. She screamed uselessly, twisting.

  “Listen very carefully.” Fox didn’t meet her eyes as he unscrewed the top of a jar. “What I’m about to give you is a highly addictive substance. It will not leave my sight. I didn’t want to expose you, but I will not see you die yet.” He dipped a white cloth in the jar. It came out sodden with slime and covered in green bits like herbs.

  “Do it,” she moaned. Like Vick’s Vapo-Rub but weirder, it prickled in her nose. She said it wide-eyed and all too honest, but Fox gave a knowing nod. He set the little round jar on the table and lifted the iron from suppurating, skinless flesh. Like lightning, he slipped the white linen towel beneath the bracelet all the way around.

  She gasped, but this time with a completely unexpected ecstasy of relief that toppled her senses upside down. The iron burned through the cloth as soon as Fox had put it in, but more dully. She still felt it in her teeth, but her jaw fell open when she looked at him.

  He smiled at her, pushing up the little gold gsses he’d somehow acquired. He was cute as a button with them on his pretty face. “You’re feeling much better, I dare say.”

  Katie looked around in astonishment. His room was just like hers: a single long space with windows in front. The edge of something thickly green ced with blue cracks came suddenly into view, huge in the window and glowing softly against the stars. A pnet—but definitely not Earth. Her fist clenched in the linens.

  “What is that stuff?” she asked when he picked up the jar in his long, spidery fingers and screwed on the lid.

  “Johnston’s All-Heal.” He made a face when he said it. “There’s always a price tag for something like this. It’s plentiful, cheap, and effective. The problem comes when one must use it often, as you would need to if you wanted to feel quite comfortable. With repeated use…” He lifted one palm, then rose, graceful as the gently twirling pnet below, and tucked the small jar into his pocket. “I’d prefer to use it as a temporary solution only. I’m sure you understand.”

  “I think I’d prefer that too.” Katie flexed her hand. The iron still felt bitter at her wrist, only separated by a few yers of cloth. “So, what happens now?”

  Fox shrugged, as gracefully as any motion he’d made, and indicated the bracelet with a sweep. “Whatever else happens, we must have this iron removed or compensated for. Do you agree?”

  She flexed her hand again, staring down at the tooled rose pattern on the iron bracelet. It was a pretty piece of jewelry, except, well—not on Katie. She didn’t see how to get it off before she lost the hand. “Yeah, I agree, but how? It’s not like we have a forge, and I can’t stick my arm in the furnace.” Even though it felt like she did exactly that, even now.

  Breathe through it, she told herself.

  “Eagle may have ideas, but he’s taking his time.” Fox ran hands through his waves, messing them up even more. “I’m going to shower and dress. Rest a moment, darling, if you would.”

  Katie nodded again, still working on breathing through it. She didn’t get very far. Fox went into the bathroom, dropping his shirt and showing off a golden back that narrowed to trim hips.

  It wasn’t until the shower flicked on that she thought to ask him. “Hey, Fox?”

  He bent his head around the doorframe. Smiling, the fucker. It looked ridiculously genuine. “Yes?”

  “What are we dressing for?”

  “You are not dressing for anything.” Fox pointed at the bed behind her. “You are going to lie right there and survive. I believe I saw a remote control device on one of the tables. You might see what it does.” He spun on his heel and left, taking his dick piercings with him.

  If he wasn’t so very gay, she’d be intimidated. Good thing, or I’d be screwed. Literally. And I’d love every second. As it was, she could kick up her heels and make herself comfortable in his bed—and besides, what other choice did she have? He had something that could make her feel better, at least for a little while, even if it wasn’t completely.

  She drifted on the soft pillows, on the soft sound of his voice as he sang in the shower, music she didn’t know from a distant pce she’d probably never see. She couldn’t mistake his voice for Beri’s; it was lighter and sweeter, not operatic, and the song was tender and sad. Her heart lurched at the thought of all his piercings and his posing.

  Time slipped out of mind. She watched flecks of illusory snow flicker on the bright white ceiling, just out of the corner of her eye. When she turned her face to look directly at them, they faded from view.

  Eventually, the shower flicked off again. A blink ter, or a year, Fox came out with a towel around his pretty hips and another rubbing his short hair. He streamed music behind him, fucking Disney Princess that he was, wordlessly singing some soaring, complex melody that twisted and repeated. When he pressed a spot on the wall, it popped out to his other side: a long rack of clothes.

  This was getting out of hand. If she had to hallucinate from the iron bracelet, did it have to be a man like this, in a pce like this, warm and kind in a sea of white? Groaning, she sat up, but Fox stayed where he was, drying his hair and flicking through the rack of clothes, long like in a department store. He still hummed quietly.

  “Fox.” If he talked to her now, would it matter if he was real or a fevered metal dream?

  “Yes, darling?” He didn’t quite turn to her.

  “So, you said I wasn’t going anywhere,” she managed, “and I’m okay with that. But clearly, you are going somewhere, and I’m not sure where you think you’re going alone.”

  Fox crossed back to the bed, his arms den with clothes, and dumped a pile next to Katie. If she had to guess, she’d say he was about 25, just a few sharp pces and folds in his face that might turn starker. He looked older than any Sidhe ever would. “Since I arrived here, I’ve had a bit of time to look around. I imagine you’ve cked it, but you still have an important piece. Tell me how he does it,” he added in a swift undertone, bending over the clothes on the bed.

  “Tell you how who does what?” She frowned as he straightened and held what looked like a spangled hanky against his chest.

  He tossed it aside, then bent again. His voice came out low and controlled as he stooped for another piece of clothing; his face pointed down, hiding his mouth. “How does your boss stop them from coming back?”

  “Oh, uh.” She swallowed so hard it clicked. Remembering. It seemed so long ago, even though it couldn’t have been more than a couple of days. She hoped. How had he known about the Birthright? “Well,” she said, “he just touches—”

  He gestured her closer. “The Eyes will see you. Talk soft, hide your mouth.”

  She nodded and let her hair fall forward so she could murmur about destroying the immortal monsters who looked like ordinary people. “It’s touch magic. Inherited. He blesses weapons, too—but I didn’t get to use my sword.”

  “So, you were attacked with your boss, and he killed some of them.” He said “boss” like he wasn’t buying the designation.

  Fair enough. The word didn’t cover it. She’d been obvious enough. “Yeah. You know, it’s just a little, um, touch of authority. To keep the Sidhe in line.”

  Fox’s perfect dark brows flicked up. “I see.” Thoughts raced over his handsome face. “That’s why they hate you, then.”

  “Yeah.” Katie gazed at the iron bracelet. It wasn’t eating her wrist quite yet, but she was surprised to see that, given how fucking awful it felt. The burn puffed around the cloth Fox had put between bracelet and skin.

  “How many?” he breathed, selecting a pair of hip-hugging white jeans. He straightened, holding them up critically, and then dropped his hands.

  “Two.” She grimaced. “I think. Things are a little hazy.”

  “I love that,” he said, out loud. The little sparkle of pleasure he aimed at her felt like—God, she didn’t know what, but she loved feeling like she’d pleased him. Then he dropped the towel, golden skin, gold piercings winking.

  She averted her eyes out of reflex, but damn. “Let me know when you—you know.”

  “When I’m covered. Of course. I’m sorry, darling, I didn’t think.”

  “No, it’s not that it’s bad,” she said earnestly, trying to meet his eyes, proud of her own success. “Your body—there’s nothing wrong with—it’s just—”

  “It’s not what you’re accustomed to. And you like men,” he added, without a single note of accusation. He buttoned the white jeans, commando. “So do I, darling, but do promise to let me know if you’re interested.”

  “Don’t say that. You could get it.”

  He ughed. “I’m not looking for it. I’m only saying—it’s going to get boring if we’re trapped for long.” Back to the closet. He was shirtless.

  She’d never seen a man change his nipple jewelry before, but he picked out barbells that sparkled on the ends. Her mouth was hanging open.

  He gnced over his shoulder in the middle of unscrewing a piercing. “I see it’s not the same for you.”

  “Ah.” She swallowed. “Not for me. No. I like to… it’s an emotional thing for me,” she decided, resettling her legs.

  “You like it complicated.” Fox grinned again and crossed the narrow room to the vanity table, picking up the spangled hanky on the way.

  She ughed too, now. Even though it hurt, she didn’t regret it. “You could say that.” Beri was ‘complicated’ in a silk-blend suit.

  “I respect that. I know just what you mean.” Somehow the hanky went over his head and formed a shirt, or something like a shirt, anyway. It showed a lot of his back and all of his ft golden stomach. A sparkly piece of jewelry rode in his innie.

  “Where are you going?” she tried again.

  Incredibly, he sat down at the mirror and started to do his face with what he pulled from the drawers. While he shadowed his eyes with gold powder and a deft pinky, he said, “I’m going to get you out of that bracelet, darling. There’s a dreadfully fancy lounge a few decks down—I saw it on the tour. If I hang about there and impress upon them that I’d like to make a compint, I’m sure I can attract the sort of attention we need.”

  Marveling, Katie shook her head. “You’re seriously going to Karen my way out of this.” But sexy Karen, she thought when he brushed just a tiny bit of the gold powder on his plump lower lip. She pulled up her knees and hugged them to her chest with the arm that didn’t hold the bracelet. “Why would you do that for me, dude?”

  He ughed again, bright and sweet, a Disney Princess ugh. “Oh, Katie, anyone else’s problems are much better to think on than my own.”

  “Fair enough.” She was definitely having enough problems for two, and thinking about those wasn’t helping her any. She eyed him over again and thought, Brother, but she wasn’t sure why. Something about his gentleness. What are your problems, then? Let me think about those for a change.

  He wiped his hands and stood, then turned to the mirror, twisting to examine himself from all angles. “It would look better if I still had my long hair, I suppose. Ah, well. Something is missing, and of course I’ll need shoes…”

  “Of course.” Katie had changed her mind. If he was a hallucination, she could get on board.

  Fox’s sparkles stretched and blurred. They draped over his back in golden arcs. He dug in another closet, tossing beautiful white shoes over his shoulder. His back disappeared, then the whole top of him, so he was just a butt, heels and legs.

  She wanted to flop to her left side, but she couldn’t without nding on the pulsing core of pain in her wrist and hand. Instead, she flopped to the right, toppling with her left hand draped loosely off the bed. It burned. Her stomach felt sour.

  Fox let out another ugh, triumphant, and said something muffled deep in the closet.

  She snorted. He never met a closet he wouldn’t come bursting out of. They must think something different about sexuality on his world than they did on Earth, just like in Faerie. Her eyes closed.

  Fox knelt next to the bed, examining her wrist in gentle hands that fired spearing bolts of agony into her. His low lids sparkled faintly with the finest dusty gold. “You’ll need more than I thought to function properly. I need to consult with Eagle, and with you.”

  Her throat felt cracked. She licked her lips with a tongue like a shard of broken pnt pot. “Don’t leave me.”

  He looked up and met her eyes.

  Sweat rolled down her hairline onto the pile of fine fabrics. They all seemed like sandpaper on her hot skin. Tears dampened her hair under her temple. She didn’t want to be crying.

  He folded back onto his heels and let his hands fall loosely in his p. Little gold lights fshed around him. She could swear his eyes glowed—a sheen that made her think of simmering magma. “Something must be done, or you will die. If you think I can sit by and watch, think again.”

  She shuddered, letting her eyes fall shut. I’d say the same thing if it was you. But it wouldn’t come out of her parched mouth. Instead, she nodded once.

  She heard Fox’s feet as if from far away and struggled to get a look after all. His soles fshed red, stiletto heels doing amazing things for his legs—already amazing. There was a subtle trail of that fine gold glitter down his spine.

  He went out or disappeared. Katie didn’t know which. She hoped to hell he wasn’t a hallucination.